I can’t quite believe I’m about to do this…
I am going to talk about my laundry…(there’s a little voice in my head saying “I really wonder AT you, Laetitia” … could it have been Mrs Vetch? Spoils of Poynton? Is that her in there?
I went to a gardening press event recently. It was lots of fun (if you like gardening, and gardeners).
Anyhow, I was given this labelling thingy from Brother (they said they didn’t mind if nobody reads my blog…they WANTED me to have it…They were also frightfully apologetic about it being sans batteries (SO don’t care – Thank you very much Brother!)
It’s meant to be for labelling your plants and seeds (fat chance of that…I’m too much of a haphazard gardener).
The past couple of weeks my house should have had a red cross on the door. Babety has been ill, and up all night. We cannot go out to see friends because we might be CONTAGIOUS …and of course nursery is out of the question. My adored nanny, who gives me several hours off a week, is also sick as a dawg.
I have proper, exciting amounts of work to do (not mothering work, or housework…which is totally WORK, but fun, scary, career type work. Sick children don’t let you do fun, scary career type work….they need you firmly there…just focused on that hot little head.
I suppose I became a tad deranged – worry…lack of sleep…too much chatting with NHS direct…but what can I say, I was stuck indoors. I did something frightfully strange. During the fleeting moments when I had time to myself…
I arranged my linen.
I should have been catching forty winks, or meditating, or something…
But I arranged my linen.
I blame this machine thingy. It makes these lovely labels, that stick to anything, with print that is indestructible (hence the gardening angle). I am hooked. I now have an urge to label EVERYTHING. I think I am going to label the Hunk.
Okay, now I am going to tell you how I arranged my linen, so if you are baulking already then, well, go somewhere else for a bit.
Everything is arranged into sets of linen, (rather than grouping like with like) and then it’s all put inside one of the pillowcases*. Then there are neat(ish) piles of extra sheets for when I’m feeling slatternly and don’t want to wash the whole lot.
…a perfect, boring exercise for my addled, flu-ridden brain.
I am disgustingly excited about not having to unfold and re-fold three or four fitted sheets to get the right size one. I am also thrilled to bits that I will never, ever have to do it again.
*I got this idea from Martha Stewart, whose cavernous website is my guilty, secret pleasure. This is where I go to get lost when I feel anxious or overwrought…to ogle a sanitized, perfect life, where even the garage is colour-coded and you KNOW where you left the calpol (why, in the first aid cabinet of course…I don’t have a first aid cabinet..I have bottles of half-empty out-of-date calpol sitting in amongst the vinegar, the biscuit cupboard, under the bed)….One day….one day x