Wet out
It seemed like a really good idea at the time. I could never find a laundry basket that did not have strange things in it when I needed one. Weeks ago I bought two more laundry baskets. That way I had one for my clean clothes and one for the dirty.
George did the laundry this past weekend. The kids also did their laundry, except for Nina who flew from Barcelona straight back to school. I had not been in the laundry room for several days.
It was not as bad as I have seen it; all members of the family had a few items here and there. But then I counted the laundry baskets: standing on the floor and piled on each other, several with only one or two items flung on the bottom. There was no place to set down the basket I had just brought down from upstairs. Disgusted, I dumped everything together and sorted out the first load so that I would have a clean uniform to wear this morning. An hour later (mind you, all of this is before 0730), I came down, dropped the first load in the dryer and just dumped the remainer of my basket in the washer. Taking the basket with me, I headed back upstair.
Then it hits me, uniform shirts. Uniform shirts have various patches with Velcro. I have three tops, two of which are in the washer and one in the dryer. I have two sets of patches. I have an almost dry bare shirt. The patches are securely fastend to the shirts currently in the middle of a wash cycle.
The digital display says 35 minutes remaining. You do realize that I have the standard German front load washer. I have to wait for a spin cycle, kill the process and turn everything off for at least five minutes in order to get the front door to unlock. And there is no way to restart it mid cycle. This is not a fun choice.
I could go and dig out a set of BDUs, find and polish a set of black boots. Right. Not. Some of the above accomplished, I zipped up my dry shift with the soaking wet patches, restarted the washing machine, gathered up everything and headed out the door.
Knitting.
They are done. Finished. Complete. The Shadow Socks – on feet, on blockers and up close. The shadow part was interesting, and I have proved that I can wind up with actually a sock from a rather weird construction. It will be a while before I even think about repeating this.
Audio
No, Lime & Violet is not good for me. I would up making a trip to Lisa Souza’s website.
It is late, and I am still wandering over to the hospital to post. We will not talk about WordPress giving me fits.
-Holly