My Fleeting Labor Day
From Wikipedia: Labor Day. “The holiday is often regarded as a day of rest and parties.”
Hmmmmm, somehow, I missed that memo. Today has been a day to play ‘catch-up’ on a lot of housekeeping that has been let go in the past few weeks. I haven’t gotten a whole lot done, although I have caught up on my laundry. I don’t have to wash out a pair of undies tonight before I go to bed, if you catch my drift.
I guess my friends got the memo though, because I’ve heard from quite few of them today! That’s why not much cleaning has been done . . .
My friend with the stuck burned beans happily reported that the odor is out of her house and she was able to get the burned beans out of her pot without using Old Man, Sr.’s recipe for disaster (please read yesterday’s blog).
Do any of you have friends who have dark brown hair, but do really blonde things? I know a few of these type of people (and they are not all women) and one of them called me today. Normally, this woman is very reasonable, intelligent and has a lot of common sense. But, the fact that she called me today laughing hysterically about something her daughter did, made me put her in the brunette-acting-like-a-blonde category. I mean, I don’t even know her very well and she’s telling me something silly about her daughter! Who would talk about their own family’s foibles in public? Tell me, who? I certainly wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t pass these stories on for any amount of money. I mean, when a 14 year old does something so silly and so blonde, it’s better to just let it rest. She will never live it down anyway, so why stir the pot? Dear reader, you be the judge.
My friend is remodeling her house, tearing things out, putting new things in, painting, sanding floors. It’s a huge project. Her daughter, who is fourteen, was at school, telling her friends about all the commotion at home, describing to the inth degree every detail. She was describing the lighting fixtures that were to go into the kitchen when one of her friends interrupted with what she thought was a useful piece of information. Her parents had just finished remodeling their kitchen and they installed track lighting. My friend’s daughter asked what track lighting was, to which her friend, without missing a beat, told her, “You know, those lights that you install on the ceiling and they follow you around the kitchen.” The girls who were listening to this exchange never said a word. The daughter came home all excited about track lighting. She knew her mother would just love a light that followed her around the kitchen because her mother was always complaining about not having enough light to prepare food. Her mother could barely curtail her laughter. But, she did so long enough to ask her daughter how she thought the light knew where the person it was following was. The lightbulb went off for the daughter and they both had a very good laugh over the joke.
Now, if you are not a very perceptive person, you would believe this story was about a young girl who had a practical joke played on her and you may be wondering why I believe that the brunette mother would be the blonde in this case. Well, let’s just say that anyone who would call up all her friends to relate a story like this is really the blonde one. I’d never admit it if my daughter fell for a line like this!
Now, back to my laborious Labor Day. And I promise that tomorrow I will keep things to myself!
Hmmmmm, somehow, I missed that memo. Today has been a day to play ‘catch-up’ on a lot of housekeeping that has been let go in the past few weeks. I haven’t gotten a whole lot done, although I have caught up on my laundry. I don’t have to wash out a pair of undies tonight before I go to bed, if you catch my drift.
I guess my friends got the memo though, because I’ve heard from quite few of them today! That’s why not much cleaning has been done . . .
My friend with the stuck burned beans happily reported that the odor is out of her house and she was able to get the burned beans out of her pot without using Old Man, Sr.’s recipe for disaster (please read yesterday’s blog).
Do any of you have friends who have dark brown hair, but do really blonde things? I know a few of these type of people (and they are not all women) and one of them called me today. Normally, this woman is very reasonable, intelligent and has a lot of common sense. But, the fact that she called me today laughing hysterically about something her daughter did, made me put her in the brunette-acting-like-a-blonde category. I mean, I don’t even know her very well and she’s telling me something silly about her daughter! Who would talk about their own family’s foibles in public? Tell me, who? I certainly wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t pass these stories on for any amount of money. I mean, when a 14 year old does something so silly and so blonde, it’s better to just let it rest. She will never live it down anyway, so why stir the pot? Dear reader, you be the judge.
My friend is remodeling her house, tearing things out, putting new things in, painting, sanding floors. It’s a huge project. Her daughter, who is fourteen, was at school, telling her friends about all the commotion at home, describing to the inth degree every detail. She was describing the lighting fixtures that were to go into the kitchen when one of her friends interrupted with what she thought was a useful piece of information. Her parents had just finished remodeling their kitchen and they installed track lighting. My friend’s daughter asked what track lighting was, to which her friend, without missing a beat, told her, “You know, those lights that you install on the ceiling and they follow you around the kitchen.” The girls who were listening to this exchange never said a word. The daughter came home all excited about track lighting. She knew her mother would just love a light that followed her around the kitchen because her mother was always complaining about not having enough light to prepare food. Her mother could barely curtail her laughter. But, she did so long enough to ask her daughter how she thought the light knew where the person it was following was. The lightbulb went off for the daughter and they both had a very good laugh over the joke.
Now, if you are not a very perceptive person, you would believe this story was about a young girl who had a practical joke played on her and you may be wondering why I believe that the brunette mother would be the blonde in this case. Well, let’s just say that anyone who would call up all her friends to relate a story like this is really the blonde one. I’d never admit it if my daughter fell for a line like this!
Now, back to my laborious Labor Day. And I promise that tomorrow I will keep things to myself!
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