Category Archives: Musings from the laundromat
Little pink girl
I struggled with my laundry basket today – it’s bedding day.
I wondered when I waddled in, swaying back and forth from the weight of my laundry, if I really have lost too much weight.
Through the door and to the machine to load money onto the laundromat card.
There was a man behind me – mumbling about keys. I turned and smiled – not sure if he meant to be in line. I could still hear him mumbling while I filled two washing machines. I named him ‘man in the blue t-shirt’ and wondered about his life.
I am constantly curious.
As I looked to my right, from my machines – I noticed a sight that piqued my curiosity even more.
On the floor – was an open, empty suitcase.
Leaning against one of the machines was a small girl holding a blanket close to her and sucking her thumb.
She reminded me of a small deer – or bird. Nervously shifting and ready to take off at the slightest sign of danger.
My heart sighed.
I named her ‘little pink girl’ and my imagination was already writing her story. Why was she so thin and delicate? Were she and her guardian living out of that suitcase somewhere? Were they hiding from someone?
Of course, the very real possibility exists that she is simply on holiday. I do live in a resort area.
But I’m always wondering.
Her guardian came back to her side and was kind. My heart relaxed a little.
Little pink girl made eye contact with me and I smiled.
When I pulled my comforter out of my basket, like an impossibly large handkerchief from a magician’s hat, we shared a smile.
I imagined her thinking it was the color of hard candies.
I wanted to photograph her in that moment … leaning there – cautiously looking at her surroundings with her big, beautiful eyes. Sucking her thumb beside that suitcase.
Some moments can’t be captured.
But they can be shared.
Musings from my bed: Laundromat procrastination
I should already have my laundry basket prepared … my detergent packed – my bed stripped. But, I’m too comfortable in it to strip it. Too snuggly in my soft pajamas to do anything but stay in this quiet moment.
It’s inevitable – if I want clean clothes and sheets – and I am fond of such things.
But just this moment – right this second – it is SO deliciously quiet and peaceful and calm.
I have my cup of coffee, of the home made fancy variety.
Butters is outside exploring. Nic is sleeping. And the sun is hitting my curtain in a way that makes me smile.
It’s been a long few days.
Nicholas is experiencing the joy of becoming wise – in a most painful way. Yes, the wisdom teeth.
Well, ‘tooth’ as far as we can tell with all of our dental training.
Unfortunately for my chipmunk – he has an infection (again, educated guess based on the level of pain and size of his cheek.)
Last night, as we sat on our opposing couches, he suddenly jumped up and rushed to the kitchen.
Me: What??!
Nic: I think something just happened.
(I pretty much knew ‘something’ must have happened because Nic doesn’t move that quickly off of furniture for ‘nothing’.)
It turns out, that ‘something’ was an abscess rupturing in his mouth.
Not pleasant.
Me: Rinse with warm salt water!!
(Nic was already holding the salt – note to self: He DOES listen and retain advice from time to time – keep giving it)
I should take a moment to explain why I am not a terrible mother for not having had him seen by a dentist yet.
We were pretty sure a wisdom tooth was coming in – and he was in pain. But, as I said to Nic, “Of course you’re in pain, you are teething.”
It wasn’t until Halloween that he developed the swollen face.
I’m not going to go into details and pity stories – the long and short of it is, we don’t have health or dental insurance and we don’t have ‘in case of emergency’ money.
I spent Friday at work trying to figure out how to get him to a dentist.
So after the great ‘rupture’ he was actually feeling better.
Nic: Mom, look, I think it’s a good thing. I can bite down now. I don’t think I have to go to the dentist!
Me: Um … an abscess popping in your mouth isn’t a check mark in the ‘reasons I DON’T have to go to the dentist’ column.
Then he was sad. Spitting remaining salt water and drool into his little spit cup.
We had engaged in conversation earlier about the reality of the situation. I assured him his health was priority one, but that might mean Christmas would not be the same under the tree.
We spoke again when I visited him in his room.
