I've had this blog page open for most of the day, intent on writing...something. I was pretty sure I'd have the what figured out by now, but meh...what can I say? My day's aren't all that interesting.
First thing out of bed I had a ton of emails to handle for the Midnight Moon Cafe, then it was on to kidlets and doglets, and getting the house ready for Thanksgiving. By that, I mean ready for having 3 guys loose in the house for several days. Bless their hearts, they don't pick up a single thing after themselves. Ask the sock gnomes.
Anyway, I started at the far end of the house, and thoroughly cleaned my way back to the front of the house. Exhausting work, because...um, I've been writing, instead of cleaning. At least the laundry hasn't gotten out of hand. It probably would if it weren't for Sassie. I used to keep a basket in the hall for all the guys to walk past and drop their dirty clothes in, but she would go in there and find a choice (and usually stinky) sock or some of hubby's work jeans covered in charcoal medium (he's an industrial filter guy), and then haul it to the living room couch and shred it.
Yes. I do mean shred it. And if she can't shred it - she bites chunks out of it. Like hubby's jeans. One long ago RWA weekend, hubby bought 3 brand new pairs of jeans, and after stripping off the tags, tossed them into the hall basket for me to run through the wash. I was in Bossier all day, and once I came home, I found a pair of jeans in a dark corner of the dining room. I didn't realize they were brand new jeans at first, because when I picked them up, they had these localized holes bit all over them. Imagine Charlie Brown's ghost costume as a pair of jeans. Um, yeah.
|Charlie's Ghost. Symbolic of hubby's jeans.|
Well, I checked them over, and because Sassie Dog literally ripped chunks out of them, and the holes were frayed, like you'd expect out of vintage jeans. Anyway, I was debating throwing them straight in the trash because the holes were weird, just round, random holes in the legs and near the waist band. I couldn't tell if the jeans had been like that a long time, if they were Junk Jeans - you know, for painting the house and such. So, I went ahead and ran them through the wash. Come Monday morning, hubby was getting ready to work and having kittens because he couldn't find a specific pair of brand new jeans. [It was four in the morning, I was having a hard time following what the heck he was talking about.]
All the laundry was clean, so I send him to search the dryer. A minute later he comes back with the holey ghost of his formerly nice, brand new jeans. What can I do? I just rubbed my hands over my face. "Take it up with your dog." Roughly translated in our house, that means: Oh, well. Kthnxbye.
So that is why all the laundry goes directly in the washer now without regard for color or fabric. It's why some of my white socks have a red cast, and some a blue tinge. It's why there are white fuzzballs all over Oldest's black t-shirts. [You didn't hear that from me.] But, it's also why I don't have a 10 ft mountain of laundry to sort through, so I guess some lint balls and sock casualties are acceptable. Besides, I'm still wearing flip flops 99% percent of the time. Come the end of December, I might have a new opinion about mismatched and discolored socks. If things change, I'll let you know.
Now that you know that scintillating tale of sock sluttery, dryer lint, and jeans abuse... I shall thusly update you on the grand scheme that is my vampire novel. Are you ready?
I have reached the midpoint of the vampire book. *confetti, rejoicing, does the Rocky jog of triumph*
Okay, I kept looking and looking for a Rocky Balboa victory jog giffy, but the searches kept giving me stuff for the Rocky Horror Picture show. Oh well. You take what you can get.
So, now I only have...what? Another 35 thousand words to go? Breathe. Small steps and I'll get there. It's what I keep telling myself, anyway. Happy Tuesday, everyone!