Susan Writes

Once in a Lifetime

Posted on January 23, 2014 by susanrray

There is only one time in a girl’s life that it’s okay for her to show off her underwear. And that’s where my young Grand is right now. When Husband arrived home from work, I said to Elaine, “Pop’s home. Let’s go to the door and greet him.” She ran to him, hugged his knees, and said, “Pop, have you seen my panties?” And then she pulled down her pants just enough to reveal her pink and white underwear. Elaine is learning to use the potty.

What was my biggest clue that this young Grand was ready to be potty trained? One day while visiting with me and when she wore a diaper, she stood still for just a few seconds and then asked, “Gran, do you have a clean diaper?” Then she ran to my bedroom and lay on the floor – the exact spot where I’ve laid her when I’ve changed her diaper for the past 2-½ years.

When a child is potty training, it’s also a time that potty talk is allowed. By both children and adults, and we really should be discreet. While Daughter and I ate lunch at a restaurant, I asked, “So is she pooing or just tinkling in the potty?” Daughter chuckled, put her finger on her lips, and said, “Shhh, Momma.” Then I realized that the people at a table beside us probably heard me. Certainly not normal mealtime conversation. I would’ve apologized and explained, but they never made eye contact while Daughter and I whispered about Elaine’s progress. A few days later, Elaine’s older sister and I discussed the process of potty training, but that’s a conversation I’ll never share.

My Grand’s parents are the real teachers. I follow their directions and am amused by the funny things Elaine says. I helped her get situated on the potty, walked out of the bathroom, and then I hear her chant. “Tinkle, where are you? Oh, tinkle, where are you? Come out, tinkle!” Eventually, it did. When I praised her she asked, “Gran, do you have a chocolate for me?” I’ll give my Grand a chocolate candy anytime to avoid changing her diaper.

Teaching a child to go to the bathroom in this day and time is drastically different from the days when my own two children were toddlers. Thank goodness! Then age two was the set-in-stone age when any sensible mother had her child out of diapers. Cloth diapers – that had to be rinsed, soaked, washed, dried, and folded. Maybe all that work was the incentive for us mothers to encourage our children to use the potty. Now we know that children don’t awake on their 2^nd birthday with enough control of their bodies to feel the urge and make a beeline for the bathroom. I remember wiping many messes off the floor and, looking back, I’m not sure who was in training. My child or me? I even set an alarm clock for every hour to remind myself to take my child to the bathroom.

I’ve learned through the years that there are as many ways to encourage a toddler to use the potty, as there are squares on a roll of toilet paper. And one way is pretty panties. Elaine is so proud of hers. This, too, shall pass.

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Filed under: Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things | Tagged: diapers, Potty Training | 2 Comments »

Lost Phone or Lost Mind?

Posted on January 15, 2014 by susanrray

While talking on the phone with JoAnn, my college roommate, I said, “Let me read you what our friends sent in texts yesterday.” JoAnn’s phone doesn’t receive text messages. I continued talking as I walked around my house. “I’ll get my cell. You’ve got to hear Blondie’s news! Where is that phone? When are you going to get a phone so we can send you texts? I can’t find my phone. It’s not in my purse. Not charging. Not on my desk. Oh, I’m talking on it!” For the next five minutes, JoAnn laughed in my ear.

I really did that. I lost my phone while I held it in my hand. When I told my family and friends what I’d done, they shared that they’d done the same and more. Daughter said that when she discovered I’d left my cell phone at her house, she called me as I drove out of her driveway so I’d come back for it. My phone rang while she held it in her hand.

Marilyn said that her cousin’s phone rang while the two of them were shopping in a department store. Her cousin searched madly in her purse as it rang and rang, but she couldn’t find it. Finally, she quit looking and told Marilyn, “It’s not here. I must have left it in the car.” So how did she hear it ring?

