Thursday, July 16, 2009

Stop Dragging My Heart Around

There were a LOT of years in my life when I used to spend more of my time in the fabric department at WalMart than I did in my own home. Some of those years I dragged my significant other with me and put him through the rigors of matching fabrics for a current quilt project or laying out a new one. The poor slob never knew what hit him.



What I knew to be only minutes at a time, significant other ALWAYS swore it was hours at a time. But time flies when you're having fun...and maybe it really was 'hours' he subjectively endured.

I never was one to drag him along when I shopped for clothes. I always preferred the opinions of others not be relevant when choosing my wardrobe. My own warped sense of style and eye for fit was enough criticism and punishment. But mall hopping, sitting at Sonic Drive In, and going to WalMart were always a different story. These were places to 'share' special time together, and what was more special than choosing quilt fabric?! After all, he always did encourage my craft and showed off my completed projects to whom ever would even remotely be interested - whether they wanted to be or not.

But the shopping for fabrics together was akin to the Plague. Any time I asked if he wanted to tag along on one of my jaunts, he would usually politely agree, "Sure. I don't have anything better to do" as in; "the game is not on for another six hours yet" or "maybe the yard work can wait another day or two." But actually getting him in the fabric department - and keeping him there was a struggle.

WalMart was a struggle because it was a department store, as in having OTHER things BESIDES fabric and the like. In the older stores, the fabric department was usually sandwiched between Sporting Goods and Automotive...and Lawn and Garden was just a hop, skip, and jump away too. Sooooo, he didn't feel TOO tortured when it came to tagging along. There was always the 'escape' route for him. He could walk to fabrics with me, stand there with hands in pockets while I asked his opinion about a piece or two, nod, smile, "uh-huh" gratuitously, and then suddenly decide he needs a couple of things from the aforementioned areas. Escape complete.

But a 'fabric store' might as well have been the paddy wagon; locked up and on a one way journey to Nowheresville. He didn't go with me too many times to the specialty shops, but there were occasions when he did come along...and I got to where I hated him being there as much as he did. So I learned to make those trips myself...and to relish the time alone to revel in all the splendor that is a fabric shop.

Today, I don't even begin to think of asking my new sweetie to accompany me on my trips to these places for these things. I learned my lesson previously from the old significant others. He's all for my endeavors into the world of creativity...so long as he's not dragged along on the outings for supplies. And I prefer it that way. It really is better as just 'my thing'. And he always seems to appreciate that I prefer it that way. I prefer not to have to endure the sudden aches and pains, extreme tiredness, or the sudden remembrance that he had a previous engagement and we gotta go...NOW!

OK. So I'm done with dragging my male counterparts to the things I like to do, and I prefer not being dragged to the stuff he likes to do. Those days are long past, wasted on what was my youth, and now I enjoy doing stuff alone in my old age. It just works better that way. And we have recently discovered that we are eating supper around 4pm instead of 6 to 7ish. Come to think of it, I kind of wind up in bed by 7:30, and he falls asleep on the couch long before then. And I'm the one who drives to wherever we need to go. And I find myself in the slow lane with the turn signal ever blinking unbeknownst to me until some passerby yells 'turn your blinker off grandma!"

So, I'm getting old. Spending time alone is not so bad. Early meals ain't so bad either. Shopping for my supplies alone is a great thing. Now, shut up and drive.

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