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Dear Reader,
My husband and I looked at each other and said, "We really need to get out more!"
Every Thursday I flip through the "Ticket" insert in our local newspaper. The "Ticket" is the go-to place when you want to know what's happening in Sarasota. Where to eat, shop, be part of a guided nature walk, who's headlining at McCurdy's comedy club, what time Selby Garden's orchid show starts, or where to buy tickets for the Swing Band Concert, which is what caught my eye.
My husband and I had recently vowed to "get out more." It's not that we don't do things--fun things--but we're pretty much 'around the house' folks. When we do plan something in the evening, we have good intentions, but when the sun goes down we start hinting about how tired we are, don't want to fight the traffic, wouldn't it be fun to just stay home and watch a movie? So we rarely make it out the door...unless I buy tickets in advance. So early in the month I bought two tickets for the Swing Band Concert.
Most of our social functions are low-key, and don't require us to dig deep in the closet to get out our good clothes. I'm a vintage gal, so my good clothes are really old, no problem for me.
"How does this look?" I knew my vintage dress and hat looked great, but every girl loves a compliment, so I asked my husband anyway.
"You look amazing, but what's that squeaking sound?"
"I don't hear anything," I told him.
"Walk closer to me. The squeaking sound seems to follow you."
First step, squeak, squeak. Oh my gosh, I realized the dress-up shoes that were probably 15 years old (but still looked okay), were tired, worn out and squeaking. It was a first for me, but obviously these shoes needed to be retired, so I put on another pair, and out the door we went.
My husband had dressed-up for the occasion, too. No jeans and a T-shirt, instead a nice black shirt (I couldn't ever remember seeing before), and khaki dress pants. But as we were driving to the concert I looked over and noticed the tops of the shoulders, on his black dress shirt, were covered in dust.
"When was the last time you wore this shirt?" I asked, as I was brushing dust of his shoulders.
"Well, obviously it's been awhile, because it was way in the back of my closet. To tell you the truth, I forgot I even had it."
And that's when my husband and I looked at each other and said, "We really need to get out more!"
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
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