Nic: I don’t want you spending money or owing money
Me: It is what it is. It’s important! Money can be replaced. It’s silly isn’t it? These pieces of paper that we trade for goods and services. Sure, it would make things easier if we had more of it – but we don’t. We’re blessed though. Everything always works out. So, don’t worry about it.
And we are blessed.
We’re alive – have use of our limbs and our faculties. We have a home and food and snuggly pajamas. We have each other and Butters. We have clothes TO wash and transportation TO get to the place to wash them.
And we have sunlight playing on our curtains. And the kind of eyes and souls that notice such things – and smile.
Musings from the Laundromat: Website Edition
I got here later than usual – and as a result, I have a lot more company.
I am at a table completely foreign to me – exposed in the middle of the room. I prefer to face the door with no one behind me. I don’t like the sensation that someone could be reading over my shoulder. (Which is odd when you consider that what I’m writing I publish for all to see.)
I am finding myself even missing the giant rainbow umbrella table!
I am in uncharted laundry waters.
Here is my view:
Have to say, I much prefer my laundry basket to those in front of me:
Back to uncharted waters.
I spent most of yesterday and the night – creating a website. At this point, as I sit at my strange little exposed table I am feeling bonkers.com
Other than this site, I have never created a website before – and when it is for something as important as the subject I was presenting, the stress multiplies.
Somehow, with the help of clickable question marks and trial and error – I got it up and running.
Of course, there is always tweaking to be done. Things you notice the next day when your eyes and brain have rested.
After getting more feedback and translations from Rainer, I went back to the desk and edited.
You know, there are some words that can turn your blood to ice in your veins, and I can testify that some of those words are: “Unable to Save.”
After my initial palpitations and cursing in my head – I switched to logical mode and tried to solve the problem.
Shut down, restart. Nope. Try Chrome instead of Firefox. Nope. Update Chrome because you’ve been ignoring all the ‘update’ messages for a very long time now. Nope. Shut down, restart again.
I came to the conclusion that the issue must be with the site and not with me. And I am hoping this is not an indication of their servers. The domain is claimed – the site created – so if editing is a recurring problem, that will not be good. I will have to take the domain name elsewhere.
Without further ado: I now present to you, in all it’s ‘not completely edited’ glory:
http://www.daserbedeskommandanten.com
In all seriousness – it is the website for Rainer’s book. It will be available next year in English. The German version is available now.
It is so VERY important that we do not forget! History has a way of repeating itself, personally and globally, when we do not learn from the past!
The book recounts the past and answers frequently asked questions of ‘how’ and ‘why’ Rainer continues to do what he does.
Speaking out against your family for the right reasons is brave – and good.
As I said to Rainer: ‘Remember, there is such GOOD.’
And I am humbled and honored to have had the opportunity to play a small part in it.
Musings from the Laundromat: Cake, foot-in-mouth and Mr. Stare edition
Had to do some serious motivational speeches in my head this morning to get out of bed and to the laundromat. Mostly they consisted of: ‘when you get everything done, you can have cake.’
Some were more along the lines of ‘You get out of life what you put into it’ and ‘you’ll feel better after your chores are done and you can relax’ but, mostly they all ended with cake.
So here I am. Things weren’t looking good when I arrived.
Someone was at my table. (‘My’ table, lol)
Not just anybody – but a male who, I felt looking at me the whole time I was putting my items in the washing machines. I tried not to look up, but eventually had to and when I made eye contact, he didn’t break it!
Creeped me out. I felt his stare and could see his focus on me in my peripheral vision.
I hurried to the rainbow umbrella table and stared ahead. At this lovely sight.
Yes, the laundromat bathrooms are ready for Halloween. Good grief.
Normally this would please me – but sitting under the giant rainbow umbrella juxtaposed with staring at such a dank, yellowed, dismal view left me feeling uncomfortable.
Especially since Mr. Stare was still staring at me from MY table.
The view and the sensation were about as pleasant as finding a Band Aid in the dryer, after drying your clothes and knowing no one at your house injured themselves.
Yeah.
That kind of unpleasant.
Anyway – he’s gone now.
So back to motivation and cake.
