SAMUEL PEPYS AND ME

I was likened to Samuel Pepys this week, by my husband, who asked, 'So what was your blog about last week'.  When I replied that it was just 'another day in the life of...', he said, 'Oh, so you are really just writing a diary?', and compared me to the political author. This comment allowed me to cross off another one of my 'Who reads from the USA' list.  It would probably be a duplication of effort for him to actually read my posts, as I usually tell him of anything I experience, outside the office, on our trip home.  Apart from the lack of plague, fire, kidney stones, general inconveniences of the 17th century, and the 'naughties' that Mr P. was known to have committed, whilst Mrs Pepys looked on, and of course being a woman, there can perhaps be seen a vague likeness between us. 

Mr Pepys was also not familiar with (as far as I know) Texas, although (says the rummaging historian in me) he did apparently have an island named after him, somewhere in South Georgia.  I can be certain, however, that he was never familiar with the shoe brand, Sketchers.  Much as I am not one to advertise, and am really quite opposed to wearing brand names, for the sake of wearing brand names, I had never found a pair of flip flops that have ever been comfortable, until my trip to Vegas, (about which I wrote in detail....Happy birthday for next next week to my besties, Lynda and Lesley) and the expiration of my beloved sandals.  I have regretted not buying two pairs, as I am now concerned about what to wear, should they go the way of my original shoe wear, to wit, become defunct!  As much as I try to be an optimist, my glass does appear, sometimes, to be half empty.  I wouldn't mind if it was filled with some noxious vegetable concoction which was not delicious, but normally it contains a scrumptious potion.  I suppose that is why everyone is so sad when they consider their glass to be half empty!  So, now that I have digressed beyond my usual measure of rambling, (I believe Mr P's deviations were of a more saucy content, and I do not mean the 'Heinz' sort!) I shall endeavour to stay on track!  I needed to find a possible replacement for my weekend footwear! 

My week had started rather less fraught than expected.  Samantha and Kelly are the 'out of town' operatives, and they deal with the administration of papers that we have to send to other servers around the state, and country.  Fortunately, the bulk of our work over the last few weeks, has been local, and that means much less mail for the girls to deal with, and much less mail for me to deal with when Samantha is not working!  Although we still had to go to the courthouse, and pick up from clients who prefer us to deal with 'originals' rather than emailed or faxed copies of documents, the office work was not as gruesome as it could have been.  The postman was delivering to business locations at a reasonable hour mid-morning, and he was making his daily drop off to the condominiums opposite our office, around 5pm, which allowed me to walk the extra items we had, across the road, for him to return to the post office, at his 'quitting time'.  It is a wonderful, and very efficient, arrangement. When I first came to live in the USA, I was rather amazed at how the postman not only delivered the mail to your home, or office, but also collected any 'outgoing'.  Bill, our regular mailman, is definitely 'old school', and lets me know when he will be making his late afternoon rounds, saving me a trip to the post office (although, as mentioned, it is always a blast making a trip to the post office, just not necessarily convenient).  I had rather a lot of mail on Tuesday, and was watching for Bill's van to pull up in the opposite street.  When I saw that he had arrived, I scooped up my letters, and like the proverbial chicken, strutted across the road.  As I walked along the path, I spotted Derby, the (not so) little dachshund, with his owner, whose name I do not know.  We exchanged pleasantries, and I commented on how well Derby looked, and how we had not seen him in a while.  It appeared that the poor little wiener dog had undergone back surgery, and in an attempt to make him feel better, his owner had somewhat overdone the 'doggie treats' and Derby was now having to go on a diet.  Derby's dad was trying to work from home, but the dog was apparently quite insistent on using the bathroom, but was now wandering around getting as much attention from passers by as he could.  As our conversation fell into the 'what else is there to talk about' category, Mr Derby announced, 'Are you going to stay here and visit all day, or are you going to poop?'  I replied, 'Oh no, I have to get on, I have to give the mail to Bill!'  I skipped off up the slope to the entrance of the condominiums, leaving the poor canine owner looking incredibly embarrassed.  Bill found my repartee very amusing when I imparted the details, and fortunately Mr. D realised that the English woman was indeed making a joke, and as I passed him on my return journey, he looked at me, pointed a finger to his head, and laughed, probably a little too heartily, just to make sure I knew that he knew I was joking.  I shall have to either work on suppressing my humourous remarks, or on my audience!

Samantha returned to work on Wednesday, and the 'forwarding' projects started to mount to keep her busy.  By Friday afternoon, I was ready to hunt down every telephone solicitation caller and end (not only) their career!  It was definitely a week for unscrupulous advertising!  I shall perhaps expand on that topic in the future.  Mr Pepys' writings were too soon to be interrupted by Mr. Bell's invention! 

Saturday's trip to the outlet mall was not originally to find another pair of flip flops, but to purchase a pair of three quarter length trousers.  I have found that the casualness of Texas has finally been thrust upon me, and the lightweight shorter trousers are perfect for the hot weekend's shopping expeditions.  As I cannot find my preferred style of summer dress, and my daughter is in the early stages of becoming my dressmaker, my weekend wear has become a little sparse.  I have never felt comfortable wearing shorts, and am far more conscious of my knees than ever I was!  The hunt for the sandals was an added bonus!  Sketchers, fortunately, has a store in the outlet mall, and we spent a little longer than anticipated checking out the styles.  The exact duplicate of the pair that I am wearing into the ground are no longer on the shelves, but there was a similar pair, with a slightly different pattern.  Of course, (glass half empty) my size was not available.  There was a pair which were made of memory foam (glass half full....) but did not have the same support across the top of the foot at the ankle joint (.....of not so delicious veggie concoction).  Having to make sure each foot fitted comfortably, I walked up and down the store.  The small piece of elastic that holds the shoes together before puchase, presumably to stop a quick getaway was firmly fastened, and my marching was more of a pidgeon step shuffle.  Up and down the short aisle I went, in my newly created version of the 'one legged race', receiving stares from a toddler who found this to be more scarey than amusing.  They appeared to be quite comfortable, even with the disadvatage of not being able to take decent strides, and so I decided to take a chance, and bought them.  Upon arriving home, however, Samantha thought it would be amusing to wear them for a few minutes, thus creating an imprint for her feet in the shoes' recall. 

The three quarter length trousers were another acquisition, even though the colour was not quite conducive with the accompanying apparel in my wardrobe, but I am sure that I can compromise! 

Today, Sunday, started off rather overcast, and we decided on breakfast at the 'Original Pancake House'.  It was well worth it!  Although Mr Pepys appeared to have a far more interesting, and entertaining, life than mind, the similarities are, today, consistent. Neither of us were afforded a Sunday afternoon lounging by the pool in the Texas heat, as the much needed rain has played havoc with my plans.  (I can hear the violins..........)  Of course, I can always knit!  Perhaps I shall allow my curiosity of historical characters take precedent over my afternoon's activities and read some more on the diarist's interesting and, apparently, diverse life, but perhaps the rain will cease and we can continue to go along our individual paths, mine of course leading to .............. another story.