I don't get colds often, but felt one coming on last Thursday. It hasn't been terrible, but produced enough sneezing and coughing to cause me to miss a men's prayer breakfast Saturday morning, church this morning, and my granddaughters' dance recital (which included veteran dancer Jennifer and son Daniel's stage debut as Mr. and Mrs. Darling in Peter Pan) this afternoon. So I caught up on the ironing:
Fortunately, the gold metal ice hockey match between Canada and the U.S.A. was on. Our guys lost a nail-biter in overtime. I'm not a great ice hockey fan (though Miracle remains my all-time favorite movie), but had to watch this one. U.S.A. had already beaten Canada in the previous rounds, but lost to them this afternoon:
Ah, freshly ironed shirts and pants:
Who doesn't love the warp and woof of Oxford cloth? Probably a lot of younger people. This kind of cloth, and shirts made from them, is worn today, of course, but mostly in suit-and-tie settings. But when I was college-aged, these kinds of shirts were de rigueur for any male college student worth his sartorial salt. Fraternity house closets were full of brands like Gant and Eagle, and dry cleaners did a brisk business in starching and pressing Oxford cloth so shirts would almost stand up on their own. But that was another day. I rarely wear these shirts today (or the suits and ties that befit them), but there is a certain pleasure in handling them and pressing them—one of the few opportunities in life to quickly transform something that is a mess into something orderly and useful. Freshly washed and ironed, and lightly starched, shirts make me think of Paul's words about the being-prepared church of Jesus: "without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish" (Eph 5.27).
Probably this guy, for one—taken from my upstairs office window. Although he did have on a blue cap and coat. He looks a little put out that the U.S.A. lost:
Oh—the other thing you do when you have a cold and can't go anywhere is post completely irrelevant stuff on your blog.
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