Sometimes, I find poetry in the washing, sometimes love. I even found a scorpion once. But today, as I walked from the newly-filled washing line, through the kitchen, down the hall and into the room with the pile of things which smell nice, but need to be put away, all I could think was: ‘the washing never fucking ends’.
21 Responses to “After a rainy weekend”
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March 24, 2011
[…] of nurofen. We watch James and the Giant Peach, Howl’s Moving Castle and The Goodies. I hang loads of laundry which have been soaked in double doses of dettol. I make bread and butter puddings. I kiss burning […]
The story so far
I'm from Adelaide, but I'm living in Abu Dhabi right now. One day, I saw a gold leaf four wheel drive. It made me cry.
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My first novel, Black Dust Dancing, was published by Wakefield Press in March. It looks like this:
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My first novel, Black Dust Dancing, was published by Wakefield Press in March. It looks like this:
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adelaide from adelaide 
So.
True.
Teh washing breeds in the washbasket. And under the children’s beds. And behind their doors. And in their schoolbags. And in any place where they have been recently, really.
Damn. You’ve just reminded me I have to get up and go to the washing machine which is on drip dry, go out the back and get the big black hose and run it through the lounge and onto the draining hose on the machine and then turn it onto Spin. Then bring the remaining things and heap them on the clothes horse because nothing’s ever really dry at this time of year, and peg out the wet stuff…
You want to know what I do when I’m not blogging? This is what I do.
I always thought people were exaggerating when they talked about the washing. I mean, they’re only two extra people, and they’re quite small people – how much washing could they create? You’d think (I thought) you’d hardly notice an extra B0nds all-in-one or two amongst the regular washing.
When considering my return to the workforce, I don’t worry that they will be lonely for me, I don’t worry that they won’t eat well, I worry that they will wear filthy clothes.
very occasionally I have a moment while hanging out the washing nest to the lime tree.
However, most days I am gnashing my teeth and hissing that last line of yours.
Washing: fine
hanging out: fine, as long as the nicest pegs come quickly to hand
Bringing in: fun if oldest (autistic)son helps and piles pegs for half an hour, quietly, afterwards (I pretend he is communing with nature, while I blog)
Sorting: TEH DEBBIL, I have clothes-sorting dyslexia
Ironing: something David Malouf and Germaine Greer enjoy. SO WTF is wrong with the rest of us?
The socks are the worst. Pairing them.
Son has just decided that pairing socks is a game. Which I will encourage.
Pairing socks. I wish.
Amen.
But socks don’t come in pairs.
if i tie socks together, that makes a pair.
But mostly I don’t.
Somehow I don’t seem to have the sock problem, but I hate the washing right now too. I’m hoping it’ll be better when the weather gets warmer and drying racks don’t take up half the lounge room.
The dishes never fucking end, either.
The dishes never fucking end, either.
Ha! Was just thinking that same thing!
Our bathroom tiles were clean for several days in July.
They’re back to normal now.
Laurie Colwin described lanudry as a Mobius strip . . .
Somehow even if we’ve had takeaways for dinner and worn filthy clothes all weekend, there are still dishes, and there are still at least two loads of laundry that need doing.
It would help if the toddler didn’t take so much joy in removing things from the clothes horse and wiping his snotting nose on them. I think I’d feel better if clean things managed to actually get worn before they needed washing again. I love the Mobius strip.