Friday was one of those days where I just couldn't settle down at my desk, couldn't focus my mind, jittery and distracted. Of course I found other things to do instead, I went out to get the new slippers G said he wanted then went to Hobby Lobby and bought a plate stand. Later, when G was out for a walk, climbed up on the step ladder and put a large plate that will not fit in any of my cabinets up top. Storage as display.
Some days are just like that. Some weeks even, and you learn to cope. Little things help. I made myself a mocha to start the day rather than my usual plain unsweetened black coffee. By breakfast I was already tired, already frazzled. G and I had been up since 5 and he was mad at me, mad at his aide when she came in, probably most of all frustrated and angry with himself since his mind and body weren't doing what he wanted them to do and he wasn't able to express himself in a way we understood. The hostility, the anger, this is all just part of the disease. One might think "this is not my husband" and in many ways it is not, it is a symptom of neurological paths gone horribly awry, and yet one must live through it and try not to take it personally. That part is sometimes hard. What the brain knows can still cause the heart distress, even when the heart knows better. Besides how do you explain to a man who is sitting on the bed screaming that his feet can't touch the floor and that he can't put his slippers on , that his feet are on the floor quite firmly and that he is, in fact already wearing his slippers, and that he put them on himself. How to explain that he may in fact be standing up while he is screaming that he can't get out of bed.
By breakfast he wasn't speaking to me or to his aide, just muttering a steady stream of swear words and glaring at us. The mocha was good. So was hiding. Sometimes absence is the best solution. Or joking. We joked that we should start a collection for the aides. Everytime G used a swear word he would have to put in a quarter. I would have to buy rolls of quarters by the gross. Later, when G saw the new slippers he threw them across the room, once again swearing, "I don't want anything that woman gets for me". This is why I waited until he was out to put things away.
By the time all the early morning drama was coming to a close and we were entering the wall-of-hostility phase, my hair was frizzy and I considered just opting for a tee and yoga pants and admitting defeat. But I wanted comfort and color so I grabbed the first bright things that caught my eye in my closet and ended up discovering another favorite outfit. There is nothing quite like dressing up when the road is hard, or dressing to satisfy your inner three-year old.
This is the same purple silk Ralph Lauren blouse I posted before, worn with J Crew Cafe Capris from last fall and purple Moschino ballet flats that are several years old. In the fall I wore these pants with boots and a sweater, but I hadn't worn them since moving to Knoxville, I think they are perfect with the long blouse and the delicate flats. It is true, that the long straight top with the cropped pants accents the fact that I am long of torso and short of leg, but so what. I am long of torso and short of leg. And yet this is everything I love: narrow pants hovering around the ankle (yes these are a little shorter than that), long tunic top, simple flat shoes, color. I assume you are picking up on a trend here. I certainly am.
In fact this outfit reminds me of my favorite gardening outfit, something I wore for years back when I spent a lot of my time out working in the garden. In those days I wore something called Japanese gardening pants, which I initially purchased and later copied. They were full and straight and loose and gathered at the bottom, just at the top of my ankle. Sometimes I wore loose straight leg jeans or painter's pants, rolled up or chopped off, again to the top of the ankle. I had some cute little canvas flats shaped like a ballet flat with rubber bottoms and toes, and I always wore G's old scrub shirts. I could spend the day in that outfit, day in and day out, only changing if i had to leave the house. This is just an updated version of the same thing and obviously an essential part of my own style.
As for the hair, it had settled down quite a bit by the time I got around to taking the pictures in the late afternoon. Starting out you can imagine Sonia Rykiel with shorter hair and you would get the basic look. At first I wasn't happy but then I decided I had to own my hair. I opted for a much brighter pink lipstick than I usually wear. I rather liked the effect. It made me feel intentional, as if I had planned to frizz my hair out to the skies. I suppose even bright pink is still just pink; its impact is still somewhat subtle. But it made an incredible difference in my attitude. Bright. Pink. Must. Remember.
Oh, and things did get better. Saturday morning the aide was in tears, but G and I had a good time Saturday afternoon. I took him out for lunch and shopping, exploring some of Knoxville's finer men's establishments. He found something he wanted, although we had to order the right size, and equilibrium was restored.
Have a great Monday. If you have a chance pop over to Patti's blog and check out what is going on at Visible Monday.
photo of japanese gardening pants from here.
