Eye Doctor and Errands Style for a Wednesday in July. . .

As above. . .

So below. Not seen is my usual dark brown braided leather belt, which I always wear with this particular pair of shoes.

Out and about yesterday morning, still wearing my light blue oxford cloth surgical masks, for a quick check-in with Dr. L., followed by a few errands. And all within about five minutes of home.

As usual, I was the only male, of any age, in the clinic (or a few big box retail establishments visited on the way home) wearing more than a t-shirt and some king of grubby shoes-shorts combination. Sigh.

It boggle the mind how so many can contemplate leaving the house dressed as though they have dumped the overloaded dirty laundry basket on the floor and pulled out the least grubby items to drag onto their bodies before shambling through the door and schlepping themselves to the car for a five-minute drive up the street.

More often than not, there are visible stains of one kind or another on their attire. It's hard not to notice these sorts of details from 10 or 12 feet away. And it is rampant judging by the number of people out and about in such garments.

Don't people think any better of themselves? You can't help but wonder. But God forbid you should say anything. It's an interesting contrast to a country like Mexico, where even the poor make more effort to look presentable, are better turned out overall, and it is only street drunks propped in doorways of rundown buildings who look as down and out.

Sooner, or later, the pendulum must surely begin to swing the other way. Right? We can only hope.

On a more positive note, my ophthalmologist did greet me with a firm handshake yesterday. Latex gloves were on, which I fully understand and support, but he did not try to bump fists or elbows during this visit, which I simply will not do with anyone. It's just a little too 'bro' for my tastes.

And I enjoy adulthood.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

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Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

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Classic Style

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