Reading Happiness is… by Ms Cellania late this afternoon, I was inspired to write a blog post (I was at the desperate stage today for ideas, so went outside to work out my frustration on the path at the side of my bungalow and the patio. Please don’t tell Elly or I will have to endure another lecture about overdoing things). Ms Cellania wrote about purchasing a handbag (purse as my American friends say) for her mother.
I always liked bags; they came for me only in second place to shoes. During the 60’s on any spring day walking down Grafton Street in Dublin, passing by Fitzpatrick’s Shoe Shop was as difficult for me as an alcoholic passing the open door of a pub. In my early working days the turn of a season was the opportunity to buy a new pair of shoes with a bag and gloves to match.
I am sure I mentioned before about my experiences of going for job interviews. We were expected to turn up not alone punctual, but clean, tidy and sporting a neat suit, hat with matching bag, shoes and gloves!
To this day I have a selection of bags in different colours, shapes and sizes. A couple of the more dressy bags for evening use were produced by my own fair hands.
Nowadays, unless I am expecting to be out for a full day it is more usual to see me sporting trousers with several pockets. Skirts leave the legs cold and they seldom have pockets. I now like pockets because they carry all the necessities I must have about me wherever I go.
In my left hand pocket I keep my GTN spray – it gives me the puff to chase Toyboys, mobile phone for emergency calls so Elly can keep track of where I go, and because it contains ICE numbers. In the other ones I keep tissues, a list of medical information that includes my name & address, contact details for my next-of-kin, doctor and details of the medication I must take and those to which I am allergic.
Finally I have this:
It is a small purse with two pockets. The smaller one is for coins while the larger pocket contains various cards and bank notes. On one corner I have punched a hole to attach a ring and have added to it all the necessary keys that I need to carry.
With all these items spread among my pockets I keep my hands free and am ready for anything. I don’t need to carry the kitchen sink with me everywhere I go and I no longer suffer back and neck ache from a heavy bag over my shoulder.
To add a little colour this is one of the bags I made from scraps: