Posted tagged ‘dryer’

“Look after your laundry, and your soul will look after itself.”

November 28, 2017

Yesterday and this morning were busy times, busy enough to keep me in sloth mode for the rest of the week. Yesterday I had an appointment in Hyannis then I shopped for dog food, two bags full, heavy bags full so I left one bag in the car. A repair man came yesterday afternoon and fixed my washer. He also checked the dryer which strangely enough worked for him. Once he was done and gone, I started doing the laundry which was piled in giant heaps on the cellar floor. One heap was from a couple of weeks ago and another from last week. The final heap, the smallest, was the afghan and a couple of  blankets from a few weeks ago which had had no immediacy so I let them sit on the floor a while. Once each heap was washed and dried, I carried it upstairs to this floor thinking to save my back but that made no difference. I killed my back anyway. It was so bad, I could have played Igor in Young Frankenstein. The laundry still sits on the chair in the living room waiting to be brought upstairs. It will be a long wait.

This morning Gracie woke me up early. She was restless and moving around on the couch cushion so I figured it was time for her to go out. Maddie was meowing just for the joy of it. She needed nothing. She was just being a cat. Gracie and I went out, and after Gracie was done, I went to get my mail from the box across the street. Gracie followed me. All of a sudden the hair on her back went up and she was growling. A lady was walking her dog, and Gracie hates other dogs so she went after this one. My arms were filled with mail, but I still tried too grab her halter. Gracie was moving better than she has in weeks. The other dog kept trying to get Gracie, but the lady walking her dog was wonderful. As we were both grappling, I told her Gracie has trouble walking so she held her dog with one hand and grabbed Gracie with other then transferred Gracie to me. There I was carrying the mail in one hand and bending over to hold Gracie’s halter with the other. When I got inside the house, I immediately sat on the stairs as I couldn’t move any further because of my back. I sat there a while and Gracie, looking a bit bewildered, watched me sit.

Here I am now, a few aspirins later, with a better back for the meanwhile. I will lift nothing heavier than a cup of coffee. The laundry can sit. I have no guilt leaving it there. That I did three heaps of laundry in one day is a new record for me, one I am quite proud for achieving.

“After enlightenment, the laundry.”

September 29, 2017

Today is a lovely fall day. The air is clear. The sun is sharp and bright. It is in the low 60’s and will stay that way until tonight when it will drop into the 50’s. Last night was downright cold. I took Gracie out around eleven and wished I had worn a sweatshirt. I kept urging her to hurry. She didn’t. She sniffed all over until she found her right spot.

I love my mornings. Lately I have been waking up late, but I still take the time to enjoy the start of my day. The pattern never changes. Gracie and I go out to get the papers then I take her to the backyard. She is quick to finish so we go inside. I put the coffee on then tend to Gracie and Maddie. The cat is loud and demanding. I fill her dry food dish then give her a can of cat food, always meat, never fish. Gracie is next. I fill her dry food, ready her medications then give her a can of dog food with the meds hidden beneath. It is then I can grab a cup of coffee and start reading the papers. I never hurry despite Maddie’s exhortations.

I wish I were handy, but I have inherited my father’s ineptitude when it comes to working with my hands. He was the man who sawed himself out of a tree. My mother and I watched from the window. We could have warned him but he wasn’t all that far off the ground. He so destroyed the toilet when he was fixing it, though fixing is loosely used here, that the plumber was amazed and wanted to know who did the destruction. He cut all of his fingers when fixing a fan. My father never gave up trying to be a Mr. Fixit. My mother kept a list of repairmen and their numbers. She knew she’d need it.

My laundry is done. It was quite the task. The first load didn’t spin. I had to wring out the wettest clothes, but the dryer did its job. I put in the second load anyway. I wanted no dirty laundry left. When I went to move the second load to the dryer, I was surprised to find them spun. I figured the first load had to have been uneven, and I didn’t hear the warning. I was thrilled.

I think it is a sad commentary that I can find laundry thrilling. Ho Hum!

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

March 14, 2017

 

Today is miserable. The snow started early. When I first woke up at 9, I checked out the window and saw snow blowing north to south. I went back to sleep. When I woke up at 10, it had just started raining. I went out to get the papers and yesterday’s mail. Gracie was with me on her leash. She hated it and looked beaten walking close to the ground with her ears down. The street was pure slush, snow topped by rain. I left footprints right down to the street. Gracie finally peed then ran to the door. She should have stayed out as I know she still has more to do, but I wanted in as well. I was soaked. Later she wanted out again but didn’t take the plunge. The wind was ferocious so Gracie just backed into the house. We did that twice, both to no avail. She is sleeping now. I hope she enjoys her nap. My hair is still wet.

