If you're happy and you know it

One of the best parts of moving, near or far, is the retail therapy to salve the wounds of jet lag and geographic discombobulation and the absence of, say, forks and dust pans and the purple tutu you spy at the PX, the most garish thing you've ever seen but even toddlers need retail therapy, you deduce.

Today's purchases: one hairbrush (I have been using Charlotte's dolly comb since we left the flat, you do the math, shiver), one veggie steamer, one dish scrubber and one teeny-tiny garbage can, just big enough to hold one used tissue and the cellophane wrapper surrounding a tampon. Maybe it's the john Lewis aesthetic, but that store makes me misty with joy, it's part Nordstrom, part William Sonoma...and it even has a knitting section. Bliss.