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Wandering thoughts

The hubby can’t understand how my mind works, poor thing.

Here’s an example from this morning’s drive home from dropping off the girlchild:

I have to figure out if we’re ordering uniforms from the place the school sent a flyer from. How many uniforms does she need? All but three of her shirts are almost too small. We have to buy the red one with the embroidered logo. I wonder if next year they’ll make it mandatory for all shirts to have the embroidered logo? Why not make uniforms mandatory for all public schools? People would fuss. In Samoa, school children wear uniforms and it isn’t a big deal. Families wear uniforms. Especially to funerals. That’s because family is everything in Samoa. It’s clan/tribal, with the oldest son inheriting all. I wonder if there’s a story idea in that. Anyhow, the uniforms are lava-lavas. Everyone wears lava-lavas because it is polite. Even over shorts. Women wear theirs long, men wear theirs short. Like the sarongs in Fiji. I remember the business suits I saw in Fiji, with the upper half looking like western business suits and the bottom a matching sarong. And sandals. I wonder if there’s a story…no, wait. Lois McMaster Bujold had the Betan sarong for Miles. Shoot.

So there we have it. The girlchild’s growing out of her school clothes and I want to go home and read Bujold. Makes perfect sense to me.

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