Swish Swash

The newest addition to my wardrobe is a pair of corduroy pants. I've been looking for some for years, and now that I have them, I'm remembering how warm they are ... and how they talk back to you.

Swish, swish, swash, they say, as I cruise down the hall to retrieve a book from my bedside table. Swash, swash, swish, they say, as I amble down the street. 

Unlike some of their confreres, these trousers work as well on long walks as they do in interminable writing sessions.  And unlike the tights and leggings I wear, these are presentable for running errands. 

There's gonna be a whole lotta swish-swashing going on. 

(This is large wale, mine is small.)