unpronoucable

Yesterday, while multi-tasking on housework I managed to inadvertently destroy one of favorite t-shirts. Shorts and t-shirts are wardrobe staples for me and losing a favorite one, like breaking a cherished coffee cup, is cause for a moment of reflection. Bleach misuse has been a past flaw in my arsenal of house cleaners, which is why it's banned from the laundry room. This didn't prevent me from wiping down the counter with some golly-gee-whiz spray designed to kill, if ads are to be believed, MAR germs which are as ubiqutous and costly as sub-prime mortgages, and then dropping the wet towel on top of the t-shirt and leaving it sit for several hours.

The shirt in question, in addition to being heavy-weight cotton and a nice shade of blue, was purchased in support of a language program to teach the dying language of Osage to young tribal members. All I could say when I pulled the clothes was the dryer was HA.KA.ZHE!!!!! There are somewhere between 15-20 speakers of the Osage language alive today, and now there is one less t-shirt.



elsewhere:
osage nation language program