Day 40 of the ‘100 Pleat a Day for 100 Days’ Challenge that was set by Claire and Melissa and today I am all prim and proper and ‘practically perfect‘ ….just like Mary Poppins ! This pleat was made in the traditional way, by gathering up all my hair at the neckline and then twisting it upwards and securing with hair-pins. As my hair is long, I have to work the loose ends back down under the pleat and then up again ….tucking it all in as I go. But if your hair is shorter, you shouldn’t need to twist up and down ….just tuck the ends in and secure with pins, a barrette or a hair-fork ….or whatever takes your fancy. Here I have added a little diamante clip …… for no other reason than I like sparkle ………….
Gosh ….Day 40 …… another 60 to go and, I must admit, I’m struggling a little for inspiration. I think I’ve more or less mastered the art of the French pleat; it used to be fashionable when I was a girl ……. And, after all, I have been doing hair in some shape or form for many years now. I can’t say that any of my dogs have ever sported a ‘pleat’ exactly …..but I have become accustomed to the feel and handle of hair and have become fairly proficient in caring for and styling long locks. And my friends and family have often turned to me for help with various hair-styles over the years.
But, I will continue ………. I am determined to do this…….. inspiration will come I’m sure. After all ….if this was easy, it wouldn’t be much of a Challenge ….would it ?
Today my best friend, Matt, is helping some neighbours to move house ……which has reminded me of this story …….something to read with your Friday afternoon cuppa ……….
Kneeling on the floor, Susan carefully wrapped the Tiffany lamps in bubble-wrap and placed them in the cardboard box, then stuffed more paper into every cavity around them and sat back and surveyed her handiwork.
The movers van would soon be here and she didn’t want to detain them any longer than necessary, but she was weary and in a pensive mood.
She glanced over at her husband of forty years as he gathered his documents and put them into his briefcase. For a brief moment she wondered if they were doing the right thing. Forty years was a long time to spend in one place, but recently she had been feeling like a caged animal. However, selling the family home had been a huge decision.
She smiled as she recalled the evening they had broken the news to the children. Oh, it had caused quite a ruction !
“ You’re doing what ? “ their son had exclaimed, “ You can’t …it’s not right …this is our home !” He had always been the bossier of the two … and the loudest !
” Have you thought this through ?” their daughter had asked softly, “ Are you sure this is what you want ? “
Susan had sighed and patiently said,
“You both have your own homes now … your own lives. Your father and I have made up our minds, so that’s all that needs to be said !”
Then she had poured another glass of wine and wandered into the kitchen to check on dinner. They would have to like the situation or lump it.
And so the ‘FOR SALE’ sign had gone up. The wooden post hammered into the perfect lawn and troops of prospective buyers and various nosey neighbours had traipsed through the immaculate rooms, leaving muddy footprints on the cream carpets and finger-prints on the highly polished surfaces. Susan had smiled and made cups of coffee and answered questions about heating, local schools and dustbin collections.
Thankfully the house had sold quickly and then the packing had begun.
She had been even busier then, sorting out what would be kept and what would be sent to charity shops or distributed to the children. Her husband, as usual, had done very little to help, but she had managed it all, in her calm and efficient way. Now Susan had just a couple more things to do and then everything was ready.
The van pulled up outside and the men began loading the boxes.
She walked slowly through the house, checking each room. In her slim hands she held a silver sixpence. She had found it in a hamper in the attic that morning. Ah, it had been years since she had seen a ‘tanner’………….. she used to collect them in a jar a life-time ago ………
The removal van pulled away from the house, loaded up with the furniture that her husband had chosen to take to his new home. He had long gone, whizzing off in his Mercedes, still cursing her and calling her a whore.
Susan waited by the garden gate until she saw him get off the bus and walk across the road towards her. She waved and giggled and ran back up the path to the front porch. Tossing her long hair over her shoulders she picked up her back-pack … that and the silver sixpence was all she was taking with her. Without a backward glance she walked happily down the path towards her lover and her new life.
This piece of nonsense has been brough to you courtesy of Matt’s Word Game and the words;
Movers, busier, tanner, bossier, ruction, detain, cavity, loudest, hamper, lamps, caged.