Flying her granny-panties. Some boomer broad entitled a recent blog post. Like that's some kind of revolutionary statement. Uh, no.

That's just gross - yeah, and just more foul-smelling fuel to a certain sodomite's blog title.  Granny panties? Uh-uh, that self-imposed indignity...not at this address!  A privacy fence stands between the road and my washline - yeah, no dryer...can't afford one right now, is what it is.  These days, what's revolutionary - if not seditious - is long paneled petticoats hanging to dry on that washline.  And that's not all.  Boy, were the hems dirty - was shoveling at a mound of dirt yesterday; barrow-load by load spreading it with a rake over just a ways.  Basically, doing what i can do myself, since calling in a backhoe costs money.  Money targeted on a bolt of white cotton, for new curtains; the old (white cotton) ones, to be taken down, washed, and recycled into a long paneled slip and a petticoat - there should be enough fabric for those layers.  Yep, time for a new set, the old ones to wear when working in the yard.