Fleeced again!

©2013 Lydia Hinshaw

There are at least four more upstairs

 ST. AUGUSTINE BEACH, FL -- It was the Super Bowl that brought us here.
 Prince Charming wanted to see the game. I was mildly interested and willing to go along.  But we don't have television anymore.
  Cable was costing us more than $600 for the seven months we spend in Ormond Beach each year.  That figure doesn't include any premium channels, but it does include a ton of trash neither of us would watch except at gunpoint, which is pretty much how the cable company makes you buy it.
 We decided we'd rather put the cable money elsewhere, like into a motel room when there's something important we want to see.  For about the cost of one month's cable, we were able rent a beachfront motel room with a flat-screen.
 Since we were in the area, I took the opportunity to return some merchandise to the local factory outlet mall.  Unfortunately this errand drew me into the force field that is fleece.
 I love fleece pullovers and jackets.  They're soft and warm and comfortable. They don't get wrinkled.  They shed water rather than soaking it up like a sweatshirt does.
 If there's anything wrong with fleece, it's that if you can avoid melting it, it never wears out.  Never fades.  My first one, bought in the 1990s, still looks great except for the pea-sized melted spot on one sleeve, which always reminds me of the night it happened, by a popping campfire on a cold night in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.
 I wear fleeces a lot, to ward off the chill in Florida winters and Montana summers, and spring and fall in between.
 But no matter how many fleece pullovers I have, there always seems to be another one on sale in a color I can't resist.
 So I came home from our Super Bowl trip with two new fleeces, both bought for half price or less.
 There's no way to rationalize this, so I no longer even try.