Today is nude gardening day.
I love the concept, I really do, but this is so wrong for me for so many reasons _ poison ivy and its nasty relatives oak and sumac; ticks crawling into nether regions and oh _ my wooded corner lot provides no real privacy, leaving me exposed to unsuspecting walkers, cyclists and drivers.
Years ago, I thought it would be fun to run nude on a beach in Martha’s Vineyard. But remember that Seinfeld episode where his girlfriend is doing everything in the buff and he wished she would put on clothes? My husband muttered something about me looking like a flounder running toward the water. Body parts were jiggling that I had no idea moved when I wear clothes.
So nudists do your thing in the garden today. I’m keeping my clothes on.