I really, really don't like to dry dishes. Even as a child, I'd volunteer to wash ... even if it meant wearing those ugly rubber gloves mother kept at the ready.
So, where's this going? Last year - in an effort to cut back on our electric - I began doing dishes by hand ... and sticking them in the dishwasher to air dry overnight. Out of sight, out of mind!
Except, if he's around Tom insists on grabbing a dishtowel and starts drying. I know. I should be tickled to pieces he wants to help. Probably, I'm just bummed he doesn't appreciate the efficiency of my plan. (*smile*)
Shortly after last month's anniversary I had to conclude, Tom and I are kitchen incompatible --
Remember what I said about Saran Wrap? He actually makes that satanic stuff work nicely! I like select-a-size paper towels ... him, Not.At.All. Following a recent burger-and-onions extravaganza, our kitchen smelled like "Bubba's Place." Wow. From the way he recoiled when I began spraying the Lysol this way and that, you'd have thought it was pepper spray. I looked to see he'd retrieved something called Fuzzy Vanilla. And cracked up.
Oh, there's more. Lots. But that's OK. Excepting weekends, we rarely eat the same things or at the same time. I'm curious how all this is going to work when I'm no longer working. One reader mentioned it was the size of their kitchen that first 'sold' her on their house. Me, I'm thinking smaller is safer!
Oh, there's more. Lots. But that's OK. Excepting weekends, we rarely eat the same things or at the same time. I'm curious how all this is going to work when I'm no longer working. One reader mentioned it was the size of their kitchen that first 'sold' her on their house. Me, I'm thinking smaller is safer!
* * *
Say, I really appreciate y'all's comments on my '67' things!
Still, I've got to quit putting certain things out in the Universe. I'll never forget one old preacher's analogy: "You keep saying s***, you're gonna keeping stepping in it."
See, a few days later I came out of work to discover one of my car tires was flat as a pancake. "No worries" someone offered. "Just drive it down to the maintenance yard and they've a compressor you can use."
Oh no, no, nooooo!
(I don't care to play the poor pitiful female card, but yep. That's just what I did.)
And my (non) love affair with the color blue? When Tom invited his buddy and wife over last weekend, we knew our desperately ratty patio chair cushions must go. (Eventually, I'd like to replace them with Sundrella fabric, but I'm not ready to re-mortgage the house to do so.) What an unpleasant wake-up call to discover what retailers - even WalMart - were asking. Then, walking into Fry's I spotted a big 'close-out' sign advertising chaise cushions for only $19.99. Of course, they were all blue, but I wasn't going to sneeze at the price.
Funny thing, I don't think they look all that bad.
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I'm so delighted it's October! What do you say, let's put out in the Universe, this going to be a good time!
Thanks for visiting my ordinary post about nothing, and have yourselves a great Monday!
Hugs from Phoenix,
Myra
