Posted tagged ‘wash’

“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”… “It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”

February 17, 2018

This morning I had a home visit from a woman and her boxer.  She was from Boxer Rescue and was checking to make sure both my house and I were perfect for one of their rescue dogs. We are now on the list for a dog. She said puppies were coming from Puerto Rico, and I was going to get one. Her two boxers had also come from Puerto Rico. I had put Maddie in her crate because of the dog but it didn’t lock it so Maddie came sauntering out, looked at the dog and just kept walking. That was perfect. Even Maddie passed the dog test.

Today is a beautiful day with lots of sun. It is a bit chilly but warmer than it has been. I think that winter makes the coming of spring all that more delightful. The first warm days pull us all outside to have a bit of sun on our faces. We exult in the changing of the seasons. About this time of year when I was a kid, I got rid of winter and wore my spring jacket. I never admitted how cold I was.

I finally got to that wash  from a few weeks back. I had moved it to the cellar thinking out of sight out of mind, but I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed some off those clothes. It was three full loads with lots of sweatshirts and flannel pants, my stay at home outfits; however, with my bad arm, I couldn’t move anything upstairs. All that laundry is sitting in the basket in the cellar. I’ll ask Leandro, half of my cleaning couple, to bring it upstairs when he comes on Thursday. Until then, the cellar will be the annex for my closet and bureau, and I’ll got down and pick from the pile.

When I only had a little money, I used to buy comic books at the 5&10 or at the drug store. Each had racks of comics in the fronts of their stores. Classics Illustrated were the best comics of them all. They had these great covers, and inside, I got glimpses of novels I couldn’t wait to read. I knew all about Moby Dick before I even turned the first page. I had seen all the action in the panels of my Classics Illustrated which left out the boring part, the chapters in the middle about the kinds of whales. I read Hamlet and Les Miserables, both in easy to understand English. Kidnapped was another favorite comic of mine, and it led me to read the book. A few years ago, in her stocking, I gave my sister the Classic illustrated Treasure island, one of her favorite books. Of course, I read it first.

I have a few errands today, but I don’t mind. I love riding in the car on a sunny winter’s day. It seems to lift my spirits above the cold and thoughts of snow.

“One might well say that mankind is divisible into two great classes: hosts and guests.”

October 10, 2017

Today is another beautiful, warm day with a bright sun and a blue sky with just a few fluffy clouds. It is already in the 70’s. Tonight, though, will go down to the 50’s and will usher in daytime highs in the 60’s, far more fall-like weather than we’ve had. The doors and windows are open, but with cooler days coming, I guess I’ll have to start thinking about putting in the storm doors, the beginning of the cold weather rituals.

When I was a kid, my father would spend one whole Saturday putting in the storm windows. They were kept in the cellar during the summer. He’d have to take down the screens first, haul the storm windows outside, wash them and then attach them to the house window frames. There were hooks on top of the frames to hold the storm windows. My father would tilt the storm window at the top until it could be hooked. Sometimes it took a few, okay maybe several, tries before he’d get the upstairs windows attached. He was never happy about that. One thing my father lacked was patience. We’d watch the window exchange the whole time. My father used to lean out of the upstairs windows and attach them from there. He used a step ladder for the lower windows. Those Saturdays were the times when my vocabulary of four letter words was expanded the most. It was always a most entertaining day.

My guests are due between one and two. I’m just about ready. All I need is the wash to finish drying. I think I need guests every week as this is the fastest I’ve even gotten the was done. Usually it sits by the cellar door until I run out of underwear. This load never even sat by the door, a miracle of sorts.

My usually quiet day has been interrupted by the sounds of motors. The first sound may have been someone shutting down an irrigation system and the next was like the sound trimmers make. I saw the kids waiting for the bus this morning. They were riding scooters until it was time. I’m not usually up and about that early, but I had a meeting this morning.

I haven’t planned anything for today. I figure we can sit and enjoy each other’s company for a while. Later, we’ll take a ride, maybe stop at the beach and a shop or two. I get to play tourist.

“we can watch x-files together while we browse the internet for info on area 51?”

August 27, 2017

I’m not sure the adjectives running through my head are quite descriptive enough to tell you about the morning, but I’ll give it my best shot, the old college try. (Every now and then I do like to pepper my musing with a few idioms.) Today is a delight filled with sunshine, blue skies, cool temperatures and no humidity. It is a quiet day, almost a throwback Sunday from the 50’s when church and Sunday family dinners were the highlights of the day.

I have a couple of errands. I need bird seed and the two things I mentioned yesterday: hot dogs and toilet paper. I also need to plant the flowers I bought the other day and any other perennials I might find today. Those are the only items on my lists, and my dance card is totally empty for the rest of the week. The plays are done, my friends are traveling and my larder is filled. I do have some laundry, as usual, but I haven’t yet run out of underwear. I was thinking a Mad Hatter move and ordering some new ones so I don’t have to do wash quite yet, but even I think that’s might be a bit extreme and massively lazy.