Most of us have called a phone that we’ve misplaced and hoped that its ring would lead us to it. Jo admitted that she asked a drive-thru window bank teller to call her phone number while she held her purse up to her ear to see if it rang. That’s good customer service.

Lana said that she lost her glasses while they were on her face and lost her keys while holding them in her my hand. And her car has a mind all its own. It automatically turns toward her house even when she plans to go to the grocery store.

Judy washed a load of clothes without any clothes in the washing machine. Von bought liquid laundry detergent at the grocery store. Later that day after he’d loaded dirty clothes in his washing machine, he couldn’t find the detergent. He was upset and sure that the grocery store bagger hadn’t put it in his bags. At lunchtime, he opened his refrigerator and found the detergent. Right on the top shelf where he’d put it.

Kathy walked from her bedroom to her kitchen to take medicine. But then she couldn’t read the labels on the medicine bottles because she’d left her glasses on her bedside table.

Jo opened Belk’s door with her car key. She pushed the button on her car key to open her car door at the same moment that she stepped in the right spot that made Belk’s automatic door open. She wrote this message to me, “Crazier than a run over dawg! That’s what we are, sister friend!” Maybe.

Kathy said, “It’s good to know I’m not alone.” I agree. And you know what makes me feel even better? Most of these people are at least twenty years younger than me. So my age has nothing to do with the fact that I lost my phone in my hand? Right?

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Friends | Tagged: losing my mind, lost glasses, lost keys, lost milk, Lost phone | Leave a comment »

One Word for 2014

Posted on January 8, 2014 by susanrray

A few days into 2014 and so far, so good. I’d thought about New Year’s resolutions, but hadn’t made any yearlong commitments. I’d just keep on keeping on and try to make better choices. Try to eat good food. Drink more water. Exercise more. Not waste time.

And then my niece posted a question on Facebook, a question that she’d heard discussed on a morning television talk show. What one word would you choose to motivate yourself through 2014? A word flashed in my brain and I immediately posted a comment. Intentional – that’s my word. Intentional with minutes, hours, and days. With prayer and praise. With a positive attitude. Intentional when I eat and drink. When I play and work. When I spend money. When I write and read and see and hear. Intentional.

It felt good to have a plan, all wrapped up in one word. And that day went as intended. With ceremony, I ate a piece of Christmas dried apple stack cake and drank a perfect cup of coffee. I watched the chickadees and cardinals peck seed from our birdfeeder. Throughout the day, I consciously followed my intentions.

That night was weekly family supper night at our house and afterwards one Grand would stay overnight. The next morning would be Grand and Gran time. Except this night, two Grands would spend the night. Lou, age 6, and Elaine, her 2 ½ year old sister. Lou would sleep in the bed where she always sleeps at our house. Elaine would sleep in a crib in the same room. We’d eat breakfast and play. Puzzles, painting, play dough.

At midnight as I lay awake between Elaine and Lou in Lou’s bed, I realized that my plan had gone haywire. Elaine had climbed out of her crib three times and I decided, while half asleep, that she and I should sleep with Lou. We slept, but not well.

While we ate breakfast, Lou asked, “Gran, do you have a bathing suit here for Elaine?” I didn’t. “Well, do you think this is a good day to swim at the Y?” I didn’t. Then Lou said, “I really wanted to practice diving underwater,” and I couldn’t say no to a morning swim.

Forget the puzzles, paint, and play dough, we were going swimming on a cold January day. An hour later, after we’d brushed hair and teeth and packed towels and dry clothes and gone to Elaine’s house to get her bathing suit and the three of us wore our bathing suits, we stood at the edge of the Y swimming pool. Lou said, “Watch me go to the bottom, Gran!” She jumped into the swimming pool and picked up a diving rocket from the bottom of the 4 1/2 foot deep pool. She stood and stretched her hand that held the rocket high over her head. Elaine and I clapped and cheered. “Way to go, Lou!” I said.

At that moment, a word flashed in my brain. Flexible – another word for 2014.

