any alpaca products at the alpaca breeders’ display booths. Nor did I squish an actual alpaca into the boot of my hubby’s workcar. Good judgement, and a fine appreciation of my plans to save up for Bendi won the day.
Of course, that would be after spending 5 hours shopping with my Mum, and buying a capacious shoulder bag, 4 shirts, 2 blouses, 1 skirt and a pair of charcoal pin-striped bootcut jeans, and trying on fifteen other things. We walked all over Hobart, snacked on sushi after 2pm came and went without lunch, and had a lovely lovely time chatting and talking about life and family and work and interests and the weird thing that person over there just did.
I will blog pics tomorrow – we are off to dinner with the parents tonight for their wedding anniversary, so I will shortly have to plunge into character as Mum the Merciless, heartlessly rending my children from their joyful playing across the road, callously thrusting them into the bathroom for a wash, cruelly forcing them to wear nice clothes (probably not that cruel, they like ‘party clothes’, with the possible exception of Miss V, who likes whatever is most unsuitable for the weather/activity/time of day/parental sanity), and viciously insisting that we leave the house no more than 10 minutes late.
Now, I wonder what I should wear….?
(ps the bag was the only accidental find – the shopping for actual clothes was intentional and premeditated. Now watch me toss out the oldest, most faded and stretched-out tshirts in my wardrobe – including the one I was wearing until Tar-zhay provided me with the royal blue crossover number currently enhancing my self esteem and frontage.)