Mislaid?

It's funny how one thought leads to another (or in this case, to a memory). 

I was wondering where I had "mislaid" my make-up. After all, I knew I brought it back with me because I remembered tucking it someplace. Only problem was, I couldn't remember where "someplace" was...

And I then had what in a film would be shot as a flashback...

Here it was, the morning of Granddaddy's funeral and I couldn't find my make-up anywhere. I looked in all the more sensible places that a girl might pack her make-up...but I couldn't find it. I began to suspect that I had accidentally left it on the counter up north.
So, I borrowed Mama's--replete with eyeliner...on the bottom...which I did not like, but couldn't really get wiped off. (I thought I looked weird; I kind of tend towards the low-make-up/no make-up approach anyway.)

Then, oh, about a week and a half later, I found the stuff. In my guitar music bag of all places! What normal guitar playing female doesn't pack her "fixin's" in her music bag??

Well, apparently, I didn't follow that same brilliant rule of thumb on the trip back up. I guess I thought someplace else would be more sensible.  Instead, I packed it in...get this...a shoe box. But not any ol' shoe box. A shoe box with summer sandals in it. A box, that, if I hadn't had a fuzzy notion that I might, just might have put the facial goop in it, that I probably would not have opened again until April. 

And there you have it. Don't trust Racheal to keep track of her own beautifiers. She's bound to stick it anyplace but her suitcase...and then forget in which of her tangent bags she poked it. 


Bows and exits.

     Racheal