Intentional in play. Flexible to change from puzzles, paint, and play dough to swimming. Intentional to eat dried apple stack cake. Flexible to change to a chocolate covered cream-filled donut. Intentional and flexible. I need two words for 2014.

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Grandchildren, Writing | Tagged: flexible, intentional, New Year's words, one word | 2 Comments »

Before the Memories Fade

Posted on January 2, 2014 by susanrray

Before the Christmas memories before fade into 2014 I must find my pencil and paper. You’ve probably already written down what you want to remember about this Christmas Season. Things that were said and done. Quiet moments. Chaotic, loud times.

“Hi, Gran!” said two-year old Dan as he ran toward me. He’d travelled with his family in cars and an airplane, and he brought me wonder gifts. A two-arm, around-the-neck hug and slobbery kisses. Dan’s mother lifted his six-month-old brother, Neil, out of his car seat and laid him in my arms. And then their cousins, our four Grands who live across town, and their parents came. I wish that time had moved in slow motion and I could hit replay for those few days.

Husband’s electric candy train under the Christmas tree was derailed after a few trips around the track. The candy was too tempting for Dan and Elaine, both two years old, so Husband parked the candy cars high on a shelf until after meal times and when more than one adult could supervise.

Cousins Dan and Elaine are typical toddlers. They climbed onto a wing back chair seat at the same time, wiggled into opposite corners, and eyed each other. When he tried to hug her, she pushed him away. Later, as they stood side by side, they both picked up their new identical push toys. Never letting go of their own toy, they grabbed each other’s and screamed, “Mine!” Two toddlers, both were holding two toys.

Four-year old Ruth picked up a snow globe, shook it, and asked, “How do you turn this on?” Six-year-old Lou turned off the bubble light that was plugged into an electric socket. “Gran,” she said, “It’s been on a long time. The battery might die.” When decorating cookies, it’s still true that the more sprinkles, the better, and the more people, the more fun and mess.

While we opened gifts, Dan wore his daddy’s Christmas vest that I made about thirty-something years ago. Six-year-old Lou arranged her gifts in the order she wanted to open them – smallest to largest. David, age 8, put on his new Obi Wan Kenobi costume as soon as he unwrapped it and he wore it all day and the next. Paper, ribbon, boxes flew in the air! Little girls squeal. Little boys stomp.

A folded quilt covered floor space for baby Neil. He rolled, sat up, rocked on all fours, and scooted. He smiled and laughed, except when he was tired or hungry. And then the last morning, just before time to leave, he crawled! Lifted his right knee, moved forward, lifted his left knee, moved forward, and collapsed then onto his tummy. And he laughed when I clapped and cheered.

Our dining room table was full. Six adults and six children – three in high chairs. The first meal we sat around the dining room table that was decorated with red candles and a fresh green centerpiece. Those decorations were moved to the sideboard before the next meal. For our last meal together, we had a winter picnic. We dined on take-out pizza while we sat on plastic tablecloths spread on the floor, and we watched a Curious George movie.

I know I should be making New Year’s Resolutions, but I’m not ready. I need a little more R and R before tackling 2014.

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Filed under: Christmas | Tagged: Christmas memories, Memories | Leave a comment »

A Surprise Christmas Gift

Posted on December 19, 2013 by susanrray

While shopping at the Goodwill Store, I hear the crackle of an intercom and then a lady’s voice. “Is this on?” she said. I looked toward the checkout counter.

“Will the young man who looked at a TV and wanted it please come to the front?” the lady said. I looked around. No one walked toward the front. Without using the microphone, the lady turned to three other store employees who stood crowded around the counter close to her and said, “What if he doesn’t know who he is? Anything else I can say?” They talked among themselves, but I could only hear the lady who made the announcement.

“Will the tall young man who told someone that you wished you could buy a TV please come to the check-out counter?” she announced. “Think he’ll come now?” she said without the microphone. “Shouldn’t we go look for him?”

