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Musings from the Laundromat: Laundry Lady’s Absence & the Gadfly edition.
My Laundry Lady isn’t here.
(She does have a name – I just try to keep my ‘characters’ somewhat anonymous.)
I asked the owner about her, knowing she’s had some health issues lately.
“Oh she’ll be back to mornings – she’s covering nights until I can hire someone new.”
Phew!
But strange isn’t it when someone or something that is a part of your routine, your life is suddenly not there.
Much like the divot I keep running my tongue over after having broken my tooth Friday – there is a tangible feeling of absence.
I look forward to our Sunday mornings. I’ve been coming here for over 5 years now. 52 weeks a year. Over 260 mornings with my Laundry Lady.
Crap, if I think about it – I’ve spent more Sunday mornings with her than any one man other than my son. How’s THAT for an example of my ability to have a relationship?
Of course, there’s Glaucoma Man – who, was Chatty Charlie again this morning.
He compared someone in his RV park to a ‘Gadfly’ and proceeded to show me by example what that was.
He switched topics so quickly and so energetically that we (by we, I mean ‘he’) had covered almost a subject for every item I retrieved from my laundry baskets and placed in the washing machine.
(As I was typing that last paragraph, he visited my table to read me something.)
Let’s face it though, I’d miss him too if he weren’t here. Which, he is – again, showing me his new stun gun and telling me about his sniper rifle that he still has.
Good to know. Gooooood to know.
And suddenly I’m very glad I’m kind to him.
Musings from the Laundromat: Jurrasic nap, Horrific drink & Rey edition
It’s warming up in the desert. Today my car advised me it was 52 degrees on the way to the laundromat @ 7:30 a.m. Seems like only yesterday when I was reading ’32 degrees.’
I’m not ready for it to warm up yet! Nooooo!
Actually, my first stop was not the laundromat, but to the Redbox to return Jurassic World. I was one of the few on the planet that didn’t go see that one in the theaters.
My son and I got comfy and with bowls of food began the film. I should point out, that he’d already seen it.
Me: Ug. I hate seeing movies for the first time with someone who’s already seen it.
Nic: I haven’t seen it a long time …
*Moments into the movie*
Nic: Ok, Pause it … Remember this part.
Me: (Pause, roll eyes). Are you going to do this the ENTIRE movie?
Nic: No, no.
*Moments later*
Nic: Pause it! You know what I never noticed the first time?
Etc. Etc. Etc.
He needn’t have worried about giving me a play-by-play because I think I only saw 2/3 of it anyway. I fell asleep several times. (Sorry Star Lord.)
Earlier that day, Nic and I had gone grocery shopping.
Shopping with Nic always results in laughter – (and a bigger bill @ the checkout.)
This trip was no different.
Nic is quite the connoisseur of ‘unique’ beverages. $$$
He came across a fancy live probiotic, natural energy concoction and eagerly hurried off to purchase it after asking what aisle I could be found in upon his return.
I should have lied about the aisle.
Nic: Smell it.
Me: *standoffish glance*
Nic: It’s lavender and melon!
I acquiesced and gave the drink a sniff.
I wondered immediately 1) where was the lavender? 2) where was the melon? 3) why was it so fizzy and 4) if Nic could get his money back.
Nic: Take a sip!
So much was going through my head at this point – but mostly that I wanted to live. And then that if I DIDN’T take a sip, he was going to badger me for the balance of the shopping.
I sipped.
Now, have you ever left juice out and unrefrigerated and then accidentally sipped it?
Yeah.
This stuff tasted like prison hooch!
I gagged.
This was the beverage.
By the time we were checking out, we had two cashiers and one bag boy involved in the ‘dare’ of sniffing the drink.
The bag boy nailed it when he said it smelled like vinegar. One cashier told Nic to just down it. That wasn’t happening.
We ended up playing a game of ‘keep away’ with it the whole way home, and at home.
The bottle would appear sans lid in various places – like, my car, on the table pushed close to one of us, under the table and sneaked by each other’s noses.
We probably didn’t even need the movie, that ‘drink’ provided plenty of entertainment.
(I should probably apologize to the company now, I mean, I’m sure plenty of people stock up on their product and love it. It just wasn’t our cup of fizzy, fermented tea.)
OH! One more thing. I have a fish! Nic’s tropical fish had babies and a very brave and smart one managed to survive. I adopted the teeny tiny grey blob speck and named her Rey. (Nickname: Blobba Fett)
Here she is (Nic insists it’s a girl because of some fin thing? I’m trusting him on this one.) Get your magnifying glass out:
She’s in front of the blue thingy.
