Classic Symptoms Of A Momentary Squeeze

Most days I have an idea of what I'll write before I get a chance to do it, but not always.

Tata: Did you see the pictures of Pete's dining room?
Mom: I heard you painted it red. Are you sure? Red?
Tata: It's a deep red with blue tones, a kind of Chinese red. It's not at all orange. The trim is ultra white, and you remember Sylvia's modern teak furniture.
Mom: It's an Italian color scheme, like the restaurant table cloths.
Tata: It's not like that!
Mom: I can almost picture the flocked wallpaper.
Tata: Like one of those wedding palaces on Route 22?
Mom: Your father had relatives with red flocked wallpaper. They were so proud. They actually thought it was beautiful.
Tata: You thought it was -
Mom: Tragic.
Tata: Huh. No wonder I'm a raving bitch!

No, sometimes I'm bumbling along and a blog post happens.

Tata: My grandmother was a woman of exceptional taste. She had lovely furniture and jewelry. She was well-read and ran her own beauty salon. She had good taste.
Perplexed Co-Worker: How timely of you to mention it, since I was just wondering if your grandmother was a woman of good taste. But why do you say so?
Tata: My grandmother had a lovely apartment and, mysteriously, plastic fruit. After her death, we divided up the ancestral plastic fruit and I had a large collection. My friends and I took to pinning plastic grapes into our hair on festive occasions.
PCW: My goodness, that would be festive. Even so, I cannot say where this story is going.
Tata: Years ago, a friend borrowed some plastic fruit and misplaced it. She offered me dollar store substitutions but I would have none of it! I well know quality when I see it or the lack of it in plastic fruit and gave it back.
PCW: That's right! You can't lower your standards where plastic fruit are concerned.
Tata: Then last night I received a phone call from another friend. As she cleaned part of a room she hadn't used much in some time, she unearthed two bunches of plastic grapes with hair pins still attached. My plastic fruit and I will be reunited tonight!
PCW: You must bring them to work so that I can see them.
Tata: Maybe someday. For now, the plastic fruit and I need time alone, as a family.

You'll be happy to hear the plastic fruit are recovering nicely from their long ordeal.