He was tall. Taller than six feet and slim. He walked in a slow, easy-going way with his chin tucked low as he approached the checkout counter. The Goodwill employees parted to make space for him. A TV sat on the counter. “This is for you,” the lady to the man. I couldn’t see his face or hear him. “No, really, it’s yours. A gift.” she said.

The employees clapped and laughed. One patted him on the back and all except the lady who’d made the announcement walked away. “Another customer brought it up here and said to give it to the young man who wished he could buy it. He paid for it,” she said.

The young man obviously said something and I wanted to walk closer and hear the conversation, but an audience would have been an intrusion. “All I know is he wanted you to have this TV and he paid for it and it’s yours. So Merry Christmas!” she said. He didn’t pick up the TV. “Yes, you can take it right now unless you have some other shopping. I’ll keep it right here till you’re ready to go.”

He wrapped his arms around the portable TV and picked it up. He walked a few steps away from the counter. “Oh, wait,” the lady called to him. “I forgot something. There’s money left over. The man said to give it to you.” He shook his head and walked back to the counter where he set the TV. “Yes, I’m sure,” said the lady. She laid some bills in his hand. With the back of his other hand, he wiped his eyes.

I hope the anonymous donor saw that tall young man as he walked toward the store’s door. He took long intentional steps and held his head high. And he was smiling. As he walked out the door, he dropped his head and shook it from side to side.

A surprise Christmas gift for one young man. A gift that was generous and kind. A gift that reminded me the reason we celebrate Christmas.

Merry Christmas from the Ray household to yours! May all your Christmas wishes come true. Look for the next Where We Are column on Tuesday, December 31^st.

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Filed under: Christmas, Gifts, Holidays | Tagged: Christmas, Goodwill Store, Surpise gift, television, TV | Leave a comment »

A New Christmas Tradition

Posted on December 11, 2013 by susanrray

We stacked Christmas gifts under our Christmas tree until three years ago when Husband came home with two big boxes a few days after Thanksgiving and said, “I bought us an early Christmas present!” An electric train. I never knew we needed a train.

This surprise gift was actually for our Grands. And prompted by our oldest Grand, David, who was five years old at the time. When he visited, he’d drag out the little wooden train set that our son played with when he was young. David connected the track pieces and pulled the rail cars around the track. Then he would take the pieces apart, create a different track, and while lying on his belly on the floor, he pulled those cars around and around.

The past two years, Husband has set up the electric train under our Christmas tree and filled the train cars with treats –our Grands’ favorite candies.

But now, as of last week, we have a new Christmas tradition. The setting up of the train. Our three oldest Grands bound into the living room. David, age 8, said, “Where’s the track? We need to get started.” His sisters Lou and Ruth, ages 6 and 4, went straight for the bags of candy. Husband suggested to David where to place the curved and straight track pieces. Lou ripped the top off a bag of peppermints and arranged the candy in a green train car. Ruth opened a bag of Dum Dums suckers and dumped them on the floor. The fun had begun!

But we were missing one Grand who needed to be a part of this new tradition. Dan is 2 ½ and lives an airplane ride away. That little wooden train set is now his and he spends hours making tracks and pulling the cars around and around just like his daddy and his older cousin did. And I wanted Dan to see his Pop’s electric train and his cousins setting it up. So through the magic of video communication, Dan’s daddy and I connected on iPhones.

Now I’m pretty good with video chat on a big computer when I sit still and watch and talk. But I need practice with Face Time. I heard Dan’s mother say, “I think your phone is on mute,” and “Can you take your finger off the camera?” And there’s a tiny screen, smaller than a postage stamp, that I was suppose to be able to see what I was showing Dan. Even with my glasses on, I couldn’t see that screen.

David moved around the Christmas tree connecting track pieces. Ruth poured bags of Hershey’s kisses, Smartees, and chocolate Santas onto the floor. Lou stacked candy in train cars. I pointed my phone all around the room to share the fun with Dan, but he wasn’t happy. He wanted to touch the train and eat a piece of candy. He wanted to be here.