I heard acorns hitting the deck again yesterday. The spawns are at it again. I don’t go barefoot out there anymore, and poor Gracie yelped when she stepped on an acorn. The spawns seeking vengeance against me. I swear I heard cheering when I first stepped on an acorn remnant.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind is celebrating its 40th anniversary. I’m watching it now which I expect explains my delay in posting. I can’t take my eyes off the screen when the UFO’s are on it. They are amazing with their colored lights, just like Barry said when he called them ice cream and toys. I smiled the whole time. It is still a wonder of a movie.

I’m in the camp of those who believe there is intelligent life elsewhere, not just on Earth, though I admit I sometimes wonder about Earth. It seems a bit of a conceit to think we are it.

“On the Sixth Day, God created man, the sort of result you often get when you go in to work on a Saturday.”

May 6, 2017

The rain started late yesterday morning.  It was torrential at times including when I was driving to the vets. I could barely see the road. Luckily, though, it stopped just as I got to the parking lot. Gracie and I hurried inside. She is not a fan of heavy rain. It is still raining.

Gracie has been incontinent at night. She has been drinking bowls and bowls of water. Yesterday she managed to be sick twice, on my only rugs. I called the vets so we went in for an afternoon appointment. The vet eliminated an infection and figured it was old age. She gave Gracie pills for the incontinence and a few pills for her occasional dizziness. Last night for the first time in a couple of weeks Gracie made it through the night though she hadn’t had any pills yet. Isn’t that the way! I remember my toothaches always went away when my mother made an appointment at the dentist.

Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week. When I was a kid, it meant Saturday morning TV. It was eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast while sitting on the rug in front of the TV set probably going blind from sitting so close. In winter it was the matinee. In the warmer weather, it was the day to ride my bike all over town.

In my whole life, I never worked on a Saturday. I never did homework, and I never corrected papers when I was teaching. All the weekend chores were saved for Sunday. Saturday was for me.

All my days are Saturdays now. Chores get done whenever. I am horrible at getting my laundry washed and put away upstairs. The other day I did finally wash all the clothes, but some of it is sitting on a chair in the living room waiting to be hauled upstairs and the rest of it is still in the dryer wrinkling by the minute. I can’t imagine how my mother managed to do a wash just about every day on a machine with a giant tub and a wringer and then she had to hang it out to dry. Mothers were superhumans.

Today I have nothing needing to be done though I might just bring the laundry upstairs. I’m not going to get dressed. I’m staying in comfy clothes. A nap is a possibility. It’s Saturday.

“It had been like swallowing a gust of October wind.”

October 15, 2016

The morning came late for me, finally. I woke up at 7:30. The day is chilly but the sort of chill you know won’t last. When I went out to get the papers, I saw smoke from my neighbor’s chimney. She had turned on her heat to ward off the cold of last night. Another neighbor was returning after walking her dogs. We exchanged pleasantries and commented about the chill.

I have a few things to do around the house: a wash, putting in the second storm door and watering plants. Life is back to the humdrum.

Gracie and I are heading to the garden center. It is pumpkin time. I’ll buy a few for my front steps, a few different size pumpkins. I’ll also buy some gourds, the last of the garden fresh vegetables and some bread.

Gracie is snoring and sleeping on the couch. The two cats are sleeping in their usual spots. Their morning rituals never change.

Moxie is an acquired taste. It is like drinking medicine. I don’t know anyone who drinks it. A lot of people never even heard of it. I don’t like Dr. Pepper either. I love A&W root beer, and I love how it foams when you pour it. Right now my drink of choice is fresh apple cider. It is the drink of fall.

When I was a kid, I always had a school bag. When I was really young, my school bag was almost like a briefcase, square with buckles to close it and a strap which went across my body. It was sometimes plaid. When I was older, my school bag was the green one with rubber inside to protect the books from the rain. It had a drawstring. When I was teaching, I had a blue briefcase. I always liked carrying it. It made me feel a bit important.

When I became an administrator, I stopped needing a briefcase. I switched to a backpack and used it as a handbag, a purse. My first one was nylon. Now my backpacks are leather. The one now was made in Vermont, is black, and the leather is soft. It is my winter bag. My summer bag is canvas, a messenger bag. It is getting close to switching time.

“You’ve got bad eating habits if you use a grocery cart in 7-Eleven.”

January 12, 2016

We have a light snow shower which I doubt will amount to much. The flakes are tiny and susceptible to the wind. They keep changing direction. I’m staying close to hearth and home today. It’s dark and cold outside, unwelcoming.

I could do a wash, but I won’t. I could change the sheets on my bed, but I won’t do that either. According to Martha Stewart I could make my own pretzels sprinkled with my favorite toppings, but I’ll never do that. As you can tell I have no ambition today, and I’m just fine with that.

