Power Washers and Murphy's Law

Murphy's Law: If anything can go wrong, it will.


The saga of Spring Cleaning 2009 drew to a squeaky clean close at our dwelling on Thoroughbred Run this past Saturday. Oh, there may be an item or two that needs a little touch-up, but for all intents and purposes, it's over. But, Saturday saw a finale of near epic proportions.

I almost felt guilty when I perused the remaining items on the list. My name was pencilled in alongside "Power Wash the Garage Floor and the Deck" --- fun stuff for a guy. My Darlin' Dar was faced with "Clean and Organize All Kitchen and Bathroom Cupboards; Clean and Organize All Closets Including Switching Winter for Summer Clothing" ---akin to Waterboarding in my opinion.

The Weatherman had predicted a fine day for my tasks; mostly sunny, with a gentle breeze, and rain not due until 7:00 PM. At 9:00 AM, he was on the money except for the gentle breeze part. It was downright windy, and as they say, "It's an ill wind that blows no good." This was an ill wind.

I've lived in Michgan over 60 years, and I'm wondering just how much longer I'm going to have to live before I get it through my head that you have to be naive to the point of idiocy to be a Weatherman in Michigan. Worse yet, you have to be an idiot to the point of lunacy to believe their predictions. Someone told me, many years ago, that Mother Nature's maiden name was Murphy. Amen to that. What I never suspected was that Murphy also invented Power Washers.

Power Washers, sans Murphy, are wonderful things, and it's not the Power Washer per se that is the problem. It's more of a situational thing. As you've suspected, I will elaborate.

When Murphy invented the Power Washer, he instilled in it a certain number of absolutes, i.e. something that does not depend on anything else and is beyond human control.

1.) The fuel tank cannot contain enough fuel to complete the task, regardless of the size of the task.

1a.) You cannot run out of fuel until you are less than 20 minutes from completion.

1b.) You will not have a ready supply available.

a.) You will have refused the offer of a gas can full of fuel. Your task isn't that large.
b.) You will not own a gas can, until now.

Corollary: It is impossible to refuel a power washer without becoming paranoid about the possibility of the hot engine causing an explosion of the gas fumes. Further, it is also impossible to refuel a power washer without becoming paranoid about the engine oil level. You WILL attempt to check the oil. You will NOT have the Operator's Manual available, and there will NOT be a discernible "Full" mark on the dip stick. Therefore, it will always appear that the engine oil requires topping off. Even further, Murphy dictated that the fill tube for the engine oil be placed at such an angle and in such an inaccesible spot so to render adding engine oil virtually impossible without a funnel with a flexible tube. Commercially available funnels with flex tubes are too large to insert into the fill tube. Brilliant !

2.) The task will always require more time than anticipated.

2a.) You will assume that the power washer will remove oil stains from garage floors, and will persist until you remove expensively applied paint from around the still present oil spot.

2b.) You will make just enough passes on a dirty place on your deck until the original color shows through, necessitating the same amount of effort on the entire deck, including rails and posts. This will increase the time required a minimum of ten-fold.

3.) When power washing a raised deck, the power washer cannot be placed in a position which is convenient for shut-down in the event of rainfall. It must be positioned such that it requires re-entering the home, soggy wet, running through the raindrops, and shutting down the power washer.

3a.) It WILL rain. Mother Nature is, after all, a Murphy.

3b.) Shutting down the power washer will make the rain stop within 5 minutes, maximum.

3c.) You will be lured back to the deck, and 3a.) and 3b.) will reoccur.

3d.) You will find a slicker and defy the rain.

3e.) Donning a slicker will not stop the rain, but it will cause nearby Lightning and Thunder to begin. Holding a long metal power washing wand is a health hazard under these conditions. (See 3b.) It works for Lightning too.)

4.) Mother Nature will NOT allow you to become exasperated to the point of quitting the task at hand. She will tire of the game an instant before you do.

4a.) The rain will stop.

4b.) You will have approximately 10 square feet of deck to complete.

4c.) You will run out of fuel. (See 1b.)

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr (Michguy)

But It Ain't Dirty. It's Spring, Clean It.

