Saturday, November 21, 2009

Marriage 201, Lecture 450: In Japan, we pee for accuracy

SH is all mad because he wasn't looking at when I made the wrong turn when we arrived in Madison.

Me: But you were done with your web conference and you were looking at your email about wine stuff and people asking you for money and woot captured the essence of the moment, did it not?

SH: Yes, but the facts were not correct.

Me: You are welcome to write a guest post or to get your own blog at any time.

We had breakfast at the Marigold Cafe near the Capitol. The woman next to us used a handi-wipe to clean her hands before she drank her coffee. Fifteen minutes later, when her food arrived, she cleaned her hands again. I didn't notice if she used a fresh handi-wipe. I do know that she did not dig in the dirt or change a diaper or process raw poultry or do anything that the rest of us would consider nasty disgusting handwashing needing.

We went to the Wisconsin Historical Society Museum this afternoon. I saw this alligator purse and guess what? It looks like my purse except my purse doesn't have little alligator paws on it. Alas. Probably because my purse is cow made to look like alligator. I held my purse on my thigh and leaned way back to take the photo because of course I didn't think of this until an hour after I had seen the alligator purse and we were on the other floor looking at Wisconsin manufactures. SH was busy drooling over the Nash Rambler (made in Kenosha), so I ran back upstairs to take the picture and it was not so easy to do by myself. The purse was right by the oldest piece of toast in Wisconsin. Yeah, you had to be there.

Oh you farm kids know what this is.

Yesterday, at the Veterans Museum, we saw that so many Ole Olsons had enlisted in the Civil War from Wisconsin that they had to give them numbers. I think there is an Ole Olson in my ancestry. I know there are Oles and I know there are Olsons.

All the dairies used to have their own bottles.


Anonymous Mother said...

Yes, I know what that piece of equipment is; I even know how to use it--sort of.

I remember reading about that oldest piece of toast, but refresh my memory.

Your Great-Great-Grandfather was Ole Olsen--until he jumped ship in Montreal and changed his name to Johnson. I guess he just didn't like having to share his name with so many other people. :~)

class-factotum said...

Mom, here's the story about the toast:

We'll have to go to the museum the next time you're here.

Melissa said...

So SH *does* read your blog!

vbspurs said...

LOL. A vintage croc purse WITH FEET next to a mouldy old piece of historic toast. I LOVE IT, class-factotum!!