When I am old

I was mooching round some clothes rails with my husband today on a rare visit to town. He was moaning about the lack of interesting and affordable men's clothes and I was depressed by all the grey and beige woollies in the women's aisles.  I was reminded by this poem by Jennifer Jones which starts...

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, ......

Most of the clothes we saw were expensive, would not last one wash let alone half  a year and were dull and thin.  I shall book a half day to mooch round the charity shops after my next wardrobe review. I shall look for much brighter colours.

We returned from town with a pile of library books and some meal worms to a bright sunny afternoon which allowed us to rush round the garden doing those little jobs (logs, veg peelings to compost, dig up carrots, weed in the poly tunnel, replenish bird table and feeders).  Retired back indoors at 4pm to shake our heads sadly at the USA antics and plan to watch BBC's Winterwatch next week!!!