Ode To Spring In Brooklyn
(The Brooklyn National Anthem) -- D. Lehr's version

Spring is sprung, Da grass is riz,
I wonder where da flowers is.

I see da boids, Dey's on da wing,
And dat's anudder sign a spring,

Boids on da wing? Now dats absoid,
I t'ought da wing was on da boid.

Yes ! Spring has come to Michigan too, but it's a bit early to get real excited. I've shoveled many a sidewalk full of Michigan Springtime.

Still, it's hard not to be a little excited that a pretty tough Winter will soon be just a memory. Baseball's Opening Days are upon us. Go Cards and Tigers ! The NCAA's March Madness is over, and a fine one it was. My Buddies (The Guys) and I gathered in Memphis for the South Region's Sweet Sixteen Championships. We've been to a lot of places, but I have to give Memphis the nod as one of the friendliest towns ever. With the games, the Gumbo, the Ribs and the Crawfish, it couldn't get much better. And with Spring comes that time-honored tradition of, Spring Cleaning.


A few days ago, My Darlin' Darlene says to me, she says, "Honey, it's time for Spring Cleaning, and I'm thinking that if we could both do a little, we could save the extra money that we would have to pay our cleaning man. Would you be willing to help?" I was aware that Spring Cleaning is cleaning that goes above and beyond the scope of just plain cleaning, and is an extra cost option, much like Floor Mats or Mud Guards. So, considering the current economic situation (Translation: Dumber than a post and naive as a new-born ), I said," You bet." She said, "Great. I'll make a To-do List and then we'll decide who's responsible for what."


The List was made (Torquemada made a list too. See Spanish Inquisition) and Dar , My Darlin' says, she says, "Honey, would it be okay with you if you were to be responsible for 1) Washing the blinds. 2) Washing the doors, and 3) Washing the baseboards ? I'll handle the rest of the inside stuff, and then you and I can do all of the other stuff together." What do I know ? I said, "Sure. Sounds fine to me. That should be a piece of cake."

There are 246 blind slats of varying lengths in our home. You cannot wash our kitchen, living room and dining room blinds without moving the ladder a minimum of twice each , and climbing up and down and up and down. The total length of those 246 slats is 14, 310 inches or 1,192.5 feet. Since I washed the top and the bottom of every one, that totals 2,385 feet or danged near a half mile. It's true! I counted 'em and I measured 'em and, as my Brother-In-Law Jim says, "If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'." I won't mention how enamored I became with the strings that are such an integral part of blinds.

Now, here's the rub. I had long suspected this, and now I'm convinced. Much like the lyric in the song from "Camelot" that goes, "The rain may never fall till after sundown", dirt is not allowed in our house. Not wanting to wash the blinds with dirty water, I changed the water half way through my task. My wash water was as clear as water from a mountain spring. I took some dirt from the garage floor and put it on the last slat, so I could tell when I was done. Dar's cousin used to clean for us, and would often complain that she could never tell what she had cleaned and what she had not, since it was never dirty. I am here to testify that if cleanliness is, indeed, next to godliness, we are Heaven-bound !

That was yesterday.

Today, my chore was Door Washing. Somehow, it never occurred to me that doors need washing, especially clean ones (see paragraph above). I would have sworn that I washed 97 doors in our house, but I only had to do 92, since My Darlin' Dar did the 2 sets of French Doors and will do the Front Door also. 97 did seem a bit much, so I just did an actual count. Okay, I was off a little. There are 24, so I washed 19. But, they're each about 38 feet tall. Do you have any concept of how much bending and stretching and kneeling and getting back up again it takes to wash a door? Lots. My back and my legs... never mind.

For all of you gentlemen who have never participated in Spring Cleaning, but have left it up to your lady, I'm telling you now, women have got to be the strongest creatures, pound for pound, on earth. Never mind the ants, it's women. If women can do this Spring Cleaning thing year in and year out, without dying before they're 30, somebody needs to call Guinness. It sorta makes me wonder why Lizzie Borden felt she needed an axe. She could have offed the whole neighborhood with her bare hands.

