Good morning bloggers

I’m back from my jaunt to the island. 

Now, you know how I blogged on Friday about all the things I had to do before I went charging out the door.  Well, when we got into the car, I felt quite smug that I had managed to do everything, with a couple of minutes to spare.  It wasn’t until we were soaring down the highway at a good clip, that I realized that maybe, just maybe, I had forgotten a thing or two. 

See, I had thrown, not one, but two pairs of perfectly good, stand-in-front-of-a-group-of-people-and-blather-about-my-books pants, tops.  I remembered to bring a good-for-me-horrifying-to-Jenny pair of shoes.  I felt quite pleased that I had remembered this item, because the last time I had a fancy outing when I was there, Lee’s birthday and the bookstores anniversary, I brought a very nice outfit, but I had forgotten to bring shoes and had to dig up a grotty pair of sandals out of the dust ladened closet of our cabin, shake them off and wear them.  Would have been fine, except it was the dead of winter and pouring buckets of rain.

What I realized I had forgotten to fling into my recyclable grocery bag, was undergarments. 

Not so bad, some of you might be thinking.  Who would know?  Go commando. 

Fine, I understand your thinking.  However, going commando on the bottom half is one thing.  Going commando on the top, after nursing three children, is quite another! 

And yes, I did have a bra on at the time.  But it was one of those bras that no sane woman would ever admit to having.  It was an old faithful, that should have been discarded years ago, that practically covers the body from the collar bone all the way down to the bottom of the ribs.  No, under-wire.  Very comfortable, great to write in.  Very ugly, and unless one is wearing a blouse that has no dip what-so-ever, one is fine.

Unfortunately, the two tops that I had packed, both dipped quite fetchingly.

I felt a slight jolt of panic but then I soothed myself with a “Never mind, Meg.  I am sure you will have some old bra that won’t be a complete embarrassment, stuffed into one of the drawers up at the cabin. 

Well...Let me just put it this way, any bra that has been left at the cabin to molder, is there for a reason. 

Luckily, there were underwear.  But the bra situation was a little more dire.  There was one, and only one that fit and did not show.

Where this bra came from?  I have no idea.  I can’t imagine ever buying such a thing.  But I must have, because there it was.  There were two of them actually.  A black one and a flesh colored one.  I am certain neither one had ever been worn.  The tags were off, but they had that stiff gleam of the untried.  I must have had a moment of insanity when Don and I first got together and raced out to the store to buy something remotely female, had no idea about bra styles anymore, since it had been years and years since I’d last purchased one, and ended up with these mis-guided mistakes.

They had a built in under pad, under-wire (which is something I totally avoid) They were stiff and unyielding.  How unyielding I would discover later.  I was just relieved when I found the black one because even though it made my boobs look ridiculously zaftig.  It was relatively invisible under my shirt.

It wasn’t until we got into the car to go to the event and I went to strap in, that I had my first inkling that I shouldn’t be feeling quite so pleased.  As my arm went across my chest it was like banging into a semi-solid object.  No give, no squish.  More like banging up against a super-large cardboard egg carton.  Slightly thinner than an egg cartoon though because as more pressure was exerted, the damn bra cup would sort of pop and invert, like it was hollow!  Never mind that I am not only filling whatever the under pad is not, but I am spilling out of it like a merry milkmaid.  The darn cups are making a hollow knock sound and inverting!

Anyway, wouldn’t you know it, there was a lot of hugging when I arrived.  I made sure not to look anyone in the face after a hug, so I wouldn’t see the rather surprised expression on their faces, like...is she wearing falsies?

I love reading at this store.  Weird bra and all.  Seonaid was there and Lee brought her grand-daughter Olivia (who is a writer as well) and cookies.  Her grand-son was there but he was too young to stay for the reading and so he and his grand-daddy went for a walk.  There were so many friendly faces.  Some that I knew and some that I didn’t.  It was a different Q&A than I usually have, most of the questions were writerly ones.

After the reading, there was the usual signing of books and Lee gave me a beautiful journal.  But of course, this is the island, so nothing is the usual, and this did not prove to be the exception to the rule.  Mario came.  Mario is one of those people that you’ve never met before, but the minute you look into his face, you feel like you have known each other for a very long time.  Anyway, as well as the pink copy of Porcupine, that he is reading on his breaks at the construction site, and roaring at his co-workers (I put the roaring part in, because it amused me.  Mario doesn’t seem like the roaring type.) “Don’t laugh.  It’s a good book!” Anyway, that story alone, made my heart happy.  But then, even better, he went out to his truck and brought back this long wooden instrument for me to sign.  That’s not the good part though, the good part is that after I signed it, we asked him if he would play a little bit and he did, and I have to tell you, this didgeridoo thing, when he blows into it, it’s low rumble, goes right through you.  It’s a real good feeling.

So, even though I had a very uncomfortable and odd cone collapsing bra, I had a wonderful time, and should probably quit blogging and go work on my manuscript so that some day I can have another book published and come back to read at this bookstore again.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, June 09, 2008 in Chewing the Fat

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