The Slice: Some yard work excuses just plain rakish
Here’s Jim Erdman’s perspective on raking leaves.
“I have blurred vision, I just can’t see doing it.”
And Allen Schweim won’t be able to because, well, he can tell it.
“The chipper ate my rake.”
Online dating: Several readers offered thumbs-up testimonials and a few told disaster stories.
“It worked for my daughter and son-in-law,” wrote Patsy Wood. “Hal said he knew they were meant for each other when Shannon drove up in her Honda Accord while he was waiting for her, in his Honda Accord.”
Sweaters vs. sweatshirts: One menopausal Slice reader said she prefers sweaters because she finds them easier to take off.
Personalizing your luggage: Readers told about using high-visibility tape, straps, tags, stickers, ribbons and yarn. And sometimes the suitcase itself is easy to spot. “My luggage is a bright purple, it screams at you ‘I AM HERE,’ ” wrote Gisela Reynolds.
Jeff Pratt’s bag sports a bright red tag that says “You’ve got enough baggage!”
Touch football survey: When Mike O’Neal was an adolescent living about 25 miles west of Cleveland, they didn’t play coed touch football. They played tackle. The goal, he recalled, “Was to make as much physical contact with the girl as possible without getting arrested.”
Bobbing for apples: “The trick to winning is to get your apple against the side or bottom of the tub so you can bite into it without it getting away,” wrote Laurie Newell. “I always went straight for the bottom to save time. I figured this out about fifth or sixth grade.”
You just have to be willing to get your whole head wet, she said.
Steven Stuart remembers bobbing for apples in a vat of white wine while in Germany.
Avert your eyes: “Today after shopping I saw a man in sweatpants bending over and putting his groceries into the back of his car,” wrote Nancy McKay. “He had way more skin showing than the baristas.”
Today’s Slice question: When do you buy pumpkins?
Write The Slice at P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210; call (509) 459-5470; email email@example.com. Janet Launhardt remembers the # symbol from before it was part of a hashtag.