It’s official. I’m on the hunt for a mother of the bride dress. But I’ve hit a few snags.

Yes, I’m 53 now. But I’m a young 53. I like to dress partly fashionable. Unfrumpy-like. Stylish but not matronly. Ok?

I knew I was in trouble when I browsed through the rack at a local bridal shop in their MOB selection.

I knew further that trouble was brewing when I googled “Mother of the Bride Dresses” and found that they are often strapless, gaudy and backless or chiffon layers, spaghetti straps with a jacket. Add to that no one has any on a rack to take home. Each seem to be a special order item worthy of a 12 week delay. What’s that about?

Is it too much to ask for a lovely a-line dress in a nice fabric with built in 3/4 sleeves?

I can not imagine myself wearing what I’ve found except for one that may still be on the “too dressy” side of fashion. But it is a night-time wedding. And it is a dinner and dance reception. So I may decide to order it and wait 12 weeks and pray it looks like the picture on the internet. Or pray it doesn’t look like the picture and is less flashy.

Or not.

Where did you find your MOB dress?

Dear Martha Stewart,

I have no clue why you would think I care what you think about Rachel or Sarah. But now that I know, its obvious that your taste in fine things has eroded. In its place is envy. It does not suit you.

No longer will I go out of my way to check out your newest stuff at Macy’s or K-Mart or wherever you are selling your line.

Its no longer a good thing.

Signed a former and now disappointed fan,

Fabulous Fifty

Fearfully and wonderfully made - my granddaughter has arrived and I couldn’t love her more.

Living on a military base growing up there were some normal activities that others might find odd. Or just different. Peculiar.

At 1700 hours the base would come to a stop. Soldiers in uniform would salute as the Star Spangled Banner was played as the US flag was saluted, lowered, folded and put away for the evening.If we were driving by, our car would stop and wait until the nation’s “colors” were put away.

If we were playing on the playground, all activity would stop.In fact, even if it wasn’t 1700 hours and we were at a movie theatre, the show did not begin until the national anthem was played, the flag was displayed and the audience had stood on their feet with their hands over their hearts.

In the morning, (long before I was up!) the flag was unfolded, ceremoniously raised with salutes and more anthems as the day began.

I grew up to love the flag which represented the nation I love: The nation my father served in the U.S. Air Force and retired from as a Lt Colonel.

This past week our family observed once more the folding of the flag we love.

My brother and sister and I sat under a green canopy with a flag covering our father’s casket in Austin, Texas. We were surrounded by our spouses and children, our dad’s siblings, our cousins and friends.

Air Force Blues marched with shiny, tappy shoes and rifles. Folded flag. Salute. Three rifle volleys. Taps by the bugler. The flag presented and rested one last time. Full military honors.

Day is done, gone the sun, from the lakes from the hills from the sky, all is well, safely, rest, God is nigh.

I was watching TV this morning and recognized background music during a Purina One Dog Food commercial.Go Billy!