The Weekly Newspaper serving the citizens of Morenci, Mich., Fayette, Ohio, and surrounding areas.

  • Front.cheers
    MACEE BEERS joins other Fayette Elementary School students for the annual Mini-Cheer performance during the half-time break at the basketball game.
  • Family.3.wide
    CHILDREN at Stair District Library’s Family Story Time toss scarves into the air during an activity. The evening program provided a mix of stories, songs, dancing, crafts and snacks Monday evening. The program is offered at 5:30 p.m. every Monday for five more weeks. The program is designed for three to five year olds and their family.
  • Front.newpaper.2
    THE INTERVIEW—Evelyn Joughin (right) records the interaction with an iPad while Jack Varga, next to her, asks questions of Morenci Elementary School principal Gail Frey. Morenci senior Sam Cool (standing) listens. Cool serves as the editor for the newspaper written by members of Mrs. Barrett’s second grade class.
  • Front.code.2
    WRITING CODE—Brock Christle (left), a Morenci fifth grade student, takes a look at the progress being made by fourth grader Anthony Lewis. Libby Rorick, a sixth grade student, is next in a line of girls trying out the coding tutorials. This year marked Morenci’s second year of participation in the Hour of Code project.
  • Front.skelton.vigil
    MORENCI’S three Skelton brothers were remembered with both tears and laughter last week during a candlelight vigil at Wakefield Park. Several people came out of the crowd to give their recollection of the boys who have now been missing for five years.
  • Front.gym.new
    REMIE RYAN (left) tries to dodge the foam wand held by Hayden Bays during physical education class at Morenci Elementary School. In the background, Lauryn Dominique and Brooklyn Williams stay clear of the tag. Second grade students were working on cardiovascular health on the first day back from vacation. For the record, Safety Tag is a very difficult sport to photograph.
  • Front.lift
    MORENCI student Dalton McCowan puts everything into a dead lift attempt Saturday morning during the Wyseguy Push/Pull event. Lifters helped raise more than $1,600 for the family of the late Devin Wyse, a former Morenci power-lifter who graduated last year. Commemorative T-shirts are still available by contacting teacher Dan Hoffman.

2008.05.14 Need fashion advice? Don't ask my husband

Written by David Green.

By COLLEEN LEDDY

My husband’s been commenting on my clothes the last few days and he’s being none too nice about it.

It’s my own dang fault; I probably shouldn’t have asked his opinion in the first place. But Maddie was out running Friday and Rozee hadn’t arrived home yet, so I had to rely on David for fashion advice. It was a mistake to use him as my mirror.

I put on a black and tan checked jacket with big front pockets over a smoky black long sleeve T-shirt.

“How does this jacket look with this shirt?”

He can’t contain his laughter.

“Where did you get that?”

“I got it at Goodwill.”

“It looks like you got it at Goodwill,” he says.

David doesn’t shop. He doesn’t shop at Goodwill and he doesn’t shop at the mall.  He rarely even shops at the grocery store. (It’s a momentous occasion when he returns home, unbidden, with a grocery bag of bananas, oatmeal and cornmeal—almost as if he’s shot a deer—literally bringing home the bacon.  To actually go out and purchase articles of clothing is rarer yet for him.

He’s no authority on what clothing from Goodwill looks like. I really have no business enlisting his opinion—except I haven’t worn this particular jacket to work before and Maddie is still out running and Rozee is still driving home from Berea.

“You don’t think it looks good with this shirt?”

“Yeah, maybe it’s the shirt,” he says, after considering it for a second. “It’s too black. Then he erupts with laughter again while pointing at my jacket.

He’s laughing so hard he can’t speak.

I try on another recent Goodwill purchase, an all-black suit jacket made of polyester, that fabric I hate, but it doesn’t actually touch my skin and the jacket design is pretty sharp.

“Black on black?” he laughs.

So I try on a thickly woven all-cotton white jacket with gray and white striped trim on the collar, sleeves and pockets. It’s a nice little number I bought when the girls and I were out college shopping for Maddie. I think it was in a really cool shop in Oberlin, Ohio. I’ve worn it several times in the past.

“It looks like you ought to take it off and dry dishes with it,” he says.

I look in the mirror and it doesn’t look so bad to me.

“Were you drunk when you bought that or was it a present?”

I examine it more closely and see that, by jove, he’s right—it does look a bit like a dishtowel.

I opt for my Bali jacket. It’s a pretty safe bet. Interesting pattern, almost batik-like, long enough to cover the bunchy waist and pockets of my weird gray pants, also purchased at that shop in Oberlin. I head for work, making a mental note not to ask David’s opinion on fashion matters.

But Monday evening at dinnertime, I am freezing and put on my “thread” jacket to keep warm. I love this jacket because it’s full of all kinds of colors, woven in a random pattern with threads hanging out here and there.

I make the mistake of asking, “How about this jacket? Think I can wear this to the council meeting?” as I hold up the sleeve which is showing some wear.

“Nobody will notice,” he says. “The whole jacket is in tatters.”

“You don’t like this jacket either?” I am amazed because everybody likes this jacket.

“It’s the one I tried to sell,” he says.

The kids had a yard sale several years ago that David helped man. I remember walking home from work that Saturday and seeing my jacket hanging from a clothing rack, waving in the breeze.

I don’t think he really would have sold it, but you never know what to expect with David.

For Mother’s Day, Maddie gave me a really nice, white, almost dressy sweatshirt. We were getting ready to go to my in-laws house so I said, ”I’m not going to wear it right now because I’ll be eating food.”

“When will you ever wear it?“ David asked, fully implying that all I ever do is eat food.

Hmm, I wonder how long it’ll be before I end up in a straight jacket.

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