Years ago,
..................
before I knew I hated sewing,
(hate in every stitch! my friend knows about this, eh, B?)
I attempted to make corduroy pants.
Half way through I could see
that something was terribly wrong,
but what?
Hmm...
Oh.
I'd cut against the nap.
One pant leg up,
one down.
If you make this mistake
you will end up with clown pants.
Never to be worn,
those pants were tossed out!
........
I avoid sun to avoid cancerous skin.
That is my sun philosophy.
I tan easily.
I tanned as a child.
Even as an adult.
But no longer.
Excisions do that to a person.
And yet:
With haste,
still in my morning attire,
I rush around the garden
w/o sunscreen,
usually in my pajamas,
sometimes sweats 'n t-shirt.
Dilemma:
Covered legs,
vs. uncovered arms
equals
tanned arms but
untanned legs.
A horse of a different color on the same body.
So today, I slather sunscreen.
Sunscreen with zinc oxide,
all over my face and arms,
thickly!
Even clownishly.
No sunscreen on my legs, though.
I tan my legs...
...so as to match.
Flimsy excuse for unhealthy sunning.
Dangerous activity that courts disaster.
But, c'mon!
Please understand:
I need my legs to match myself,
...don't I?
No more clowning around.
...........................
No comments:
Post a Comment