There is an amazing amount of energy drawn from you when you have to run two washing machines for two days in a row.
Not the washing itself, of course, that’s why I use the machine, but hanging all of it on a clothesline, taking it down, sorting all of it. Normally I put on one or two machines on the weekends and let the clothes hang on the line a few days, no need to rush. But now I have a huge pile of laundry.
Why? Well, because we have been out traveling and I don’t want our home infested with little bugs which will cost great sums of money and discomfort to get rid of; if they are there, which I don’t know, but better be safe than sorry.
So I wash.
And wonder how much clothes we actually brought along.
And ask myself if it really was necessary to pack all underwear I could find, since we now didn’t have any clean underwear when we got home.
I so much want to sit down and write on The Power of Bitterness. I’ve read it through and it is the best I have ever written. I am rattling to keep working on it.
But there are sleeping bags to air, tent to clean and suitcases to empty and put away.
And bags with paint and clays and old photos from my grandmother’s estate reminding me that I should do something about the hobby-room downstairs which now has a minimum of visible floor and no table surface avalible.
And we should get started with changing the cabinet doors in the kitchen.
And that roof outside our front door.
And start yet another washing machine.