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There really is no checking out.
Not for whole days. Nor for half days. I do find myself mentally checking out for sets of minutes. At work, particularly. Or I find myself having done so.
Here's an advertising postcard from around 1910 that I like but am not bidding on in its auction:
Here's the back:
Interesting to think what we think of as a good kitchen for cookin' in, how decked out things are just so, the surfaces, the devices, the storage. We seem a little spoiled, when I think about it.
Not to mention having to cook in that hair and outfit.
Okay. Check(-back)-in time.
Must stop fantasizing about sleep.
Here's an advertising postcard from around 1910 that I like but am not bidding on in its auction:
Here's the back:
Interesting to think what we think of as a good kitchen for cookin' in, how decked out things are just so, the surfaces, the devices, the storage. We seem a little spoiled, when I think about it.
Not to mention having to cook in that hair and outfit.
Okay. Check(-back)-in time.
Must stop fantasizing about sleep.
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