My grandson who is 15 decided today he wanted to watch The Ten Commandments, which is a long movie, but a good one. We rented it and he and his sister – age 11 – started watching it; I was around the corner in the other room finishing up some stuff, but listening to the dialogue as I worked. I could picture the scenes in my head from memory. I guess it was about the time Moses encountered the burning bush that I went in and drew up a chair. It occurred to me that my granddaughter, who was not particularly enthused about watching this “old” movie, would find the special effects humorous. To her credit, she didn’t say a word; I was the one thinking that it looked like an electric fireplace, and a bad one at that. Irony – it works in mysterious ways. I was the one thinking Charlton Heston; she was the one thinking Moses. I was the one visually examining the divided Red Sea; she was the one immersed in the drama. I was the one looking at Edgar G. Robinson and thinking “Chicago Gangster”; she was the one deploring his behavior.

So it ended and we moved into the kitchen for a snack. My grandson sported his signature grin and asked, “So who’s up for The Greatest Story Ever Told?”

I don’t deserve a present and I certainly don’t need one – but I want one; I want a gadget. Or, I wouldn’t mind going to the mall and getting some perfume and then sitting in the food court sipping on a mixture of fountain sodas. Maybe some nachos. A new phone? A new computer? A new house? A new locale? Gee, do you think I might have an emotional need that I am trying to appease with instant gratification? And it seems it needs to come from an external source; can I not reach inside myself and find something satisfying?

This is a rambling thing here; I was planning on doing something outside today, but the sun of the past two days has gone and we have the overcast we have had almost all winter long. I think that is where I am getting this downer feeling from. It was something to find oneself actually surprised to see blue sky and shadows. Sort of reminded me of becoming ill and staying that way and then one day getting better . . . and you didn’t realize how bad you felt until you recovered.

I had toxemia long ago when I was pregnant with what I thought was my first child. Actually, there were two, at the beginning. One died and I was quite ill, lots of edema and high blood pressure, groggy thinking and all that. The elderly and experienced physician had an inkling – but this was before the days of ultrasounds. He noted on my chart “twins?” quite early but the one died before he could distinguish two heartbeats, so there we were.

Just a few hours after delivery, my blood pressure was normal; the nurse was surprised. And all my thoughts were so much clearer.

I don’t know where this is going, other than to wonder how much I have so gradually changed over the years. If I suddenly could experience my 20+ year old body, would I be amazed at the difference in how I “felt”? I suppose so. I guess it would be best to appreciate my physical state now, rather than wonder about what it felt like in a couple of decades – if I make it that long.

Gee, I am more content.

No, no one would really rent a purse. A handbag is a different story, however. Handbag is Queen of England and the late Queen Mum; Margaret Thatcher knew a handbag was classier, that’s why the green grocer’s daughter carried one, somewhat to the alleged annoyance of the Queen. They – and I don’t know who I mean by that they – are now renting expensive handbags and jewelry to ladies. I am not surprised by this. Someone apparently listened to enough sales personnel talking about charity fundraiser customers “buying a dress” and leaving the tags on, but tucked in . . . and then, yes, returning the dress. Often they sported perspiration stains on the satin and enough of a leftover expensive fragrance to leave the sales people fuming. But, of course, they could say nothing to the wannabe Mrs. Astor’s. The rationale for the buyers/returnees was, of course, that the salon should be thankful for the – cough, cough – advertising . . . ooooh, such as commercial word, dontcha know.

Anyway, take a look at this website; I found it on the right sidebar of the Pioneer Woman’s site. Now, wait a minute. It strikes me that rental handbags and jewelry are on a site where people come to see men in chaps and lovely mares, not to mention calves losing nuts and vast vistas of the prairie. It strikes me as odd. Or not. I can see ladies wanting to feel a part of a western ranch life – wannabe pioneer women if you will. So this is a place where you advertise rental high fashion, designer wares? Is this target advertising . . . oh, the questions that conjures up.