My Darlin' Dar keeps telling me that one of the best things about making a list is the pleasure that you get from crossing off completed tasks. She's right. Crossing off Items 1 & 2 approached ecstasy, but she never told me how fleeting that pleasure can be. Speaking of lists, I've never rassled a gorilla before either, but I'm going to add that to my Bucket List, right near the bottom, just above "Spring Cleaning Again".

Tomorrow I get to do Item 3: Washing the Baseboards. My Darlin' Dar has given me a little more clarification as to what "Washing the Baseboards" entails. I get to move all of the furniture away from the baseboards, far enough so that I can vacuum all of that prohibited dirt that has snuck in under the furniture, then wash the baseboards and put the furniture back. That oughta be a little trip down Lollipop Lane. Five'll get ya Ten that I can get all of the dirt from the vacuum bag into an empty tea bag, assuming that I have enough strength left to empty the tea bag.

I'm standin' on The Gospel, here, if doing our own Spring Cleaning saves us one nickle less than $500.00, I'm gonna start saving for next Spring today. I might even give up a little of my "Soda Pop" money.

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr (Michguy)

There's a Hole In My Bucket !

If you've not seen the Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman movie, "The Bucket List", you really should. I won't attempt a review, but suffice it to say that when you do see it, you will probably start your own list of "Things to do before I kick the bucket". Having the list is great, but the list is just a list. Crossing things off the list is the point of the exercise.

I'll bet you're thinking, "Geez, now I'm going to have to sit here and read Lehr's stupid list." You're right, but it will be at the end of this piece, so you'll have plenty of time to click the big old "X" up in the corner.

I had a great time making my list, but not before I had even more fun with my "Hole In My Bucket List"; things that I have absolutely no intention of ever doing, no matter how long I have before I dent the pail. I encourage you to do the same, and a plus feature is that you can cross everything off your "Hole In The Bucket List" immediately, since anything you're NOT going to do is done the moment you write it down. Sweet !

Lehr's Hole In My Bucket List

1. Climb Rosy Mound.

Rosy Mound is a tall sand dune just south of Grand Haven, Michigan. The Rosy Mound website says that there is "1,000 feet of steps, up and down the dunes: (can be somewhat strenuous)". I'm not doin' that. FYI: I'm not climbin' the Matterhorn or Mount Everest either. I know a lot of people put stuff like that on their Bucket Lists. All I have to say about that is, "Are you crazy ? It's a Bucket List, not a How to Kick the Bucket List.

2. Swim Across anything.

English Channel, Lake Michigan, Kiddie Pool at the Holiday Inn, name your puddle. I ain't swimmin' it. I didn't like swimming when I could do it.

3. Hike the Allegheny Trail (insert "Any" for Allegheny).

If it entails hiking boots, a back-pack and a walking stick, count me out. I walked home from my High School girlfriend's house one night (56 blocks), and I figure I did my time. I'll do the Boardwalk at Grand Haven, or 24 laps at the Fitness Center (2 miles), but "Hike" ? Huh-uh.

4. Bungee Jumping.

If you think I'm even close to being that crazy, we need to discuss our "friendship".

5. Learn Ballroom Dancing and/or watch "Dancing With the Stars".

I will get some heat from my daughter, Samantha, on this. She used to be a Professional Ballroom Dancer and Instructor. I loved watching her but now I look at it this way; I'm not going to dance because when I dance I sweat and when I sweat I stink and when I stink, the girls won't dance with me.

6. Travel to the Middle East, i.e. places where people would rather shoot me than tie their shoes.

My Darlin' Darlene lived in Iran for a few years, leaving just before the Hostages were taken.

If I get curious about anything in the Middle East, I'll ask her about it. If she ever gets a yen to go visit again, I'll even help pay for the Therapist.

7. Fly with my younger brother, Steve.

Steve is a retired Air Force Major. He used to ask me to "go up" with him quite often. I don't even like flying with people who get paid to do it. And, I remember what he was like when he was a kid. He wasn't uncoordinated, but he broke his arm jumping 2 feet off of a porch.