The Grands here shouted, “Bye!” to Dan. Husband promised Dan that he could blow the train whistle and that his favorite candy, Dum Dums, will be on a train car when he visits soon.

Chaos? Yes. Mess? Yes. Making memories? Yes. Do it again? Yes.

Glad Husband bought the train? Yes. That’s how traditions begin. And there are reasons to create new traditions just as there are reasons to keep the old ones.

Filed under: Christmas, Christmas Tree Train, Holidays | Tagged: Christmas, Christmas tree train, Electric train | Leave a comment »

What Season is This?

Posted on December 4, 2013 by susanrray

A few weeks ago, my 4 ½ year old Grand and I were together in my van. While we waited for a traffic light to turn from red to green, Ruth and I admired the bright golden leaves on a maple tree. We talked about the many colors of leaves during the fall and that fall is also called autumn. Time for another fact. I grab teaching moments with my Grands.

“It’s fall now and next will be…?” I said.

“Christmas!” Ruth shouted.

“Christmas is a holiday. But you’re right. Christmas is in the next season. It’s winter. Does that make sense?” I said.

Ruth was seated directly behind me so I couldn’t see her face. Since she was silent, I guessed that she was thinking. The traffic light turned green and we’d travelled several blocks when my Grand said, “Well, Samuel calls the next season Christmas and Elsie calls it Christmas and I call it Christmas. Mommy and Daddy call it winter.” If you were four, would you agree with your older brother and sister or your parents?

The more I’ve thought about Ruth’s answer, the more it makes sense. These December days certainly don’t feel like fall. Golden leaves and orange pumpkins are long gone and by the calendar, winter begins December 21^st. So here we are with a few weeks that aren’t really fall and not yet winter. And it’s a time with activities all its own.

Christmas Season – a time to decorate. The only time of the year that we rearrange our living room furniture. That’s so our Christmas tree can stand front and center of the window with enough floor space for Husband’s electric train under it. The everyday decorative knick-knacks are packed away. Out come Christmas pillows, a manger and nativity, family pictures of past Christmases, carolers, red candles, boughs of green, gold ribbon.

Christmas Season – a time to shop. I shop more now than I do all the other seasons put together. Shop for gifts and things I didn’t know I needed until I saw them advertised at door buster prices. Shop at the local toy store, bookstore, kitchen store, bazaars, department stores, drugstores, online, wherever gifts are sold.

Christmas Season – a time for bells. The ringing of church bells, jingle bells, hand bells, Salvation Army bells. Bells on my mailbox, bell collection on my pump organ, bells tied to little girls’ shoelaces and hair ribbons.

Christmas Season – a time for mistletoe. One tiny sprig of green leaves hangs on the doorway between my kitchen and dining room to encourage hugs and kisses.

Christmas Season – a time to party. With friends and family and coworkers. With food and drink and presents. To play games and sing and visit.

Christmas Season – a time for good wishes. Husband and I have friends with whom we connect only at this time each year. Call me old fashioned – I like Christmas cards and family newsletters and pictures. And I like the shouts of “Merry Christmas!” across grocery aisles and parking lots.

Ruth is right. Winter doesn’t come after fall. Christmas does. Christmas Season.

Filed under: Christmas, Holidays | Tagged: Christmas, Christmas tree, season | Leave a comment »

Thanksgiving – Then and Now

Posted on November 27, 2013 by susanrray

I stood at the corner of Mom’s dining room table. Mom and Dad, my two aunts and uncles, and my grandparents sat in ladder back chairs around that drop leaf cherry table. We children – my brother, my two boy cousins, and I – set our plates on the table corners and as the food was passed we spooned it on our plates. And we ate at the linen covered card table just an arm’s length from the big table. Thanksgiving, when I was a kid.

