One of best parts about getting rif’d from corporate life and going to driving a school bus was the dress-code. My wardrobe became jeans and t-shirts, no more phallic neck devices! As long as the shirts weren’t obscene or portrayed vices, I was set. Now I carry the clothes downstairs to the wash, wife says she’s in charge of the washing [NO! red shirts do not go with white slips or socks], and I carry the clean back up and put them away.
Yes Please!! If not writing in cursive, at least learn how to read it. I have collections of letters & postcards from early 1900’s from traveling family members, they contain amazing stories that may be lost forever if the next gen can’t read them.
They paid extra for something that looks like hemp, but ain’t. Gummy worm edibles anyone?