A Big Ole Pile of Shift Work

I had a totally awesome rockin' day today.

I had a ton of work waiting for me, getting back-logged, and was able to go into work today (Saturday) because Jeff had the day off. At the last minute, I asked my eight-year-old son, Chris, if he would like to go to work with me. I knew no one else would be at the shop, and I hate being there alone. I had six windows to do, which could mean up to twelve hours.

He agreed, and we got him properly outfitted with stuff to do if he got bored (Nintendo DS, stuffed animals, markers, you get the picture.)

I figured he MIGHT last until around lunch time, playing his video game most of the time.

That boy clocked almost six hours actual work time, for which I am paying him, and never even took the Nintendo DS out of his pocket. He really worked, starting with finding boxes for me to pack the windows in once they're clean. Then he actually helped me clean the windows, and he is good at it.

When it was time to break for lunch, I had hoped to take him to a regular restaurant, but he REALLY wanted to go to McDonald's (ours has recently redecorated, and looks almost like a bistro!), so I gave in. He must have thanked me eight times for taking him to McDonald's. He said next time, I can take him to any restaurant I choose, as long as it's not a pizza place, because they are Daddy's competition.

We cleaned 5 out of the 6 windows (we're going in tomorrow for another hour) in record time.

If anyone is wondering why it took so long to clean these windows, I clean stained glass and leaded windows. It takes a lot of detail work, and a lot of razors.

I'm so proud of my boy!

Welcome (back)

Hello, my friends. It's been a long, long... long, long, long, long LONG long time.

Has anyone ever taken a 2-1/2 year break from blogging?

It's been a tough few years, but let's call it character-building, shall we? Here's what finally brought me back to the world of blogging. I need to talk about laundry.

This was brought about by a conversation among friends about intervention, waste, and laundry.

I need to point out at this juncture that when I talk about "conversations with friends," I am more than likely talking about discussions I have participated in on an internet message board with people I have never met, but have become familiar with the identities they put forth. You'll need to remember that for... ever.

SO. Someone asked ("Pee Jay," if you must know) what your personal episode of the TV show "Intervention" would be. "Mevin" asked what you are wasteful about. Another woman (to whom I closely identify aside from the fact that she is very, very neat, who has three children close in age to my own)asked about laundry habits.

It dawned upon me that the answer to all three questions for me was laundry. Okay, in retrospect, that doesn't answer the woman's question, but I was able to participate. Yay!

Having three young children, of course I do laundry quite often. If not every day, certainly every day. The wasteful part of my laundry problem is two-fold. The Intervention part comes in with the fabric softener. I used to abuse liquid Downy. I had a three-cup-a-load habit. When money got tight, I weaned myself off of that onto dryer sheets, but even then, I had to have a minimum of two new sheets per dryer load, added to all the previously salvaged sheets from prior loads. It's foggy, but I think at one point I had upwards of fifteen dryer sheets in the dryer.

But it didn't stop there. Here's where the wasteful part comes in. I like to fold the clothes warm out of the dryer when it buzzes so they don't have wrinkles (I don't iron, and BELIEVE ME that is an entire post on its own.) Having three young kids, the timing doesn't always work out that way. I have been known to re-dry clothes four times hoping to hit the wrinkle-less lottery. Dominion Power approves of my methods, and the neighbors never complain of the smell of fresh laundry coming from my vents!

This has been pretty wordy for a surprise re-entry into the blogosphere. I'll try to tone it down in the future.

Dang.

Gotta turn the dryer on for another half hour.