I could keep going on and on and on, but you'd probably say, "Dang ! He just keeps going on and on and on." So, as promised, here's my Bucket List.

Lehr's Bucket List

1. Travel the USA in my (our) own Class A.

Dar and I share this dream. I have a Western Loop all mapped out. It helps that we have a lot of Western relatives to visit with wonderful things to see along the way. How does this sound ? We head straight to Denver, through the Rockies and down to Albuquerque (relative stop). Then west again to Huntington Beach, CA (Dar's brother Bob). Now north to Garberville, CA (my daughter Alicia). Then up to Seattle (relative stop), on to Vancouver and then to Jasper, Alberta. Back down to Yellowstone and home by way of the Black Hills in South Dakota. Should take at least a couple weeks.

2. Take a Hot Air Balloon Ride.

3. Watch the Pelicans feeding off Dauphin Island in Mobile Bay.

That's it. I'm a simple man.

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr (Michguy)

Practice Makes Perfect

A first-time visitor to New York City asked a Cop on the corner, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" The Cop replied, "Practice man, practice." That is, indeed, the way to become proficient at just about anything.

My old buddy, Chas, and I were teammates on our Junior High basketball team. Chas always laughed at my so-called jump shot. He said that I looked like a frog. Unfortunately, I did. I looked like a frog because that's the way I practiced my shot. Though it's hard to believe now, I was very skinny back then, and could barely get the ball to the basket from the free throw line. I had to hold the ball with both hands, way back behind my head, jump with legs akimbo and hurl the danged thing. I got very good at looking like a frog. Unfortunately, since I rarely made a basket, I got very good at missing. If it ever went in the basket, it was because I didn't do it the way I had practiced it.

I have played golf for many years. I have sliced and pushed the ball to the right for as many years as I've played, and I'm much better at slicing and pushing it today than I was twenty years ago. Why, you may ask? I'm firmly convinced that if you practice doing something right, you get better at doing it right, but if you practice doing something wrong, you get just as proficient. I am danged near Pro proficient at doing just about everything wrong that is possible on a golf course. I love the game.

Getting old just comes naturally, but "Being Old" (that's getting old and danged good at it), you guessed it, takes practice. Anybody can just get old and go to "The Home", but "Being Old" and entering "The Home", now that's sweet !

I practice "Being Old" a little bit every day, and if you want to get good at it, so should you. You youngsters, take note. It's never too early to start.

Shuffling:

Shuffling is a major part of old, and all old-timers shuffle. But, shuffling well doesn't just happen on it's own. I like to approach it much like a golfer; develop a routine that promotes "muscle-memory", and once you have the fundamentals down, it's always easy to return to the basics in the event that you have an "off day".

-The Stance: The stance is all important. Your feet should be at shoulder width, toes pointed straight ahead. Bend your knees and keep them bent at all times. Keep your back as straight as possible with your shoulders thrown back and head jutting forward. Your arms should be held tightly at your side with your elbows bent and your forearms parallel to the ground.

-The Action: Maintaining the stance at all times, slide your feet forward, never more than 6-8 inches at a time. Your feet are never to leave the ground, never. I probably don't need to mention this, but a word of caution may be necessary for beginners: do not attempt to move both feet at the same time. Alternate. If you're having difficulty achieving the proper action, try practicing with a pair of old slippers, either the open heeled kind, or a pair with heels that you've stomped down so well that there's no way you can keep them on your feet unless you slide them across the floor. Try to dodder.

-The Appearance: Your appearance is of the utmost importance. You want to look the part as well as live it. If you have dentures or partials etc., try leaving them out occasionally. Keep your jaws tightly together with your lips pressed tightly together as well. Drooling is optional (more on this later).

-Suggestions: I like to do this once or twice daily, just across a room or two. Try to include both carpeted surfaces and hard surfaces. You can never be sure what you'll encounter at "The Home". Once in a while, throw in a little stumble; not a full blown pratfall with face plant, but just a hint of a stumble. Another word of caution: Do NOT practice the stumble move so often that you develop "muscle-memory". Remember, if you practice it to the point of getting good at it, you'll become so proficient at stumbling that you'll be falling all over the place. They get really upset when you do this at "The Home", and they'll probably call your kids and rat you out.