My son’s girlfriend turned 19 yesterday and when they returned from a day at her house and dinner – they sat and we chatted and laughed AND … she had brought me a piece of saved cake.
It wasn’t until she left and Nic squirreled his way under my tin foiled treasure, that it was revealed in all it’s cakey glory that it came with candles.
How adorable is that? Who thinks to leave them in?
Well, it certainly had the appropriate number of candles because I behaved as if I were three yesterday.
I have this annoying habit of speaking my mind.
I really try not to! I do!
I sit myself down and explain why it is not a good time to bring something up, or why I should not say what’s on my mind. I nod at myself and agree – then proceed to do it anyway.
I infuriate me sometimes. But I can never stay mad at me long.
So the weekend has pretty much consisted of me behaving like a 3 year-old – being extra emotional – feeling insecure, crying at animal videos and craving cake.
Wonderful.
Even Butters has been in an odd mood. She took herself off to bed last night after giving up waiting on me and she’s doing her really good imitation one of those poor, unloved animals you see on those gut wrenching commercials.
Notice she’s being very ‘unloved’ from her spot on my bed. Which I’m allowing even though she’s shedding like crazy.
I’m hoping to cheer myself and the dog up by cleaning when I get home with the laundry and letting some light and fresh air into the house.
And! By removing the foot from my mouth and inserting cake.
Musings from the laundromat: Truth Edition
Inspiration comes when you least expect it.
Mine came approximately 20 minutes ago in the form of a friend’s status on Facebook.
She was considering authenticity and how not sharing every detail effects it.
I have the same issue when it comes to this blog – and it spills over into other areas of my life too.
The conclusion I came to was that the grey area would have to be. This is my journey and it is not fair to write about someone elses part in it.
But I loathe editing myself. I loathe it, and yet, I do it every day.
I know the following truths about myself:
I love with abandon.
I detest lying.
I have an artistic soul.
I am not as strong as people think I am.
There is so much you don’t know. Pieces of the puzzle that are necessary to make the picture clear are missing.
Omitted.
In the car, within a flood of thoughts and ideas, an image of a carnival came to mind.
I photograph everything. I love taking pictures. Snap shots – memories – art for art’s sake.. Whatever speaks to me is photographed.
Back at the carnival, I imagined lights and families – photographs of smiling children holding pink cotton candy. But that isn’t a fair representation of ‘the carnival’.
I would want gritty photos of the staff setting up the rides – dirt on their jeans, sweat running into their eyes. Pictures of parents with sad, tired faces – financial worry etched into their brows. The litter – the splitting seams of the cheap midway prizes.
All of it.
All.
This need drives me. I stumble upon something I know nothing about, and I have to research to understand it. A book ends in ambiguity and I’m annoyed. A movie or documentary touches me and I must see ‘behind the scenes’.
I’m on a constant quest to discover the why. What makes people tick? When I ask questions of a friend or a stranger for that matter – I’m genuinely interested in the answers.
I question myself all the time too. What was my motive? What is this feeling? Why am I doing what I’m doing?
Truth.
I need it like air and water, calories and sleep. I need it like dreams and love and knowledge.
I can respect the truth. No matter if I like the answer.
I’ve learned to call bullshit on myself. I am honest with me.
I had a thought this Summer that I wanted to bare it all – literally. I wanted to do a very tasteful nude photo session – somewhere out in the desert.
I was comfortable enough with my body and the place that my head and heart was in to strip down to nothing.
I was going to use some of the photos in a post about baring it all. But how can I? I withold information all the time. I haven’t earned the right to post modest nudes and speak about exposing every part of me (in writing, not the photos – that wouldn’t make them very postable would it?)
I used a photo in a post about ‘home’ that I edited. It was a topless photo I took myself. I wanted to capture the phase I was in of being free and naked – yet not completely there yet. The outside world was still … well, outside.
This is the original photo.
And it says so much about me.
I am comfortable in my skin, in comfortable environments.
And that’s not very brave. And it’s not very honest.
But it is my truth.
And if I can tell you that I’m not telling you everything, I think that puts me one step closer to baring it all.
I’ll keep searching.
Debauchery Soup 