Cake and Dishcloths

Husband and I celebrated our seventeenth wedding anniversary a few days ago. We decided that that meant we needed cake. And wine.

Homemade German chocolate cake, at Husband's request, and a bottle of red with a label that made us both snicker.  It wasn't fancy, but we honestly couldn't come up with much else.  We had gone out to lunch and done a little shopping earlier in the day. After the hordes of weekend shoppers, cake and wine on the couch together sounded outstanding.
During said shopping, I picked up a ball of dishcloth cotton.  Something a bit louder than the standard. I absolutely adore it.

It's more vibrant in person. Darling Daughter called it clown barf. Husband and Darling Son, raised eyebrows and shrugged, forbearing actual verbal commentary.  I have cheerful washcloths to wash my face with. What problem?
The thing I've been most in need of lately is a bit more exercise. So I took up burlesque.  In my living room.  For now.