The first load of laundry is in the dryer. I threw the bags down the cellar stairs last night so I wouldn’t have to look at them anymore. This morning I decided to bite the bullet and do the laundry. I found a missing gray sock on the floor in front of the dryer so I reunited the pair. Two other socks wait for partners. I first thought them a pair but realized in the light one is black and the other dark blue. There must be another exact pair in today’s laundry.

On the Peace Corps Ghana Facebook page are pictures of current trainees doing their laundry. They are all sitting on the porch edge with buckets of clothes in front of them. Clean laundry hangs on lines behind them. I got a chuckle out of that bucket brigade. All through training, my group found Ghanaian women to pay to do our laundry. During the first two weeks of training, the women were from Winneba where we were staying. You gave laundry to them one day, and it came back the next, ironed and folded. The only exception was undergarments. Those we had to wash ourselves. I hated bucket laundry. In retrospect, I figure maybe a smidgeon of that feeling is responsible for two bags of laundry sitting in the hall for nearly a week. Maybe, though, it is just laziness, but I suspect running out of clean undergarments forced my hand and prompted my memories.

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.”

September 9, 2016

When I got the papers, I noticed the road still wet from my lawn being watered. That screamed humidity to me so I turned on the air conditioning. The weatherman last night did say summer was returning today.

Periodically the AC turns on to break the silence. Gracie isn’t even snoring. Both cats are awake, unusual for the morning. One is cleaning her ears and the other is just looking out the window from her perch, the back couch cushion. I have no idea what holds her attention.

Today I have nothing to do, not a single list. I’m thinking about lolling and reading. Before that, though, I might hit the chocolate shop for bon bons.

Yesterday my list was completed. I even brought my laundry upstairs, a rarity. Usually it sits in the dryer for sometimes as long as a week. I don’t mind doing laundry. It is the up and down the stairs, the folding and the carrying up two flights of stairs which I don’t like. The house we lived in when we first moved to the cape had the washer and dryer in the kitchen because there wasn’t a cellar, just a small dug out area. That made doing laundry easy.  When I worked, I managed to get everything done including planning lessons and correcting.

When I worked, I managed to get everything done, mostly on the weekends when I shopped, mowed the lawn, did laundry and cleaned the house. Now, despite having all the time in the world, I hire people. The house gets cleaned every other Thursday. On the off weeks, I do a bit of dusting, a small bit of dusting, and some vacuuming. My lawn gets mowed every Friday. Peapod delivers groceries right to my kitchen. I order when the larder is empty. Skip, my factotum, does whatever I need, things like opening and closing the deck, painting and general repairs. I know I shouldn’t complain given what little I do, but I want staff, particularly a laundress or a launderer. I did find a drop off Launderette, but I just can’t see myself driving my laundry bag to Hyannis. I guess I’m stuck.

“After enlightenment, the laundry.”

November 15, 2012

The house is dark; outside is uninviting. It is an ugly, raw day with a cloud-filled sky. The yard got cleaned this morning, and the guys let Gracie escape through the back gate. They opened it without checking, and off she went. It was a catch me if you can game. Gracie would stop and wait until one of the guys got close then she’d run, stop to wait then run again. Finally I called my friend at the end of the street, and she went right to him.

I still haven’t grocery shopped yet, but today I must as the last of the dry cat food was used to fill their dish this morning. The wash, though, got done yesterday, but it is sitting in the dryer. I’ll get to it sometime.

I remember laundry stiff from the cold hanging on the lines. My mother would brave the weather, bring in the still damp laundry and hang it in the cellar so it would dry. She always hung up her laundry in the same way. Shirts were clothes-pinned to the line by their bottom edges and one shirt was attached to the next so three clothespins hung up two shirts. It was the same with sheets though she’d double those over the line. I don’t remember us having anything but white sheets back then. The clothespins were wooden. My mother would slide the clothespin bag along the line as she hung the clothes. She’d have a clothespin in her hand and one sticking out of her mouth, and then she’d maneuver being careful not to drop the clothes. It was like sleight of hand to hang and pin. My mother was a master.

No one around here hangs clothes anymore. The house next door, a summer rental, has a clothesline hanging between two pine trees, but I only see towels and bathing suits on it. My sister uses her clothesline in the warmer months. It saves money and the clothes, especially the sheets, smell wonderful.

I still remember getting into a bed freshly made with sheets smelling of the sun. It is one of my favorite sense memories, that smell. It is right up there with burning leaves. When I first moved here I had a clothesline, but my allergies didn’t take well to the pine pollen so I had to buy a dryer. I’m still sorry about that.