The old adage, “Time is wasted on the young” makes tons more sense to me now than when I was in my 20s. Back then, Time seemed to drag forever, especially on slow work days and when there was someplace exciting to be when the work day was over. Now it seems, Time is racing and even though obstacles and barriers are placed in its path, nothing and no one will slow its progress.
Checking my calendar, I suddenly focused on the fact that March is sprinting for the finish line and morphing into April–a super month of warmer sunshine, that colourful blast of more bountiful blooms in the gardens and best of all, less clothing. By less clothing, I’m thinking, stash away the heavy sweaters and winter coats–bring on the light jackets and short sleeve tops. The weather here may be warmer but it’s still too fickle deciding upon rain or sun, so only a hardy few are showing off by wearing tees, shorts and sandals. Did I mention that the few hardy souls have buff bodies and legs that go on forever?
Being short has its disadvantages. When I wear my shorts, what you see is all the leg view you’ll get. And that segues nicely into my next thought—I am on a searching-for-the-right-shorts mission. Like searching for the right bathing suit, finding the right pair of shorts can be quite daunting. Many are designed for itty-bitty waists and have enough spandex to lock a body into a highly contained package guaranteed not to pop open with a strategically placed zipper/button/snap in the right location. When the right body slithers into it and zips/buttons/snaps it closed, it looks spectacular–everything fits as it should and the person wearing it can still breathe quite normally. The length is short enough so that the wearee cannot bend over unless she wants to be arrested. There is still room enough to insert a tiny hand into the tiny front or side pockets.
My ideal pair of shorts must have an elasticized waistband with no zippers, buttons or snaps to worry about. It definitely has to have two deep side or front pockets for snacks, parking meter money, cellphone, keys and hanky. It has to be short enough to be called “shorts” and when I bend over, I’m definitely safe from being arrested for indecent exposure. AND my perfect shorts has to look good, feel good and be in my favourite colour. Simple, right?
I did find my ideal version of the perfect shorts but it was in the big ladies department. The small could fit me quite comfortably in one leg hole. Okay–back to my mission. This may take my entire Spring/Summer. Hmm-mm, where did I pack away my fave pair of faded denim shorts from last year? After all, it took me 10 years to have it “seasoned” with that faded, slightly ripped, holey look and best of all, it still fits!