I have several sweaters that I ordered from Ireland; my husband has a like number.  I would buy them off-season when I could get 25-40% off. They were still more costly than a cotton blend sweater on sale from a department store, but the warmth can’t be beat.

They are made from high quality wool which pills; little downy hairs reach up and pill in many spots and in others, those fiber hairs just float on the surface like a fog.  The sweater color looks a couple of shades lighter. And there is nothing for it but to buy a depiller, which is basically a delicate shaver, and slowly and repeatedly go over the surface of the sweater. It’s not like taking a paper towel and wiping up a spill; no, it is more like picking up grains of salt by hand.

It takes time but the effect is gratifying, but it could be tedious. That is why I sitting here watching the history of the Greeks in Alexandria and using a “wax on, wax off” motion on the fuzzy thing on my lap.

I saw that a friend whom I have never meant face-to-face is the owner of a new SUV that is shiny and actually gets good highway mileage.  My car was once shiny, but it seems that I cannot drive a car without a dent in it. And that is one reason I would never lease a car.  I almost think the pressure would be so great if I had a new car, I would have to hit it with a tire iron to relieve the anxiety.

One telling fact about my little incidents is that I have been gifted more than once with an little emergency hammer to break the glass in case I have to get out of car that has somehow wound up under water.

Yes, way back when – or as they say now, in the day, almost everyone had a blog and you could read about disgusting in-laws, and cheating husbands and snooty friends and who knows what all. I came close to knowing a lot of, however, for I let my eyes scan over all the soap opera plots that were being written in real time.

When I named The Leaning Cow, I didn’t need to lean much because I was not yet 60 and the reference was more to those minutes before the leaning cow became a tipped cow. But, I have to admit, it wasn’t so much that as that I simply liked the sound of theleaningcow. Now, I do tend to lean when I get a chance. Years will do that to you. I am also leaning here in a blog woods that has been heavily logged. All these stories that where but a click away are back behind closed doors.

I came here today because the facebook thing is a nice way to see pictures of trips and read inspirational short paragraphs and sayings that used to be featured as framed prints at stores in malls, which have themselves taken one, if not for the team, at least taken one. (It’s so nice to write here for I can let my inner silly self just roam free as far as English composition is concerned.)

I still can’t stand Joe Biden.