So there you have it! My weekend in a nutshell. Dryers are almost done so I’ll be bid you adieux and hope you all have a wonderful Sunday and a great week!
If you don’t see a post from me after this one … prime suspect is small & grey
I slept on the downstairs couch last night with a dog at my feet and a cat on my back (literally). I haven’t seen a human since Friday. One more night then I get to return to my little home.
It’s funny isn’t it? How quickly we miss our routine – our space and obviously our loved ones.
Why did I sleep on the couch? I was a little concerned that if I was too comfortable, I’d not hear my alarm. There’s an hour time difference between where I’m staying and where I work. I had to be up at O’Dark Thirty.
Another reason? The home is big and to be honest, I didn’t want to be upstairs in a bedroom and hear something creak or move in the night. lol. I figure if a serial killer was to enter the house, I’d be able to leap off the couch and to the closest weapon dispensary (the kitchen) if I stayed downstairs.
Turns out it would have been a little tough ‘leaping’ though as I was pinned down most of the night by Plucky. She’s … um, I’m trying to find a kind way to describe an overly affectionate, needy, clueless cat. She just will not take a hint. And as much as I adore her – I woke several times to her either a) on my bladder or b) with her nose on my lips as she perched on my chest. Thus why I turned onto my stomach to sleep.
The other felines are pretty relaxed.
But there’s the constant threat of one of them getting out. I lost TWO cats over the weekend. First time was Foo and it took FOREVER outside shaking the treat container to get him back inside. Lost him again the next day, but only briefly. And then Plucky. *sigh*
You see, Meesha, the pup, can open the screen door from the outside and god forbid I’ve gone to use the bathroom or in another part of the house when she decides to let herself back in. I found the screen open twice yesterday and had to do a frantic head count.
It’s a dance. The whole operation of the home is a choreographed dance.
And you’d better know all the moves – even if you’re sleep deprived from a night of attempted smothering.
Random (‘Packed full of Action and Emotion- said in movie guy voice) Tuesday.
A special Tuesday update for you – where I’ll share my blonde moment, my home inspection, my imminent matricide, my Cantina rock and my current non-merriness.
I rent. Today was my annual home inspection. I was to leave work @ noonish, herd Butters in order for the inspector to go about her work and then return to mine.
First things first, I removed a piece I wrote about my Nannie as it hurt a couple of people – but, it is fair to say I’m hurting too and needed an outlet. She’s currently in hospital and my mum is with her. Other than that being 90% of what I’m thinking about lately, comes the selfish: “I don’t have MY mum for Christmas” and “I don’t feel merry this Christmas.”
I called my dad tonight to tell him if he’s still in the country I would come over Christmas and cook dinner there.
“There’s nothing under the tree.” He said.
“That doesn’t matter. Mum would want this and we’re family.” I said.
He’s happy just grabbing a Christmas pizza, but I know for a fact my mum wants her pets and husband to have a family Christmas.
It’s all just creeping up in running shoes though.
Today I spoke to a work vendor who told me she was taking next week off.
“Oh! That’s nice!” I said.
“Yes,” she went on to say, “Christmas week off.”
Wait – WHAT?
Next week is Christmas week?!!
I have SO much to do – and everyday is filled with such uncertainty (as most days are I suppose.)
But trying to figure out who is going to be where and how to make the ones I love not feel so lonely on Christmas is driving me up a wall.
(Yeah, my first world problems again eh? Not knowing if we’ll be together – yet, I still have them. I have no room to complain.)
I DO have to go shopping. I DO have to get presents and put them under our tiny tree, and also my parents tree.
I love giving. Only wish I could give more. Feel useless here while my mum is living “Groundhogs Day” Get up. Go to hospital. Go to where she’s staying. Do it all over again.
SO! There’s that. All of that is just to make another point too – I certainly don’t feel with ANY spare time like making my ugly little vintage single wide into a castle for an inspector. So I hadn’t scrubbed every window cill or re-grouted anything. I honestly thought? “F*&% it, I’m one of the best tenants they have and this old thing is clean all the time. Take me or leave me.”
Let’s lighten it up a bit eh?
This morning – I was leaving for work and noticed it was 32 degrees outside. I actually noticed this BEFORE I decided “Oh my, my windshield is a tad dirty – I should wash it off.” And proceeded to spray and wipe.
Um.
I’m driving as I did this. And – hey, presto! I made ice! All by myself. And then felt foolish as other neighbors were pulling out of their driveways seeing my ice-pop of a windshield. And probably thinking, “How did we survive that ice storm?” *Sigh*
Onto the inspection. It went well. The lady has been the same one checking my cell (oops!) home for 5 years. She commented on Butters gaining weight – remembered the first inspection when Nic was making food in the kitchen (as he was today) and also told me (as Jim was still on the inspection card) “Oh honey, you’re so BEAUTIFUL, I can’t believe he would go.”
