To get right to the point. Frugal Son GOT A JOB. Not a well-paid job, but a worthy job that will look good for the future and will give him a bit of time to see what he wants to do next.
He is working at a lycee in New Orleans, wonderful because he will use his French AND because post-Katrina, New Orleans has attracted the hippest 20-somethings anywhere. Also, Mr FS and I will be happy to visit him now and again: we saw him for 4 days once he returned from his year working in France.
The DECLUTTER EVENT: he will be living in an old half-double in New Orleans so he can take a lot of the excess OUT OF THE HOUSE. One of my friends remarked--apropos her first chronically unfaithful husband moving out and taking half the furniture: At least the house looks better. Our house will look better because of a happy event.
Anyone who knows a 20-something knows what I'm talking about in this long recession: he's lucky to have a job.
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Monday, July 30, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Olive Oil and Salt Scrub: Dipping My Toes In
Ah, how to return to blogging after a long hiatus? Mr FS and I were in France for almost six weeks, three with Miss Em: perhaps details of our adventures will creep into posts now and again.
Anyone who knows me (either IRL or in the blog) knows I detest wasting things. One of my last activities in France involved a salt and olive oil scrub for my tired feet.
You see, we had a kitchen in several of our abodes, so I bought a liter of olive oil the first week and we schlepped it around in our rental car. We didn't use it up though.
There we were in our airport motel with my olive oil and some salt. I had been in misery over dry skin for a while, owing to time in the South of France (Nimes, Arles, Avignon, to name the most well-known spots). I was planning to leave my olive oil in a prominent position, in case the motel cleaners wanted it (doubtful). Then I remembered the salt scrub: mix oil with salt (or even sugar) and rub on your feet. Then wash it off or you might slip.
This was pure bliss: everyone knows that exfoliation is a good thing, right? Then I did it again in the morning, leaving the bottle of oil in a prominent spot as planned.
By the way, this activity was performed standing on one leg (with one foot in the sink) of a cheap motel. Imagine how luxe it would be sitting on the edge of a bonafide bathtub--of which we had only one in all six weeks.
Try this if you haven't yet. I'm sure everyone has dry skin from the hot summer.
Anyone who knows me (either IRL or in the blog) knows I detest wasting things. One of my last activities in France involved a salt and olive oil scrub for my tired feet.
You see, we had a kitchen in several of our abodes, so I bought a liter of olive oil the first week and we schlepped it around in our rental car. We didn't use it up though.
There we were in our airport motel with my olive oil and some salt. I had been in misery over dry skin for a while, owing to time in the South of France (Nimes, Arles, Avignon, to name the most well-known spots). I was planning to leave my olive oil in a prominent position, in case the motel cleaners wanted it (doubtful). Then I remembered the salt scrub: mix oil with salt (or even sugar) and rub on your feet. Then wash it off or you might slip.
This was pure bliss: everyone knows that exfoliation is a good thing, right? Then I did it again in the morning, leaving the bottle of oil in a prominent spot as planned.
By the way, this activity was performed standing on one leg (with one foot in the sink) of a cheap motel. Imagine how luxe it would be sitting on the edge of a bonafide bathtub--of which we had only one in all six weeks.
Try this if you haven't yet. I'm sure everyone has dry skin from the hot summer.
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