Dentures:

Although modern dental hygiene has eliminated a lot of denture use, they're still a part of the fun of getting old for many folks, and thus, they're definitely part of "Being Old". Forgetting to put your dentures or partials in and/or losing them are the two major activities to focus on in your practice routines. I know, it seems a little ticky-tacky, but you'd be surprised how many oldsters never forget them or lose them. I wouldn't spend a lot of time on this, but it should be part of your practice schedule. Breaking your dentures is something you may wish to consider, but I never recommend practicing it, they're way too expensive. It's your call. One other minor thing, and then we'll leave this part of the discussion. You may want to place your dentures in a soaker glass and leave them in a conspicuous spot now and then. Also, try and do all of the above from time to time when dinner guests are present; not often, but just so you get the feel for it.

Drooling:

Drooling is definitely optional. I'm not much into it, but apparently, there are a lot of folks who are, so I feel moved to include just a passing reference here. I guess my take on it is, if you're going to drool, don't dribble, drool ! As far as technique is concerned, I'll just have to leave that up to you. Sorry.

Nodding Off:

All oldsters nod off, so this is a must do. I find nodding off to be one of the most boring parts of my routine, but it's so necessary. So, whenever you're reading the paper or a book, or watching TV, just let your eyes close slowly, and lower your head for a few moments, every chance you get. Try to incorporate a "head-bob" with every other nod off. I'm not suggesting a whiplash move here, just a "head-bob". If you experience difficulty with the nod off try tuning in to a Bowling match or an Infomercial on TV. For some, watching Golf may help, unless Tiger's playing. Some folks may have a measure of success by having a cocktail before this part of your routine, but a degree of caution should be taken if you choose to imbibe a Martini. One should do the trick, but two may induce a "head-bob" that may result in your needing a neck-brace.

Forgetfulness:

This is my "piece of cake". I haven't really had to practice this much at all. My best suggestion is to encourage your spouse or partner (for the Politically Correct crowd) to make a "Job Jar" filled with slips of paper with various chores written on them. They'll love to be included in helping you in your journey toward "Being Old", as long as they understand that the "Job Jar" is only make-believe. I must caution you, though, this can backfire on you if your spouse/partner is also practicing forgetfulness. Then, whenever you need to work forgetfulness into your routine, take out a job slip, throw it away and go do something you'd rather do. Another great way to exercise forgetting, is to never put your car keys in your pocket, so that every time you and your loved one are going for a drive, you'll have to get back out of the car and go back inside to retrieve your keys. Finally, and I recommend this only if you're having a lot of difficulty with forgetting, whenever you are right at the point of backing out of your garage with your spouse/partner, put the car back in "Park" and say, "I think I'd better use the bathroom before we go." Go back inside, use the bathroom if need be, then go sit down and turn on the TV. Believe me, you'll be surprised at how few times you'll have to do the bathroom thing before you'll either be a very proficient forgetter, or you will never forget another thing in your lifetime.

Losing things:

This one can be fun. As you all know, losing things in your own home is nearly impossible to do. You really have to try to be able to intentionally lose things. It's a lot like hiding your own Easter Eggs, and I don't know how I can help you get better at it. I've practiced it so much that I think I finally have it down. I hid my eyeglasses the other night, and when I awoke the next morning, I couldn't find them. A word of caution here; hiding or losing your eyeglasses is not a good thing to do. They're very hard to find without having your eyeglasses on. But, my Darling Darlene came to my rescue, and found them in the half bath. I've gotten so good at it, that I don't even remember hiding them there. I know one thing though, I sure don't want to lose My Darling Darlene. I thank God every day for her, and I can't imagine getting old or "Being Old" without her.

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr (Michguy)

Back In The Saddle

A very belated Happy New Year ! My last post was December 16, 2008, so it's been nearly a month since Senior Speak has spoken. So, for all of you who have sent E-Mails wondering whether I had finally shut up, firstly, thank you for asking, and secondly, no I haven't.

