Category Archives: Humor

My Dirty Laundry

Scandalous … eye-catching.  But yeah, this is really about my dirty laundry.  Literally.

The only thing scandalous that happened was someone took the laundry cart I’d selected and I had to pick another one. :-O

Here’s what I wrote for you.

laundromat

Busier than usual at the laundromat today.  “You’ve lost that loving feeling” is playing on the little boombox (are they still called that?). 

Smells of fabric softener, detergent and warmth in here.  The white noise of the dryers hum over ‘don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t let it slip away’.

All clothes sound so soft tumbling around in an industrial dryer!  I swear, the scratchiest article of clothing would sound like a fluffy, high count cotton towel in there.

I like watching people fold.  I mean, I don’t stare at them or anything, but I notice.

My favorite ‘folder’ was a wisp of a man.  I dubbed him ‘Handkerchief Man’. 

He must have had at least two dozen of them at his folding table.  All white.

He halved, smoothed, quartered, smoothed.  Then placed the little square to one side once he was satisfied.

cleanfoldedhandkerchief

Okay, I did stare at him.  I got lost in his concentration.  He was old and thin, I wanted to wrap him in cotton wool he looked so fragile.  He kept folding, I was smiling.  Inventing his back story in my hypnotic state – just dreamy. 

That is, until he walked past me muttering one foul word after another.  I was shocked – a giggle bubbled up into my throat.  It had to have been some sort of tourettes or illness saying those words, not my delicate old gentleman!

I saw him a couple of months later in line at the bank.  He was muttering again, appearing a lot less precious without his linens.

Today I’m sat in a chair in a corner.  My usual spot and my back up spot taken. Great view of the room though.

How must I look scribbling onto my little yellow pad?  Am I now someones ‘Writing Girl’?  I’ll look different at the bank. LOL!

There are 4 machines by the front windows.  A ‘grabby’ game with cheap stuffed prizes, a beverage vending machine and two antiquated video games.  I know one has ‘Frogger’ on it. (Before the novelty of the laundromat wore off, Nic used to come with me.  We ventured over that direction with some quarters).

Now I come alone.  Usually I’ll toss the dirty into a couple of machines then leave to run other errands.

Not today.

It takes half an hour for the wash to finish – then I grab a cart (usually a yellow one, my favorite color) and push over to the dryers.  Nine times out of ten, a pair of underwear (always mine of course) mischievously throws itself to the floor during transfer.  I do the glance around, bend, scoop and grab manuever hoping no one saw.  Dryers take about twenty minutes.

I don’t mind so much coming here.  It’s nice to get all the loads done at once.  Sometimes though, I wish I had my ‘days off’ to be at home.

I smell of bleach from my part-time Sunday morning job – I’m grateful though.

When I get home with the clean laundry, I’ll put mine away.  Give Nic his basket (where his clothes will stay until he dips in for something he needs).

I’ll take a shower, put comfy ‘at home’ clothes on and take the afternoon to refresh before starting dinner.

That’s after I share this with you of course. 

You can always count on me to share my dirty laundry.

Memory Lane – the shows (Insert Coin)

I am a big TV watcher.  Always have been. 

When I was a little girl, “Mum, can I watch telly?” required more than a “yes” it required coins! 

Our TV was a coin operated one.  I don’t remember how much it cost, but my ‘research’ has other children from the 70’s remembering approximately 50 pence for 4 hours.

prepaymeter

I do remember inserting the coins.  (We also did this for our electricity, in 10p increments – you try putting coins in a meter, in a cupboard, when it’s dark! *shudder*). 

Loved the day the meter man came to empty out the box.  I would hide some of the money and when times got a little tighter than normal, I’d surprise my mum with the stack of coins.  (Wait, did I steal that from the meter man or was that overage?  Oops).

I had started out wanting to post about English sweets (oh those penny sweets!), then got sucked into the toys of the 70’s I played with – that led to the comic books I read – then came the shows. 

We’ll do the shows first I think.  There are a lot!  Even though we only had 3 channels back then.

The Wombles

Wombles

They lived on Wimbledon Common (yes, that Wimbledon).  These creatures were our introduction to ‘going green’.  They lived in burrows and cared about the environment, picked up litter and recylced. Very catchy song they had too.

Dr. Who.  Anyone my age has to argue that Tom Baker was the best. 

Dr.Whotombaker

Yes, he was.

 

Then there was Playschool, Fingerbobs, Basil Brush, Top Cat the Magic Roundabout, Swap Shop, Roobarb & Custard, Magpie, Top of the Pops … SO many!  I want to insert pictures for all of them (and I have them, oh yes I do), but I couldn’t possibly leave out Rainbow and the hilarity that is the ‘innuendo’ scandal. 