Insert lemon and salt here – because at the time, she was photographing my bathroom – yeah, that’s always fun, the intrusive photos – (I made sure this morning that my undies were not on the top of the laundry basket!) and I still have a photo of Jim and I on a shelf.
No, I’m not holding out hope of reuniting at this point, but I will always love him and the photo makes me happy.
But there’s that too. I miss him. This is a holiday where just – um – ‘suck!’ is happening. You can’t blame me for not sparking up the mini-tree at night.
Let’s skip straight to the ‘murder plan’. I’m back at work, and get an instant message from Nic:
Please know, I was only asking “For?” Because I wasn’t sure if he was just visiting – or spending the night – do I lock the door? Turn out the front porch light?
No, I’m really that nosey when it comes to Nic anymore.
Had an amazing weekend with him and his beautiful, wonderful, smart girlfriend … AND got to see Nic make her breakfast! Chocolate chip waffles and eggs (remember, this is the ‘kid’ I was terrified would outgrow me and how could I POSSIBLY live? lol)
One thing I AM excited about, especially with the few words I’m allowing myself to see about it – is Star Wars! I am avoiding ALL spoilers. Saturday I will be a quivering mess of nostalgia and excitement and at 10:30 my time, be sitting in a movie theater ready to have my mind blown by J.J. Abrams.
Back to the rock.
Here it is:
I instantly saw a certain Cantina band member in it. ^_^
So, life is bonkers. Life is odd. Life doesn’t take our plans into consideration – but … life is SO beautiful. And I’m so glad for the compassion my mum has, the job I have, the home I have, the things I see in rocks … the woman in my son’s life that isn’t me. I’m so grateful for forgetting to shop – because, the material side of Christmas is so … material. But, as I said, I’ll be doing it.
I’m grateful for my friends.
I’m grateful for all of you that take time to read this – and those who have told me I make a difference. And those who have encouraged me NOT to edit.
Just know, sometimes, it IS selfish to post something when others are hurting.
And I won’t forget that lesson.
xxxxxxxxxx Love you all.
Musings from the Laundromat: Pins, Pods and Cookie Tins Edition
“Take it Easy” is playing on the laundromat radio – which is apropos considering the mini OCD tantrum I just had in my head.
I got here early today. I did not want a repeat of last week. I was rendered completely discombobulated due to my tardiness. A laundromat hobo … with my cart and belongings, constantly on the move.
Today I have my usual spot and my items are in their usual machines.
When I arrived, after saying ‘hello’ to my laundry lady, I noticed a cotton candy haired older lady in an adorable pink jacket.
At first I wanted to put her in my cotton wool lined pocket with the rest of the adorable older folk I come across.
Not just because she was sweet looking and fluffy-haired – but bonus! She also looked like Muriel from Courage the Cowardly Dog.
So I’ve got a half-smile on my face and headed toward the coffee, having claimed my spot and ready for some caffeine.
On the way back, I spotted cotton candy hair lady’s cart.
In it – this:
I’ll admit (and probably partially due to the fact that I hadn’t yet ingested any of the coffee) I didn’t notice … and only further sighed at how adorable she was and how I was definitely adding her to my ‘sweet older person memory pocket’. THEN I noticed.
“Cloth’s Pins”
CLOTH’S pins???
I shouldn’t, but I hold older people to a higher standard. I expect the older generation to at least give that little wave of thanks that has become such a dying art, when I stop in a parking lot to let them cross in front of me.
I expect the older generation to say “thank you” which, has also become a dying art, when I hold a door open for them.
I also expect, that the older generation knows how to spell.
Prude. I know. If anything, the older generation has more of an excuse – perhaps she was pulled from school during time of war to help out at home. OR, maybe she grew up in a poor household and there was no money for school clothes or books. OR, perhaps she was one of many who came from a home that did not think it was important that the girls of the house even BE educated. Anyway, I could go on ad infinitum.
Bottom line, there are plenty of reasons to blow my unreasonable expectations out of the water.
But for some reason that little container bothered me.
She used a permanent marker for crying out loud!
AND – inside of the ‘cloth’s pins’ container?
Nope.
Laundry pods. *sigh*
For some reason THAT reminded me of THIS:
Only, with her container – there was no doubt. Those colorful laundry pods had their pod faces smooshed against the plastic. Definitely laundry pods.
Then again – maybe this whole inner OCD turmoil is all for naught. What if she used to keep pins in that container for cloths? Hmmmm….
I’ll go with that, and reserve her spot in my pocket.
Debauchery Soup 