My Skirt Addiction

I think I need to start a support group for compulsive skirt buyers. I could call it ISBA- Impulsive Skirt Buyers Anonymous. Yes, I have a problem- there are very few skirts I don't like, or for that matter, don't have. I don't do mini or prairie, but beyond that I love them all. As a teacher I had the opportunity to wear them regularly, but never did. I think in recent years I have become more of a collector rather than wearer of said skirts. The disease, however, has abated little. Thankfully, I will be starting law school in August, and in an effort to look more the part, I plan to begin faithfully wearing all of the pieces from my collection. I shouldn't have to do any laundry for at least a month- pathetic, I know!

A Shameless Promotion of SLC's Farmer's Market

I bought a sprig of rosemary stuck in a terra cotta pot for $3.00 today. These are the kind of crazy, impulsive purchases I make when surrounded by beautiful produce I will never actually use, because let's face it... I can't cook! I wanted to buy this bunch of huge red radishes, some were the size of my fist, and they were bundled together by their green and purple leaves. There was only one thing stopping me; I hate radishes. If you are someone who is daunted by sensory overload the market may not be the place for you. Dogs of all shapes and sizes are barking their greetings to one another as their owners drift from stall to stall making seemingly impulsive purchases similar to my rosemary "stick-in-a-pot." One man bought a vat, yes, a vat, of fresh honey. What does one do with a vat of honey?

There are also all kinds of craft and jewelry booths manned by eccentric and ecclectic people. One tent was an explosion of tye-dye, and not the good kind- more like the garish hues of the Grateful Dead. The man even carried tie-dyed underwear! I fully intend to go back as soon as possible, especially since the houseplant I bought, it's called a Wandering Jew, will probably die because of my decidedly black thumb. Anyone wanting to go let me know. It is every Saturday during the summer and it opens at 8:00 AM- good to beat the heat.

I'm going to try not to blow myself up.

It's mid June and that means it's bunker time. People have difficulty conceptualizing what it is I do exactly unless they have done it themselves. Most of the time they think I'm hanging out selling fireworks at a stand in the Smith's parking lot. That's what I thought I was going to be doing when I started six years ago. Man, was I surprised. I actually pack large firework explosives that are trucked to firework shows all over the country. These are not sparkles and bottle rockets. Today I packed a "bomb" that was 16 inches in diameter- I couldn't get my arms around it, let alone lift it! Occasionally, I also get to drive 16-20 foot Ryder trucks from Downtown to Fairfield. That's about 1 hour of the most terrifying driving I've ever experienced. I'm sure I have scared others around me as well. Keep in mind, my mode of transportation is a Mini Cooper. My first summer working, the owner told me that if an accident were to occur we would meet at the cemetery. I didn't realize that there is an actual cemetery down the street from the bunk! Every summer is an adventure.