A T-shirt Story

I.  Love.  T-shirts.  (ob-vious-ly)

But when I look at my stack of shirts, and I think back to the conversation Handsome and I had all those years ago, I realize, I have enough.  I do.  Easily enough to wear one every day for 2 weeks and not repeat.  I tell myself that this is okay, since they cost $0.89 at the Salvation Army on Wednesdays.  It's probably not, but that's what I tell myself.

However, when I saw this beauty two weeks ago at the SA, and it had the "sale tag color of the day" I just couldn't resist.  I loved the color of the shirt, plus the weight of it is pretty heavy while remaining soft (I know I sound like a connoisseur.  I am.), and I up and bought it.

But then I saw this idea, which is super cute.

And also this one

And then the real ringer was this one, since it would cover the words in front

And so that's what I did.  Minus the flowers, because, well, you'll see.  It's already fru-fru enough without adding flowers.

Flummer - When Fall & Summer Collide

Flummer.

Yes, I made it up.  And I know, you're not "technically" allowed to start using made-up words in public until you "officially" have a PhD, but I've put in a lot of time, and I'd like to just try this one out for a while.  Don't worry, I won't try and publish it or anything.

It's Flummer, here in SC.  Since this word is new territory for... well, everyone except me, I'll expand a bit upon it.  Help you understand exactly what it means and how to recognize it.

It might be Flummer when it's dark in the morning (yes, this is morning, as in "straight on 'til morning," morning),
but still reaches highs of 90+ in the afternoon

It might be Flummer when both Chili and Watermelon seem seasonally appropriate.

Now that I've cleared that up, let me tell you that the creation of this word has eased my mind quite a bit.  Before, I was worried about not being content, as it was still summer and felt like fall (or fall and felt like summer, I couldn't really tell) and I didn't know which to want.  Now, I can be content that it is Flummer.  In Flummer, people do things, like take hikes and watch football, and yet still go swimming in the out-of-doors and drink lemonade when the sun beats to hot.  Flummer is a time for long-sleeved t-shirts and shorts.  There.  That last one really clears everything up.  I should have led with that.

Up-cycled Tees (again)

So this time, it wasn't even my idea.  Last time, I wanted to tell you all about what to do with T-shirts that you had lying around.  And so I harped on and on about T-shirt quilts and how amazing they are and how easy to make and how much I love them and... wait, where was I going with this?

Oh, right, not my fault.  It's actually my SIL's fault.  I was just wandering through Sally Anne's, looking at things and touching stuff, reading off interesting shirts while talking on the phone like a total jerk-face.  Really, I felt bad about it.  Clearly not bad enough to alter my behavior, but enough to try and talk quietly, when I remembered.

There was one shirt that was all teal, and on the front it just said "Chinese Delivers".  I wanted it.  But I didn't feel moved to pay $1.79 for it.  And then, I found one that my SIL would like, so I read it to her.  One thing led to another, I walked out a few bucks lighter, and now we've got a new project for T-shirts.  That's just how things go sometimes.

So I've gotten this shirt to my place, and now all I'm concerned with is being careful not to rip it's arms off at the seams.  Wait, I mean, I'm interested in conversation and totally not just it's chest area... wait... Really, I'm just interested in her future... as an ECO-TOTE!! *whatwhat!?!*

Whip it Good

Please do not ever challenge me to a towel-whipping contest.  There are only two outcomes, and neither of them are pretty.  (1) I make a pitiful attempt at waving my towel, and twisting it, and flinging it through the air, and end up with a bunch of welts.  (2) I put my towel down after the first welt I receive, get a broom, and hit you with it.

Because, you see, I can't whip a towel.  Clearly not going to public school for all of my elementary years left some gaps in my education.

I did 'whip it' one, once.  I remember most of the day clearly, although I'm a little hazy on the exact location.  I mean, it was at summer camp (the one I wrote about here), and I'm pretty sure it was near the pool.  The poor guy on the receiving end was a kid (okay, teenager) who liked to terrorize younger girls.  All I can say in my defense is that the guy started it, and I have no aim.  The one time, the only time, that I actually got a good 'crack!' from the end of my towel, well, I, um... well, lets just say I hit him in his most vulnerable spot.  Whoops!

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I must also confess that the above story has nothing to do with what I wanted to tell you about to day.  Me!  Wandering in conversation.  Imagine that!

Here's what I wanted to tell you: I made my own washcloths.

And here's what I wanted to know: Did I just cross a line?  Is that too far?