I wonder how many Spokane-area house dwellers have fairly presentable front yards and untended jungles for backyards.
Would you call that a mullet lawn?
Not that this would define a person or anything. But it does suggest a certain ambivalence about the whole yardwork thing.
Maybe some people who don’t give a rip about the appearance of their landscaping still feel enough societal pressure to make half an effort in the front yard. You know, to stave off the torches-and-pitchforks crowd enraged by dandelions on their block.
How to perk up the conversation: A post on The Slice blog about who does or doesn’t regard “thongs” as a synonym for “flip-flops” reminded Kevin Dudley of something that happened about 10 years ago, when his younger sister was about 8.
“My dad always referred to flip-flops as thongs (maybe because he grew up in California),” he wrote.
Which is fine, except that much of world has come to think of thongs as something else altogether.
So anyway, it was destined to become a memorable family moment when Dudley’s little sister decided to liven up the conversation at a dinner party by loudly revealing that her dad liked to wear thongs.
Name that patio: North Idaho’s George Case prompts eye-rolling in his family when he refers to the cement slab and picnic table in the backyard as “the veranda.”
It bugs Barbara Garces when people say: “I’m the kind of person who …”
Unexpected Answers Department: I was talking to a guy standing on a sidewalk downtown. I asked him what he was doing. “Loitering,” he said.
Warm-up question: The S-R’s energetic food editor was talking about ice cream. That got me thinking about my attempt 20 to 25 years ago to get Ben & Jerry’s to run with my idea for “Grizzly Beary,” a story I have told before. But here’s the question. If you came up with your own ice cream flavor, what would be in it and what would you call it?
Today’s Slice question: What is your most memorable “last day of school” story?