It's winter and my love affair with my bathrobe has reached its zenith. It's a luxury to wear and I resent having to surrender it for more suitable public apparel in order to carry on my daily life. Today I changed the sheets, did the laundry, answered email, worked on a book, made great soup for dinner, and ate lunch in my robe.
As an all purpose wardrobe piece it has limitations. I can't exercise in it without risk of injury or heatstroke. I can't grocery shop or buy a new printer ink cartridge or get my hair cut in my bathrobe, so I try to consolidate those errands and minimize their effect on my wardrobe selection. I also refuse to answer the door. I'm sure the Jehovah's Witnesses, Solar Panel Salesmen, and the FedEx guy all must think I've joined the ranks of working women.
Most of my life I've been an at home Mom, but I have never stayed in a bathrobe past breakfast until this winter. I have a limited window of opportunity because as Spring approaches I can't resist the lure of sunshine and the urge to plant new flowers in the garden. I know I'll have to bust out my old khaki's and t-shirts along with the garden gloves and shovel.
|My Roses & Lavender|
Then the weather gets really good and my thoughts turn to golf which requires another wardrobe change.
|I'm passing on my vast knowledge to another generation. Those who can do, those who can't. . .|
Solomon, and later the Byrds said, 'to everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven'. I haven't actually calculated how many mornings I've stayed in my bathrobe past 10AM. I don't know how it started except that I remember being a little more burned out than usual after the Holidays. I don't see any divine significance to it, but in my bathrobe I feel divine. I used to read a lot of English novels and the lady of the house was gently awakened by a maid with a tea tray.
|Anna can come to me if Bates goes to prison.|
So no, I don't feel guilty staying in my bathrobe.
I feel lucky.