Mother and her two sisters took turns hosting holiday meals and they did it with style. Best china and crystal and silver. A starched white tablecloth and matching napkins. A fall centerpiece. And these three ladies were good cooks.

The menu rarely changed. Turkey, dressing, giblet gravy, green beans, creamed corn, lima beans, sweet potato casserole, jellied cranberry sauce, relish tray, rolls, pumpkin pie, chocolate pie, sweet tea. All homemade, from scratch, except for the bake and serve dinner rolls. Mom, as the hostess, cooked the turkey and dressing, and all three sisters stirred and tasted and seasoned the gravy to get it just right. Aunt Doris made pies. Aunt Nell made the relish tray and lima beans. The vegetables – home grown beans and corn – taste the same no matter who cooked them. Sweet potatoes topped with melted marshmallows.

After we ate, the women gathered in the kitchen for the clean-up ritual. Out came plastic containers to divvy up the leftovers. Enough for each family’s meals over the weekend. Mom’s and my aunts’ talking and laughing and sharing secrets entertained me, and I willingly dried the dishes just to be close to them. The clean up was finished when I crawled under the table to move its legs so that both leaves could fall, and it was moved back against the wall.

When my generation married and had homes and children, Mom and my aunts passed on the honor of hosting Thanksgiving. We’ve sat at many different tables as my family grew. And our menu expanded. Cousin Carolyn’s whipped potatoes and green congeal salad. Cousin Janie’s cherry salad. Sister-in-law Brenda’s sweet potato casserole with a crunchy topping. My cranberry salad.

Tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day, Husband and I will sit at that same cherry dining room table at Brenda’s home. Sit with her, my two cousins and their wives, and all our children and grandchildren who can be there. We’ll sit in those same chairs where my grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and my brother once sat. In prayer, we’ll remember them—those who are no longer with us.

We’ll fill Brenda’s best china plates with the same foods that have graced that table many Thanksgivings, and we’ll probably repeat some of the same stories that have been told since I was a kid. After we eat, we women will gather in the kitchen with take-home containers in hand. We’ll clean up the kitchen, and then one of the children will crawl under the drop leaf table to move its legs so it can be moved against the wall.

I’m thankful that Mom and my aunts created Thanksgiving traditions. And it makes me happy to celebrate with family around the same table where I once stood and filled my plate. Back when I was too young to sit at the big table.

Filed under: Family, Food, Thanksgiving | Tagged: Cherry table, family, food, Thanksgiving, Tradition | Leave a comment »

11-22-1963

Posted on November 21, 2013 by susanrray

November 22, 1963

Algebra II class. Pickett County High School. That’s where I was on Friday afternoon, November 22, 1963. Mrs. Brock, my teacher, erased the green chalkboard where she had demonstrated how to solve one problem, and we students copied it onto our notebook paper. Yellow dust swirled around Mrs. Brock’s desk that set at the front and center of the classroom. We students were to solve the next thirty problems.

Mrs. Brock, the math teacher for Algebra I, Geometry, and Algebra II, got her gold lipstick tube out of her desk drawer, removed the top, rolled the bright red lipstick up, and while looking at us students, she coated her lips. Three quick swipes. Top lip, middle to each side; bottom lip, left to right. I’d watched this routine for the past 2 1/2 years during math classes. Next, she’d adjust her slip straps and stand. And then, while we students kept our heads down and yellow pencils moving, she’d march between the rows of students’ desks. Thirty desks, six in a row, five rows, all in straight lines.

A loud knock on the classroom door startled everyone in the room. Mrs. Brock threw her lipstick tube in her desk drawer, slammed the drawer shut, and walked quickly to the door. Mr. Hassler, the school principal, motioned for her to meet him in the hallway. He closed the door.

Within minutes, Mrs. Brock came back into the room, quietly closed the door, and walked slowly to her desk chair and sat down. She opened the top drawer of her desk, got out her lipstick, and swiped it across her already red lips. And then she just sat there. Back erect, staring toward us students. My best friend and I made eye contact across the room and giggled. We brushed our hands along our shoulders. Did Mrs. Brock forget to adjust her straps?

