Thursday, April 14, 2011

Where Can I Get Maternity Dungarees?

I’m on a mystery reading streak right now. This is much better than the last time I was pregnant when I watched TV instead. I tuned in to most of the shows on the Crime and Suspense channel and closely followed the Natalee Holloway case on Fox News. There were a few other sensational crimes at that time and they all caught my interest. At night, I would weep because I was bringing an innocent baby into this wretched and wicked world. This time around, I’m watching practically no TV at all, but I am reading mysteries. I’m staying away from Sue Grafton and Sara Paretsky, preferring my collection of Agatha Christies and Dorothy Sayers(es?). I recently finished my collection (not a complete one, so if you have ACs and DSs you want to get rid of, throw them my way) and wondered which set to tackle next. Marguerite chose for me – Trixie Belden. I haven’t started reading YA lit to her, but she likes to get books from my shelves and demand that I tell her about the picture on the cover. That’s why she knows about Trixie, Honey and all the other Bob-whites. On the book I’m reading right now, my mom had written “Ivy Papa” (my maiden name) and the date 091889. I first read it when I was 12. I can picture myself reading it for the first time. I would probably be lying on my bed with the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the windows. I would be wearing ratty clothes (you know the ensemble – frayed shorts and a holey T-shirt), but classy-ing things up with dangly earrings and a charm bracelet (silver – I learned early that silver jewellery looked better on me as gold made my skin look sallow) – I liked things that jingled and jangled. I would have some kind of salty snack and a cold drink on the bedside table. For the 12-yr-old me – a new book, junk food, lounging in bed… life couldn’t get any better than that. Now, more than 20 years later, I think I know better, but I lie down in bed reading the exact same book, still wishing that I could be friends with Trixie and Honey, and wondering why we don’t say “dungarees” anymore…

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