Not Laboring on Labor Day

Random Thoughts:

-In the midst of looking for swag to fill up the geocaching kit in the car, I discovered there were 10, that's TEN random tops of popsicles/shirt tags/corners off fruit snacks/etc. that someone has kindly left in with the junk in the junk drawer. Really. How hard is it to walk 2.3 feet to the garbage can with the scissors and snip the tops off over there? Apparently, this ranks up there with putting clothes in the hamper and bringing dishes down stairs.

-In reading Telling Dad's blog this morning, I discovered that we are not the only household in which it is perfectly fine to eat all manner of meals in the bed. See the comment section, please.

-In four years at our small, Brethren, liberal arts college, my husband did not attend classes once on Labor Day. And after I met him, I didn't either.

-Last time we stopped at the cemetery on our way home from visiting my parents, we found these:

Why were they unknown? Where did they come from? How did they end up in this cemetery? And when? Most of the graves around these two date to the 1800's. The kids had lots of questions (well, Meghan did, Ethan had lots of theories to share) and I had no answers.

-Currently wondering why I am sleeping in excess of 9 hours each night, plus a two hour nap if I can catch it, with no illness or newborn children to blame. Reconciling myself with the thought that I am perhaps lazy.

-Today I am glad on Labor Day that I am a somewhat complacent member of my union, instead of my great-great-grandmother Stiles, who was married to a union organizer, and had something like 10 children at home, while he was out sending her postcards from all the towns where he was rallying and organizing the workers into unionizing.

Happy Labor Day.