Posted tagged ‘clean underwear’

“From the cradle to the coffin underwear comes first.”

November 1, 2015

This morning it sprinkled a bit, and though it has stopped, the clouds remain. Today is chilly and dreary. When I look out my windows, I see more and more dead leaves hanging from the oak trees. A small tree with some red leaves is all I have left of the colors of fall. Hunker down time is nearer and nearer.

Night has begun encroaching. With the change in time, with the end of daylight saving, it will come earlier. When I was a kid, I didn’t understand the whole idea, but I didn’t like it. My afternoon play time was less because the street lights came on earlier. I thought that was a cheat somehow, a parental ploy to get us to bed earlier.

We always had November 1st off from school because it was a holy day of obligation. That was one of the perks of attending a Catholic school. We had to go to mass then the whole day was ours. Today is the holy day and a Sunday. You get to knock off two obligations at the same time.

Clean underwear was always a big thing with mothers. I never understood why because even without the possibility of an accident and eternal embarrassment to my mother I always wore clean underwear. I mean really who’d want to wear dirty underwear? My mother would have been better served warning me to wear underwear without holes. I had a theory that socks with holes and underwear with holes were fine because nobody saw them excluding any accidents of course. I still adhere to that theory but mostly with wearing socks with holes. I turn over the top of the socks so my toes won’t poke through. A few times I tried to darn the socks but instead I got these huge lumps which hurt with shoes on. I went back to folding. When I went to Ghana, I bought enough new underwear for every day so I wouldn’t have to wash any. I have so much now I throw away the ones with holes or loose elastics. My mother would be so proud.

“But mothers lie. It’s in the job description.”

October 27, 2014

My outside clothes are clean and have all their buttons and no holes. The colors match even down to my socks; however, my mother would be embarrassed by my inside clothes. If that accident she warned me about countless times ever happened, the holes in my socks and the torn elastic of my clean, but falling apart, underwear would have her humiliated. She and I were world’s apart in our underwear theory. I believe that what’s hidden is of little importance. She didn’t. I figure no one sees it anyway, and if that accident really happened, I suspect the doctor would be too intent on my injuries to criticize my hole ridden socks and underwear.

My mother was the font of all wisdom. We always believed her. I never swallowed gum. If I had, I’d probably still be digesting it as we were warned the gum stayed in our system for years. I imagined a giant pink ball of bubble gun sitting in the middle of my stomach growing bigger and more menacing. My mother told us our tongues turned black when we lied. I’d look in the mirror and see my regular pink tongue. Only mothers could see the black tongue was the reason. I swallowed that whole story. If she asked me something and I’d lied, I wouldn’t show her my tongue. Little did I know I was implicating myself. I never went outside with wet hair. I didn’t want pneumonia. I never ate watermelon seeds. I didn’t want a garden growing in my stomach. Besides, it would have had to fight for room with the bubble gum ball. I never went blind or even blurry eyed sitting close to the TV.

We never questioned my mother. We believed everything she told us. My entire generation waited an hour after lunch before we went back into the water. My mother had a direct line to the North Pole and Santa’s ear. Fright made us good before Christmas.

I have no idea what works on kids today. Google has put an end to watermelon gardens and giant balls of bubble gum.

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

April 6, 2013

My house was cold when I woke up this morning. I needed socks. Without warm feet, I’m doomed to feel chilly even in slippers. I felt a bit of a nip in the air when I went to get the papers. Gracie was quickly out and quickly back inside. She and the two cats are having their morning naps. After all, they have been up all of three hours.

I wonder who first decided toast was for breakfast. I toast sandwich bread too but mostly I don’t, except for BLT bread which demands to be toasted. I always toast my bread for breakfast so a toaster is a must in my kitchen. Was toast happenstance or a brilliant idea? That’s one of the mysteries of life. I hate crooked pictures. Why go to all the trouble of locating the right spot, finding a nail, hammering it onto the wall and then hanging a picture you totally forget about? Pictures by their very shape need to be straight. I don’t mind an unmade bed. I like a made bed better, but I’m okay if it’s unmade. I think that’s because I don’t go upstairs enough to be bothered by it. Sometimes clothes sit in my dryer for a few days or even a week until I do laundry again. Folding it and then bringing the laundry up two flights is one of my least favorite chores. The laundry rush used to happen when I ran out of clean underwear, but that’s no longer the case. I bought plenty for my trip to Ghana so the laundry can sit in the dryer for a while. I don’t care about wrinkles. No where I go has a sign which says shoes, shorts and no wrinkles. Dirty dishes in the sink drive me crazy. I wash them by hand every day as I don’t have near enough for the dishwasher, and I want my favorite coffee cup every morning. I hate bad grammar being spoken on a TV series. It perpetuates the downfall of the English language. I care, but other people don’t. I get the line,”You understood it, didn’t you? That drives me crazy. If a song is sung off-tune, I can still hear it. Is that enough?

I have to go out today. Gracie and I have a few errands, but I’ll have to wait until later this afternoon. I’d hate to disturb her nap-time.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”

November 12, 2012

Today I am an advocate of brevity. It will be a short post with nothing earth-shaking, witty or thought-provoking. The reason is simple: the day is gorgeous, warm and lovely. When I went to get the papers, I stayed outside for the longest time and struggled to force myself back into the house. I really wanted to get my keys, jump into the car, put the windows down and go wandering; of course, I’d have gotten Miss Grace to be my companion for the trip. She appreciates a nice day and a good ride.

A load of laundry sits in the downstairs hall waiting to go to the cellar to be washed. It will wait a long time. I stripped my bed this morning and haven’t yet made it and won’t before I leave. For some strange reason, I think leaving the mattress bare is the house equivalent of wearing the dirty underwear our mothers always warned us about, but I’ll take the risk.

Tomorrow I have designated errand day. I have a slew of them. I, of course, am assuming that a bunch of errands is called a slew though I wouldn’t be averse to using a murder of errands. The crows won’t mind sharing. I have already showered so all I need do is brush my teeth, get dressed and go.

Enjoy your day. I will most assuredly enjoy mine!

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