Emily.jpg

Hi.

Welcome to my blog. Although my friend, Rita, does not like the word “blog.” It really isn’t a very pretty word and it rhymes with equally ugly words like slog, clog, smog, bog, flog, etc. It does rhyme with dog, however, and that’s a great word. Maybe I’ll call it my “musings” instead? That’s a lovely word.

Money may not be able to buy happiness...

Money may not be able to buy happiness...

…but it can buy you lots of things at LL Bean, which in essence is very similar to happiness.

Before Christmas, I discovered LL Bean. Of course I’d heard of them. We had even been to the flagship store in Freeport, ME. When I say discovered, I mean that I became absolutely and totally obsessed with them.

Since the fall, I’ve purchased two coats, 3 flannel shirts, a corduroy tunic, five long-sleeved knit shirts, a sweatshirt, two t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, four pairs of pants, two wrinkle-free button- down shirts, pajamas, two hats, a crossbody bag, and slippers for Bill, my folks, and me. Maybe just a little obsessed?

I’ve even started looking at houses in Freeport for retirement. Me? A girl who has never lived in snow? Yeah, probably not going to happen. Although LL Bean has adorable parkas, which I’m pretty sure would keep me toasty.

There’s something going on in my brain about the fantasy of enjoying the outdoors and being all cozy at the same time. And here’s the thing. I’m not really all that crazy about the outdoors. I mean I love a good hike. As long as there is a good nap indoors afterwards. You can keep your camping and fishing and hunting and all of the stinky and dirty stuff. Well, I like gardening and that’s pretty dirty. But there’s little chance of getting lost in the woods and having to pee behind a tree. I’m not averse to a good sweat. I mean I’ve run the marathon. Twice. I just like to know that I’m going to get a hot shower afterwards, not just some dunk in a river. I mean that’s not even civilized.

Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe I’ve changed my look to that of a logger. Maybe Covid has changed me into a survivalist? That sounds exhausting, probably not. I consider the microwave my most useful cooking tool, I don’t think I’m going to go hunting down fixins for roadkill stew. I tried hunting doves once and it was absolutely traumatic. Give me a Lean Cuisine any day.

I have generally eschewed labels on my clothing and accessories. I’ll buy fancy brands, but I don’t want a name or logo emblazoned across the side of it. That’s just me, I don’t care what other people choose to do. I just don’t care to be a walking billboard for some of these things after I’ve maxed out my credit card paying for it. With LL Bean though, I want absolutely everything to say “LL Bean” right across the front of it. I want everyone to know that’s what I’ve got on. If it doesn’t have a label, I’ll happily tell every Tom, Dick, and Harry who I’m wearing. As though they care. Who in the hell are Tom, Dick, and Harry anyway? And why don’t they care what I’m wearing?

So what is this LL Bean craze all about? I mean why all of the sudden must I have all of this flannel? There must be some psychological theory behind this transformation, right? A need I couldn’t fulfill with Nordstrom (I know, I know, that’s just blasphemy)? Actually, we went shopping at Nordstrom last week and you know what we saw in the pajamas department? LL Bean. Yep.

So maybe it’s not just me. Maybe there’s a whole bunch of us out here enjoying our lavender LL beanies, flannel tunics, Beanflex jeans, Rangeley t-shirts, and pjs with Labrador retrievers wearing winter scarves on them. Oh and let’s not forget the sherpa lined suede slippers. Like heaven! Maybe it’s just part of the need to feel comfortable in a world that has become increasingly mentally uncomfortable.

Or maybe they are just the happiest store on earth and I just love them!

National Quilting Month

National Quilting Month

Ode to My Breakfast Sandwich

Ode to My Breakfast Sandwich