I hope your bacon, lettuce, and tomato festival was a success. I agree completely that there is no more perfect summer flavor. I need to send you a jar of Duke’s mayonnaise, the finest of mayos. My sister-in-law exports it to New Paltz whenever she visits the South. Maybe Bloomingdale’s will start selling it at Christmas, the way they used to sell another local treat, Goo-Goo Clusters.
September 1 is when summer ends for me. The light is all different now, not summery at all, and the morning has a chill to it. I have a fierce urge to buy a three-ring binder. Best of all, it becomes conceivable that one day I might actually get to wear one of my sweaters.
And now, in honor of Labor Day, my annual singing of the International Ladies Garment Workers Union song:
Look for the union label
When you are buying a coat, dress, or blouse.
Remember somewhere, our union’s sewing,
Our wages going to feed the kids.
You know that we all work hard,
But who’s complaining?
Here at the ILG we’re paying our way.
So always look for the union label–
It says we’re able to make it in the U.S.A.!
Sew on, women of the world! You have nothing to fear but artificial fibers!