The Holidays were so incredibly busy, and I had quite a list of Stained Glass pieces that needed doing, and the danged Elves were afraid they'd cut their fingers, and insisted on hazardous duty pay, and on and on ad nauseum. Then, on New Year's Eve, I was bit by the Flu Bug. For those of you who have had it, my sympathies. For those of you who haven't had it, don't get it. It ain't worth doin'.

If all that wasn't enough, my computer decided to entertain a whole host of viruses, and it took the Fix-it shop a whole week plus $150.00 to clear 'em out, and I've spent the last 2 days trying to get things back to the way they were before. I don't deal as well with change as I used to. Go figure. I also had to deal with another Birthday a little before Christmas, to add a little more trauma. So, welcome back to my Vale of Tears.

This first post of 2009 will be a sort of Bits 'n' Pieces post, so if I ramble a little, please bear with me.

A while back, My Darlin' Darlene found a wonderful piece titled "Grandma's Apron", which I'll share with you now.

Grandma's Apron
I don't think our kids know what an apron is. The principal use of

Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, because she only had a few. It was easier to wash aprons than dresses and they used less material, but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven. It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears. From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven. When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids. And, when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms. Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove. Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron. From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls. In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees. When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds. When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner. It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that served so many purposes. Send this to those who would know, and love, the story about Grandma's aprons. Or it can be a good history lesson for those that have no idea how the apron played a part in our lives.

REMEMBER:Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to 'cool'. Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to 'thaw'.They would go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs were on that apron; however, I don't think I ever caught anything from an apron.

Boy, does that bring back memories! I hope that every one of you has at least one memory of a Grandma's Apron. I am so fortunate that I had two "Aproned Grandma's", along with my own mother and my Aunt Lola who were apron devotees. My family was, at best, somewhat "countrified". I recall helping both of my Grandmas carry in kindling for their wood cookstoves, although I didn't have the advantage of an apron, which they surely did.

We spent many summer vacations "down home" in Ellsinore, a tiny (today's population: 360) village in the Ozark foothills of Southern Missouri. It was much smaller back then, and we loved it. Other than the two County Roads that intersected near the Greyhound Bus Stop, all the streets were hard packed red dirt. There was a creek across the road from Grandma's house, and my brother, my cousin Jurdy Leach (a red-haired, freckled replica of Huckleberry Finn) and I spent hours catching crawdads and chasing snakes after Daily Vacation Bible School. Then, up the creek bank to a huge Mulberry tree which we climbed, lounged in the shade and ate our fill and then some. On some weekend nights, a huge white tarp was fastened to the side of the only brick building in town, to serve as a movie screen, and the townfolk would gather to watch; not so much Drive-In as Stand-In movies. Ozark people are easily amused.

It wasn't much different when we returned to our home, about 5 miles north of Reed City, Michigan, although we did have electricity and a natural gas space heater. Plumbing was something for city folks. My earliest recollection of indoor plumbing was when we finally moved to town on Church Street in Reed City. I was 10 years old, and thought I was finally "livin' in tall cotton", as my Dad called it, though, for the life of me, I have no idea what "livin' in tall cotton" actually refers to. Obviously, you can take a boy out of the Ozarks, but you just can't take the Ozarks out of the boy. Southerners do have a penchant for colorful language and expressions.

My Dad would call a hard rain a "Frog Strangler". One time, while playing catch, he threw me a high, hard one. When I flinched and ducked, he laughed and said that I was "blinkin' like a hog in a hailstorm". My Uncle John Lehr was a master of colorful expression. When I was around 4 or 5, and had experienced a bit of a growth spurt, he remarked to my Dad that I was "danged near big enough to turn over gravel", a reference to my supposed urinary prowess.

As I said earlier, I may ramble a bit, and it appears that my mind is stuck in the Ozark backwoods. I'm enjoying it, but I fear that it may be asking a lot of my readers to continue down this particular path, so I'll save some for another time.

Now, if I could just find some old-fashioned flour sacks, and a pattern for those great old aprons. And if I knew how to sew, and...

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr ( Michguy)