Like most of you, I suspect, I love the smell of line-dried clothes, especially the crisp, fresh jeans that come from being hung outside. But there is one drawback. Sometimes I forget the clothes are outside and when I do it rains. Every time. Like last night.
That's my bib on the left. I don't eat without a bib (or an apron) because old men dribble food on the fronts of our shirts. Today, I will have to go without a bib. I'll wear a black shirt, I've decided.