I admit it. I miss blogging. I miss writing about important to me stuff. So, here's a little something along those lines.
This is not a blog post about anything rusty or chippy.
It's not that long awaited "Let me tell you all about our wedding" post that I need to write. Truly, I cannot write that until I send out all of the thank you notes. Really. I'm sure Emily Post wrote that somewhere. "No wedding blog posts until thank you notes have been mailed." Surely. If Emily didn't say it, my Mom did.
Today's subject is a first world problem. I admit it. I know it. I am not saying it should be high on your list of issues.
Socks. I'm talking about socks. Not just any socks. Some that I like, nay love. I can't remember who, but someone gave about 4 pair to me several years ago. Everyone in my family has been asked and not one person remembers giving them to me. They may have. They may not have. It's not unusual for me to ask for socks, so it could have been anyone, really. For sure, no one specifically remembers giving me these socks.
The brand is unknown. The online or physical store is unknown.
Brown and gray. Women's. Woolish. Slouch-i-ish. A nice fit for my "healthy" calves.
Can you tell that they are warm? Take my word for it, they are. And they do slouch, I just pulled them up so you could get a good look at them.
Where, oh where, did they come from?
Do you see why I'm asking? This is my last pair. Yes. That's my Christmas Red toenail.
Here I am in blog land pleading: Does anybody know where these came from or where I can get more?
This is what it's come to. Me resurfacing on my old business page to ask for help with socks. And if you can't help, can you empathize?
I know, Mom. I should be writing thank you cards. But, my toe is cold!
Happy New Year!
Fashion over 50: Camel and Black
10 hours ago