The classroom was silent. If we students needed help as we did our math assignment, we raised our hands and Mrs. Brock came to our desks. During the next few minutes, no one raised a hand, and Mrs. Brock didn’t march between the rows of desks. And then I heard the crackling sounds of the school intercom.

In a few short sentences, Mr. Hassler, announced that school would dismiss early. President John F. Kennedy had been shot while riding in a motorcade in Texas. He had been taken to a hospital. Students who had driven or walked to school should get their things out of our lockers and leave immediately. Students who rode busses should stay in their classrooms until the busses arrived.

Mrs. Brock nodded, as if to say that she’d heard the announcement, and it was okay to leave the room. The hallways were quiet as I walked among classmates to my locker, gathered my books, and left the building.

I walked alone across the school parking lot. It was a short, five-minute walk home. When I opened the back door, I heard Mom rushing from the den to the kitchen. She put her arms around me and held me tightly. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet with tears.

When I think back to 11-22-63, I see myself as a high school student in a mental video of a normal school day that ended with frightening news. And after Mom’s hug, the scenes that follow are blurry and confusing. Just as they were 50 years ago.

Filed under: 11-22-1963, JFK | Tagged: 11-22-1963, Kennedy | Leave a comment »

One Load at a Time

Posted on November 13, 2013 by susanrray

“I’ve got to get home. I’m doing laundry today,” I said to Daughter as I left her house.

“Oh, you’re doing both loads for the week on the same day?” Daughter replied with her head tilted and a teasing smirk. She’s the mother of four children, ages 8 and under. Children who play on dirt piles, climb trees, ride bikes, and create pictures with markers. Her laundry is never finished. I remember those days, with two young children. Now, my laundry basket holds dirty clothes for just Husband and me.

Yes, we have automatic washers and dryers. Doing laundry is easy compared to washdays of olden times. But think how many times we handle shirts and pants. We carry, sort, treat stains, load the washer, unload the washer, load the dryer, unload the dryer, fold, hang, put away. And yet we roll all that into simply “doing laundry.” Ironing is a whole separate chore.

As I’ve mindlessly sorted and loaded and folded, I’ve pondered.

About socks. There was a time that I kept a basket, right beside the dryer, for unmatched socks. I didn’t waste time searching for one short white athletic sock or one black dress sock. When the basket overflowed, I emptied all the socks onto the floor and challenged my family to find matching pairs. I’ve never understood what happens to missing socks. Does the washing machine really eat them? Two black socks in. One out. The other, never seen again.

About folding. Don’t washcloths that have been tossed in a basket wash just as well as ones that are folded in half and then thirds? Folded underwear looks orderly in a drawer, but I promise it wears just the same when it’s thrown into that drawer. When I was teacher and our children were middle school age, any time that I was home, the washer and dryer were going. But the folding and putting away… there were times that it never happened. Some clothes went from the clean clothes laundry basket (unloaded from the dryer) to the body.

About stains. I admit I’m not good at removing stains. I can get rid of grass stains, but any stain that no one knows how it got there; I’m not good with those. If a prewash spray doesn’t do the trick, I hope no one notices or I pretend surprise when a friend points out a dirty spot on the front of my blouse. I’m beginning to think that my friend Carol has the right idea. She says that she chooses multi-colored blouses with designs so when she drops food, it blends in, and if it leaves a stain, that’s okay.

My friend Beth has two young children and a full time job. I like her philosophy that she shared on Facebook: “Had to fold laundry before work since there doesn’t seem to be any other time to do it. Just sorting thru life, one load at a time.”

Doing laundry for a family of two or four or six. Doing two loads a week or two loads a day. All we can do is one load at a time.

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Filed under: Clothes, Everyday Life | Tagged: laundry, washer and dryer, washing clothes | Leave a comment »

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