When I was a kid, it was difficult to find a place where I could be alone. The house always seemed filled with people. It was small, and there were six of us. I shared a bedroom so I couldn’t kick my sister out if she wanted in. Sometimes I’d go down the cellar and sit and read. The cellar was below ground and had those small windows high up on the walls. When the sun shined through them, I could see dust in the light. I didn’t care. I was a kid. Dust has no meaning to a kid.

In my mind’s eye, I can see that whole house. The kitchen was small. One side had the sink, the counter and the fridge. The other side had the stove and the kitchen table. The fridge saw the most action. We’d all open it and stand there looking. I always had the hope they’d be something delicious, but delicious disappeared really fast in my house. My mother always yelled for me to close the fridge,”Get what you want then close it!” I didn’t know what I wanted. It was usually an exploratory hunt.

My parents grocery shopped on Friday evenings. My dad had to take my mother as she didn’t drive. They’d carry the filled brown grocery bags into the house, and we’d empty them not as a help, but to find the Oreos, the go to cookie in our house. There were always Oreos but not for long.

“Home is where we should feel secure and comfortable.”

November 19, 2015

In The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe it is, in the beginning, perpetually winter. We are in a similar state, less extreme but still perpetual. Every day is cloudy. The daytime temperature is always in the 50’s. When the days are windy, the trees lose more and more brown, crumpled leaves and become even barer. We’ve had our first frost. The few flowers which still brightened my garden are gone. Overnight the bird bath water acquired a thin layer of ice which slivered when I broken it with my hand. I, however, have stopped whining about the weather because whining seems to make it worse. I’ve adopted a ho-hum philosophy instead.

This morning has been productive. My bed is already made and the first wash is done. It happens that way. All of a sudden I get a blast of energy, and I do stuff around the house. I keep eyeing my low cabinet in the kitchen, but it would take more than a blast to get me to organize it. It would take a miracle. I know miracles happen because I finally organized my closet a while back. I’m thinking maybe it is better to start small. The cabinet under the bathroom sink would be a great first endeavor. I think I’ll give that one a try.

I love my house and did from the first moment I walked in the door. This was, of course, before HGTV so words like open concept, window treatment, bonus room and en suite master did not exist in the common vocabulary. I wanted lots of wood, a downstairs bedroom/den and a dining room. This house has them all. The floors are wide pine planks, now faded and scratched in the same way floors in historic houses are. The downstairs bedroom is the den I wanted so the TV didn’t have to be in the living room. I have a wonderful dining room. It is painted nutmeg, my favorite of all the colors in the house. It is open to the kitchen. The archway between the rooms is outlined in pine. The fireplace is on the left side of the large wall in the living room because the builder didn’t want to have two small corners. My yard is huge or rather Gracie’s yard is huge. I really love this house.

There are only two things I would add. The first is a screened front porch. That’s where you get to greet the neighbors. The second is a pantry. Everything I need would be right there, and I wouldn’t have to move stuff to find what I want. The cabinet I avoid scares me a bit. Moving one thing means several others will fall. I could be buried and not found for days. In a pantry order is easy.

I really have no intention of ever living somewhere else. I’m quite content with my back deck and my totally disorganized cabinet.

“After enlightenment, the laundry.”

July 10, 2012

It’s another beautiful day. The sun is bright, and it’s not yet too warm. The weatherman says low 80’s for today.  I have a bunch of errands to do later including sending for my Ghanaian visa. I’ve already bought a few things to take with me: wipe on insect repellant as last year my feet got eaten, wash cloths which start out in a small pill shape and a personal fan, hand size which runs on batteries. I don’t think I need anything else as I still have a few things I bought and never used for last summer’s trip, a first aid kit being among them.

When I was in Peace Corps training, we had two choices for washing clothes: a bucket for hand-washing or finding someone to wash them. I, of course, chose the latter as did most of the other trainees. I remember Winneba, our first training site, and following a dirt path among trees to the house of the woman who washed our clothes in buckets for a small amount of money. I have no idea how she was found, but I was thrilled not to have to bucket wash my clothes. I don’t remember the rest of training or my laundry, but I also don’t remember washing my own clothes. I’m thinking we found someone everywhere we went.

When I got to Bolga to live, I didn’t wash clothes there either, except for what one might call my personals. Thomas, who worked for me, washed the rest of my laundry in metal buckets then he’d iron my dresses using a charcoal iron. I noticed the seamstress who made my dress last summer uses that the same type charcoal iron.

At the hotel where I stayed last summer, I asked about someone doing my laundry. They recommended a woman who washed my clothes for not much money. She barely spoke English, but she filled in the gaps by smiling a lot. Always on her back was her small daughter. My clothes came back in one day. When I left Ghana to come home, my clothes, except for the personals, were all clean. That has never happened on any trip before, but I expect it to happen again this summer.