The cool part about living in a small town is that when you ask the bank manager if she needs to see your marriage certificate to become a signatory on your husband’s account, she tells you that she saw your wedding photo in the local paper, so she knows you’re married.
The cool thing about living in a town slightly bigger than those around us is that when your four-year-old is off to her first day of kinder and you can’t find the only pair of shoes that fit her, you can pull up in front of the local shoe store before you get to the kinder, run inside, find a pair of shoes on a shelf that are suitable, tell the shop keeper that you’ll be back soon, run back to the car and shove them on the bare feet of your daughter as she sits in her carseat nursing her backpack.
The first week of kinder was a success. It was exciting enough to have new shoes, a new uniform polo shirt and a new windcheater, but to learn new songs, make new friends, and be able to paint a picture without being asked whether you really want to do painting right now (while I’m making tea) just topped it off.
Pity I don’t know someone who can sew to snip the bottom off the two new smallest-available tops:
I was very excited to see one of my jersey dresses amongst the Purple Finds on the madeit homepage today: