A few months back (prolly already told this tale) our "bug man" was checking our basement and a copperhead leapt out from beside the washing machine.
My toes have finally stopped curling every time I'm in the laundry room.
On a completely unrelated topic, I've begun hanging my laundry to dry on 4 long lines my dad installed in the big basement. (It's nicer outside, but I haven't hung a line yet.) I'm saving on electricity and enjoying the simple ritual of the clothespins, folding and such.
Sometimes they're wrinkly. But I'm still happy with this new habit.
I remember Mom had an old steam press...huge thing...remember standing beside her watching her feed wet white sheets through it, the smell of steamy bleach and detergent, how much I liked watching her work with her hands.
Always did like that best about her. Bread baking, sewing, etc.
Poor thing, now.
The other night I went by early and she was in the dining hall and the man beside us was in pain...I helped him reposition his arm but he was in a lot of pain and it distressed me. My mother looked at me and said, "It kills you not to be able to help, doesn't it." I nodded. She said, "I like that in you."
So that was a nice exchange.
And...the minister and his wife trimmed all the front hedges, and another man from church whom I'm sort-of-dating came over and helped me clear out the veggie beds (never got cool-weather crops in, will next year), mulch them with lovely leaf compost from the back woods (another former yard man had dumped bags of leaves back there--I was annoyed when I found them until I realized they had composted themselves into black gold), and dig up and mulch a very weedy area.
The front of the house looks great. My suburban dignity is restored!
I love my housemates. They are so kind and nice to be around.
I always whine about the onset of winter but October's not too bad, eh?
xo
Hops
