One Less Shirt To Wash

You know, there are whole workbooks you can buy these days on developing "scissor skills" for your preschooler to be sure their snipping will be up to social standards. I think we have this particular skill covered in our preschool here at Chez Armstrong as Nib so easily demonstrated here.

Curved lines? No problem. He's got it down. Two years old and he's a crack shot with a pair of snips and Mommy has less laundry too! Forget those chi-chi workbooks. Who needs 'em?

The Magnolia, And It's Guises

When we were in South Carolina last week.....Did I tell you that we went to South Carolina last week? We did. It was wonderful. Charleston is a beautiful town and I liked "The South" more than I thought I would although I'm still quite happy to be a Yankee girl.

We went down to visit my sister Lockbox. Isn't she cute? She's perky and be-curled and tans well and is generally four shades of darling.

Anyhow, all that to say....when we were in South Carolina, I had my first real encounter with the storied Southern Magnolia and I couldn't get over how striking it is. I feel like it's sort of an amazing Lego production...this stunning thing made out of all these curious parts. Check it out:

There's the breathtaking, (and scented I might add) blossoms and shining leaves....

 Then these funny centers that rise up out of the center of each blossom. Trippy, eh?

And the stamens which look exactly like a buch of strike anywhere matches scattered on the ground under the tree. I love the hilarious irony of that look-alike.

And then when the blossom finishes the petals fall and turn this beautiful fawn brown, and they look and feel exactly like suede leather! So crazy! A had to drag his wacky plant geek of a wife away from the tree. I could have looked at it for hours. I love the crazy bits of the outdoors.

House Quirks

As far as I am concerned, an old house isn't worth diddly unless it has quirks. The more mysterious, humorous or confusing the better. Nothing enhances the idea of a place having a story more than a few unexplained bits and bobs.

Here's a tour of some of the things that make me scratch my head and wish the walls could talk around our "new" abode. If you can solve any of the mysteries, please speak out! I'd love to know whatever I can.

Whaddya think this doohickey is on the outside wall of the kitchen|? It's maybe a foot square or so.

Here's a little peek under a window sill where people re-paint less carefully. You can see at least the last two layers of paint the house wore before the current, white trim color. There used to be a lot of that mint green color all over, inside and out...all the trim.

There are two of these big "there once was tape on the wall" gummy residue x's in the master bedroom. Wonder why.

I am also curious about these little burn marks in the upstairs wood floor. They look the same size and shape as the radiator feet except they are in the middle of the room which doesn't make a lot of sense.

I have deciphered that this nubbin in the top of the kitchen door-frame means that there used to be a swinging door there.

What do you think this is? It has a little lever on the side there that can move up and down. The whole box is maybe four inches by three inches or so.

I'd guess smoke detector except it is older than one ought to be and has been painted over several times...now quite melded to the wall.

And that concludes our tour of the first round of "House Quirks." Thank you for joining us, please tune in next time to see a strange hole in the floor, a little button on the wall and an antique bottle from the basement.

My dishwasher is so clean, you can eat out of it!

Those, folks, are the two cleanest peas on the planet. They've been through turbo rinse and heated dry, a swish of Jet Dry and a whole lot of hot water and cheerily presented themselves to me this morning when I opened the machine. Bing! Here we are! Bright and shiny! The world's cleanest food.

Poetry Friday: A Laundry Poem

Today, a laundry poem that I chuckled while writing, because I am working on my own mountain between attacking the last of the last of the moving boxes. And we all need a little touch of comic relief + heroism now and then, don't we? Sometimes it is just the thing.

Joan of D’ark and Dirty

Laundry is the great monster

Mommy wrestles; her eternal foe.

Every day, long tentacles flailing from the

Hamper, dripping ooze in the form of

Socks and spotted onesies, by the pound.

She hacks at it, vigorously sorting its many limbs

Into piles: whites, darks, reds.

She rises periodically from the latest fray,

Ceremoniously mounting the stairs,

A badge of crisp pillowcase on her arm.

She strategizes the endless new advance,

Not faltering in the face of the grim smells

Of covert hand grenades the enemy leaves

Moldering in the depths of the diaper bag.

We are polished, lest the monster take our very skins

And admonished sternly of his wily ways

She sprays over us her protective elixirs:  

Tide (jumbo, extra concentrated)

And Shout, in little rhythmic squirts.

Laundry sometimes roars and beats Its chest

Rattling the floorboards with the throaty,

Conquering cry of a monster that has

Boldly taken our last dish towel to his bowels.  

But, Mommy rallies with a Monday morning war cry.

There is a great clanging of machine lids and

The sound of lusty Patsy Cline yodeling from the basement

And before we know it, Laundry is only a simpering

Trio of washcloths and a single pair of underwear

Slinking there behind the dryer hose.