Barbara J. Hamby

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A Sunny Monday

I spent the morning doing some shopping, mostly for groceries, light bulbs, etc. In Fred Meyer, I looked at clothing. There were some sales but all the items were made in low-cost labor countries. The prices didn’t reflect those savings as far as I could tell. Nothing tempted me enough to indulge.

I came home and looked through clothing catalogs. It appeared that the prices for garments made in the U.S. were very little higher than for “imported” items. Because I worked for most of my life, I tend to support causes that create more jobs for U.S. workers. I still refuse to check out my own groceries. All my cars until the latest one were American made. My children chose the Honda Civic for me and I do admit it’s a great car.

When I lived in Vancouver, I patronized a gas station where an attendant filled my tank. Part of the reason is apparent above, part was that I never aspired to be a service station attendant and resented having to figure out how to use various types of pumps. Living in Oregon, I’m spared that chore.

This afternoon I worked on memoir stories, mostly editing to strive for ways to hang them together, not necessarily chronologically, but at least logically. I also added some text to the current story about my second marriage.

My afternoon ended with a swim. Like the songwriter, sunshine always makes me happy