Years ago, my girlfriend said she wears her lawn mowing bra when she mows her yard. I laughed and quickly a vision flashed in front of my eyes of what this might look like. Hm, I think I have one too but I had not admitted it to anyone.
It's the old, stretched out, dingy, saggy bra we wash and shove into the back of our underwear drawers. Come on, fess up, you have one too. We only wear it for special occasions. Usually it is those 95-100 degree days in July in Illinois, where the humidity is unbearable. Like right now. I had it on this week when I was weed wacking, and again when I had to crawl into the pond and lift out some big rocks the dogs had knocked loose from the edging. It doesn't matter if it gets fishy pond water on it, or salty sweat.
I always perspire enough to soak it. Then, when you take it off there is a distinct sour smell. I really should throw it away today, but I will need it again tomorrow so I don't. A good washing with a few of the kitchen rugs freshens it up just fine and back in the drawer it goes. This might be the last summer before I retire it to the burn pile. Being a child of the 60's, I can still burn a bra anytime I want to.
All this talk brings me to my other pet pieve. Do you call it mowing the yard, cutting the grass, mowing the lawn, or just what do you call it?
To me, mowing the yard sounds more like work. Cutting the lawn is a little too dainty for my taste.
No comments:
Post a Comment