"Mom, What's a House Dress?"

Mama as a Teenage Hottie--Biking in a Dress!

She could have asked me, "What's a house wife?" as far as that goes, both faintly remembered by us early Boomers, moving into legend.  Mama and Grandma wore cotton house dresses--and pretty much all day their house dresses were covered with comprehensive aprons with big pockets. 

On Sundays while making breakfast  Mama would wear her apron over her slip, carefully easing on her Sunday dress over her recently styled hair just before she walked out the door, adding her earrings as she walked.  Dad was usually already out in the car.  (On occasion if she was flustered getting everyone around we'd have to grab her and not let her go out to the car in her apron and slip.)   If Mom wasn't singing in the choir, which was rare, she would wear a scrap of a velvet or feather hat with a little veil.  And talk about shoes!  My mother to this day has a pair of shoes for every outfit.

Mama has had her hair done every week of her life since she started earning her own money, still does, cute LOL that she is.  She never went to a stylist--it was and remains The Beauty Operator at The Beauty Shop, words I hear coming out of my own mouth from time to time, to derision from my daughters.  And The Beauty Operator was always a woman, the same one for 30 years in Pittsburgh.  On visits I was sometimes persuaded by my mother to go with her, and I was disconcerted by exactly how much The Beauty Operator knew about the ups and downs of my life.

Me, I'm happy with blue jeans and t-shirts most of the week.  This summer when I visited my brother Chuck, the tie-dye artist, he gave me a new one, rose-color with a snowflake--in a smaller size!  Yea, Atkins is working!   I do dress up a bit for church in my remaining professional clothes. Since this choir doesn't wear robes, I try to look presentable on Sunday morning, not too much cleavage.  If I wore bluejeans and tie-dye to church, no one would say anything, especially at the early service, but I would hear the old ladies thinking their opinions, which would be exactly like my mother's. 

Working Girl

Sadie and I walked to church last night for choir practice. She's getting the hang of sitting before we cross streets. She transforms when she puts on her working halter and backpack.  She becomes a working dog. 



George and Phil



Phil's dog George was not working last night--he works all day with Phil.  George was wandering and lolling and being petted and greeted.  Sadie and George met, but as Sadie was working they didn't socialize much.