Underpants and prayer

Fruit of the Loom underwear is highly prized by my dear friends in Lesotho, so today I went out to a discount store in the suburbs and loaded up with about sixty pair of various sizes, some for women and some for men. My shopping jaunt left me near a little spit of land called Ricky Point, where there are some tattered Buddhist prayer flags flapping over the the confluence of the Columbia and Willamette Rivers. I always feel the peace in this place, although now the Portland Yacht Club has posted "No Trespassing" and "Do Not Enter" signs on all the pathways that lead to it, and they've erected chain-link fences and padlocked chains around the gates. I ignored them. If they want to arrest a 65-year-old woman with a point and shoot camera for standing under the prayer flags with sack full of underpants, let them. It's eight days till I leave for Lesotho, and I figure that little country can use all the underpants and prayer it can get.