Introduction (Введение)
Success! My success! I bought new sweatshirts! (Yспех! Мой успех! Купила новые толстовки!) No, the translation is NOT “hoodies!” It is “sweatshirts!” Okay, I'll stay with English from now on.
My 11/20/2021 and 12/11/2021 articles include my comments, on my five failed searches for new sweatshirts.
Success!
Saturday, 12/18/2021, was a rainy summer day, in winter. I removed my outer layer, to be more comfortable in my T-shirt.
At 11:00 AM, my good friend and barber, who owns Tony's Best Clips, gave me another “best clip.” Thanks, Tony! I like your website! I wrote my “best review,” on 12/23/2021!
Afterward, my '06 Frontier and I went to the parking lot area of “Wally World,” in the Halls area of north Knox County, Tennessee. First, I checked Burkes Outlet then Hibbett Sports – in my effort to avoid “Wally World.” I had no luck. Those were my sixth and seventh failed attempts to buy new sweatshirts.
Finally, bravely, I entered “Wally World.” My “bionic” right foot was holding up well enough. After several minutes of searching, I found my six new sweatshirts!
The above image – which I had taken that day, with my trusty Samsung very wise phone – is proof! My two pair of green and two pair of blue old sweatshirts are to the left. They are about 20 years or so old. They had a few small holes. One green sweatshirt still has a paint spot, which never came off. I'd placed it there, in 2003, when I was painting at our house, which was under construction at the time.
My six pair (two black, two blue, and two dark gray) are to the right. I was wearing the dark gray, as I had typed this line! The image above the sweatshirts is my “Wally World” receipt and the stickers from my six new sweatshirts!
At least three of my old sweatshirts were made in the former USA. My six new sweatshirts were made in Honduras, by a company called Athletic. I like my new sweatshirts. I wish that I hadn't needed to take so much time and effort, to find them. My eighth search was the charm!
My four old sweatshirts are now resting, in a location of honor, in my closet. (The master's bedroom has two closets – a smaller one for me and a larger one for Mrs. Appalachian Irishman.) I hear the jokes forming in your minds! Don't tempt me! I have an answer to your “who's the master” jokes!
Conclusion
While in line at one of the checkout locations, I had been behind a man, a little older and taller than me, who looked very fit. He allowed me to checkout before him, since he had a buggy full of stuff, while I was holding six sweatshirts in my arm. We talked. Neither he nor I have had our “Corony Myopia” shots. Neither of us plan to get them. That's our choice. Leave us alone! His job requires him to take the “Corony Myopia” shot or face forced retirement, in a few days or weeks. I'd like to see my job try that on me! That man and I shook hands. We agreed: either the Good Lord needs to return soon or this once great nation needs to get back to its godly roots. We agreed: the latter will not happen, most likely. We will see.
By the way, the man who checked me out was an older and shorter man. I think that he enjoyed the comments, of the taller and older man and me.
At least I have new sweatshirts! If they last 20 years, I will need new sweatshirts at about age 81 or so. Come soon, dear Lord! Come soon! I do not want to buy new sweatshirts again!
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