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I retired a flannel shirt this past weekend.

At least one person who reads my natterings (if only occasionally) will understand that. I've no idea exactly how long I owned that shirt. Long enough that the comfy flannelness wore thin, very thin. Probably a couple years ago one of the buttons wore through the front. Didn't come un-sewn mind you, just the very front of the shirt it wore through and remained attached to the folded over flap of material that backed the button edge of the shirt. The collar is so frayed it is amazing it is still attached to the body of the shirt.

On Saturday evening I reached for something and heard/felt the left shoulder give away. Later, when getting ready for bed and I looked at it, I saw it wasn't the seam which gave way but the fabric in the sleeve. Worn so thin, no more strength, flannel shirt is flannel-less. So next morning I salvaged all the buttons, then washed the carcass and left it in Studio. Maybe it will become rags. Maybe I will find someone who is interested in some 'alternate' photography and we'll use Shirt as part of the garb. I'd like the latter, finding some more life for an old companion.

And in other news, there is Joy in Hoggetowne this day, as the Leezards triumphed in their struggle to become National Champions.


Jan. 9th, 2009 07:46 pm (UTC)
On the One Hand
I must confess, about 87% of my experience with bras involves getting them off of someone without destroying them, 6% involves helping someone get one on, 4% involves removing them with no regard to preserving them because we were in the OR and it was a trauma victim, and the remaining 3% involves doing the laundry.

On the other hand, I take this as a compliment of sorts. *G*

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