In my innocence, I watched.  I loved Bungle, Zippy and George!

rainbowshow

Then years later – this came out:

Shocking! LOL

I’ll share a little secret dream with you now as I sign off for now.  This was the picture we got before programming began (remember that?  When TV wasn’t an around the clock affair?)

I always wanted to be the little girl in this picture.

UKtestsignal

Snarky Bandersnatches

Browsing through my Archie McPhee catalog this morning and ran into these adorable little guys. (I finished my book yesterday – I always need something to read).

bandersnatch

“Decorate your digits with these engaging little bandersnatches …”

They had me at ‘engaging little bandersnatches’.  I so loved the word, of course, had to Google it.

Answer: A Bandersnatch is a fictional creature from Lewis Carroll’s 1872 novel Through the Looking-Glass and 1874 poem “The Hunting of the Snark”.

(If he’s still hunting for snark, I have some.  But I’m trying to be nice today).

I loved these things as a child!  OK, who am I kidding, I still love them.  I love them so much I may have to shell out $9.95 for a set of 16.   

Roast Beast

Snapped again.

I hold things in and then when it get’s to be too much I boil over.

My son is currently headless as I bit it off.

I had been cooking him and his friend a beef roast.  My kitchen is tiny, I was creating space for carving – while stirring mushroom gravy and fluffing the potatoes and cooking the vegetable.  All this was accomplished, barely, on probably 2 square feet of counter space.

I flipped the dog a piece of meat and got a comment from the living room (6 feet away) “Oh!  Feed the DOG before us”. 

Hold it in.

Kept cooking – almost done, where to put two plates?? 

As a hand snakes around my body to place an empty ice-cube tray into the sink  – I started to vibrate with frustration.

The microwave beeps and it’s blocked by a cup being filled with soda. 

Hold it in.

Son get’s the point (after a not so subtle ‘Really??’) leaves the kitchen.  And leaves the two plates I’ve now prepared. 

Oh hell no.

“Come and get your friends plate, then yours!”

Sulkily he comes for it.

Then the already dismantled living room is further dissected.  Well, my papers to be exact.  Since they’ve been moved from one spot to accommodate the gaming devices, they must now be moved to accommodate eating.

I stomp (very maturely, not) into the living room muttering something foul and say “Give me my things!”

And right then – I feel about as ugly as I have ever felt, but cannot stop. 

I’m hurt. 

I gave up the living room, the peace that was my Saturday so Nic could have his friend over.

I spent time cooking them a meal.

And ended up feeling used and invisible. 

I cleaned up the kitchen, washed the dishes and then took my food into my room. 

I was literally shaking.  Mad that my son never seems to be aware of his surroundings.  Mad that he doesn’t seem to appreciate me.  Mad because of his momentary lack of consideration.

I decided I would apologize for my outburst.

Until I came out with my empty plate and saw a dirty dish sitting by the sink.

Pedestrian crossing

I am very, very, very patient.  I drive my son bonkers sometimes with my patience.

I have no problem waiting in line at the grocery store or the bank.  I’ve always had a comeback for those who are getting antsy “you know, there are some people who would give anything to be in this line right now”.

Behind a slow car?  I slow down.  “Why don’t you pass them?”  to which I respond to my son, who just said it, “Do you have somewhere to be?”.

There is one thing though, that drives me bananas!

Pedestrians crossing in front of me without so much as a little finger wave of gratitude or nowadays, not even looking up to acknowledge I’m there!

I’m waiting as they slowly meander (usually diagonally) to the other side.

Oh – My – Dog!

(I say that instead of OMG, I’m not referring to my actual dog, who knows how to hustle across a road by the way).

Put some giddy-up in that step!!

Used to be it was the younger walker.  You could always count on an elder to make eye contact, give a little nod or wave and walk with some speed in thanks.

Not anymore. 

Not sure what bothers me so much about it – because I’m honestly not in a hurry.  I think maybe it’s because it seems to have gone from having the ‘right of way’ to having a sense of unappreciated entitlement. 

Which brings me to manners in general.

When did we stop saying ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’?  Well, I didn’t stop.  And it seems to amaze store clerks, waiters,  and anyone else who provides a service to me.

And don’t give me that ‘they get paid to do it’ crap either. 

I get so upset when on the rare occasion I’m behind someone in a drive through and hear “Yeah … gimme a number 5”. 

Gimme??

Pfft.

I always do my job.  But I’ll be honest, if someone is polite to me – pleasant on the phone or smiles in person, I’m much more likely to go the extra mile for them. 

But it shouldn’t just be to get something back.  For me, it’s just first nature to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.  Besides not getting spit in my food or cans put on top of my eggs in my shopping bag – it feels good and it feels right!

And when I cross the damn street, even if I’m in a cross walk, I make eye contact with the waiting driver and raise my hand in thanks and do the little skip-into-fast -walk thingy.

“Thank you” for stopping by, and “thank you” for reading.