Dirty Women

pig in slopI just get dirty. I don’t mean my shoes have little smudges. I look like I fell in the garbage every day. I don’t understand it. When I worked, I dressed and left the house just like everyone else. By the time I got to work, I had stepped in something, spilled coffee on myself, or rubbed up against something and gotten a spot on my clothes. As the day went on, I was sure to end up with ink spots on my hands and/or clothes and have a few spots. I sponged the worst off, but still got home a mess.
I wear my oldest clothes in the yard and make no effort to stay clean. After a few hours of digging, hauling, moving rocks, and planting, I look like I have been rolling in the mud. That doesn’t bother me in the least. When I am done working, I just drop the clothes in the washer, and get straight in the shower.
My mother and two of my sisters stay crisp and clean. Mother can wear white and work all day and look like she’s dressed for a garden party. My other sister is like me. She looks like she works on a garbage truck. What in the world do people do who stay clean? Is it magic?

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Flowers!

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I am one happy mama.  My kids both gave me gift cards for flowers for Mother’s Day.  I loaded up today. All the crazy old ladies pushing carts around in the garden department were jealous of me.  I will be knee deep in dirt tomorrow and happy as a dead pig in the sunshine.  Now I wish I’d had a few more kids.   I might hock something and go back to get some more stuff. Thanks, kids.

The Trouble With Syrup

imageI didn’t like having syrup for breakfast on school mornings when I was a little kid since I was was lazy about washing up afterwards.  In class, my papers stuck to me all morning till I went out at recess.  Then I usually romped around and came back in with dirt sticking to the syrupy patches.  Either way, I lost.