Over the last year, I've gone through the process of relocating from Pompano Beach in ultra-urban Southeast Florida to rural Southwest Missouri outside the town of Miller.
I'll be blogging occasionally about different aspects of my relocation to Southwest Missouri, for those of you who might be considering doing something similar (I'll let you in on a secret...it will all work out fine).
This past week, the weather has gotten colder here. A couple of little "wardrobe moments" have really brought home to me that I live in a new climate now.
Let's Talk About Sox
I lived in Florida for 10 years. Go ahead, mentally open up my dress sock drawer, I don't mind. Look, it's empty!
Women don't wear socks in South Florida. OK, you wear white socks with your athletic shoes, but that's it.
You do not wear socks with dress slacks. You wear a lovely high-heeled pair of sandals or slides, with your feet and toenails primped and polished to the nth degree.
If you wear flats, you wear them with bare feet.
Skirted business suits are worn bare-legged by those who have the legs for it...not me anymore.
And pantyhose are always an option for those who don't like all the bare-legged running around described above.
When you get dressed up for a really nice party, then of course you wear stockings with your evening gown.
But socks? Never!
So the other day, I wanted to put on a nice pair of dress khakis, and one of my favorite pairs of casual flats. But it was 40 degrees out there. I dragged out a pair of old brown cable socks that my mom gave me a few years ago, and off I went to work...and to the sock store!
I am now the proud owner of several pairs of lacy, pretty black and brown dress socks...to go with my winter wardrobe of wool dress slacks, which is another whole topic.
Where Are My Keys, Anyway?
Last Tuesday, I was over in Carthage, a very beautiful town in Southwest Missouri, about an hour west of Springfield. Dropping by Lowes, I picked up work gloves and a saw blade, paid, and made my way back to my car.
Picture this scene. It's the Lowe's parking lot. The temperature is in the low 40s, and the wind is blowing hard. I am standing there at the tailgate of my Honda CR-V, looking for my car keys.
Watch me, now: I look in my jeans pockets. I look in my purse. I look in the shopping bags. I look in the inside pocket of my purse. I check my jeans again. I begin to think of bad words, but you can't be sure of this, because I do not say them. You see me start walking back inside, and you think, "That poor woman lost her keys!"
Come on now, you northern folks know where my car keys were, don't you? You know you do.
They were in my COAT POCKET.
I have not worn a coat in 10 years. It never even occurred to my poor little relocated Florida brain that a coat existed when I was running through the mental list of options about where my keys could be.
Yup, it's going to be a long winter.
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