Oh, Laundry

 I didn't plan to do laundry today but when my dirty clothes didn't slide down the laundry chute but stayed at the top my fate was sealed.  It's annoying when there's just a bit too much laundry of one type so instead of one big load you have two smaller loads.  That happened with both the darks and the lights.  First world problem.

Today is the first day of autumn so I went out looking for an autumn photo.  I found this perfect red leaf posed on the grass.  Happy fall!

I cast on a Brangelina hat this morning and just kept knitting while tending to the laundry.  I got the four and a half inches of brim knitted and then the first few rounds of crown but my hands got tired after about six hours of knitting so I stopped.  This hat is for the Seaman's Church Institute Christmas at Sea program.  I try to knit a few things each year for the sailors and haven't done it this year so I'm hurrying through this hat.

I was happy to see that the Flicker came back to peck around in the grass today.  Sibley's bird book says that they eat ants.  It can have all of the ants it can find.

22 September--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

Even Raymond noticed.  “You will never get a peep out of Steve; he is tighter than Dick’s hatband,” he said to her after watching her try to get him to talk to her for nearly a week. 

“Why not?  Does he not like girls?” 

Raymond chuckled. 

Fay kept talking.  “And who is Dick and what does his hatband have to do with it?  What is a hatband anyway?” 

Raymond roared with laughter at that.  “You know, Fay, I have no idea who Dick is.  It is an old saying that usually referred to someone miserly, you know, cheap.  But a hatband is the leather or vinyl band inside the crown of a hat that sits on your head.” 

“Oh.  Well, what do you know about Stevie?” 

“He used to work for me at the mill.  He was in charge of the lab, did quality control tests and developed uses for the waste products that in reality made more profits for the company than all the paper did.  His job was keeping secrets then and I am sure he has not gotten any more talkative since he retired.” 

Fay squinted down the length of the building at the solitary figure.  “He seems kind of young to be retired.” 

“He is.  He must have gotten an inheritance.  He marched into my office about ten years ago and slapped his letter of resignation on my desk. When I asked him why he was leaving, he said he was finished working and did not need to give me another reason.  I reminded him of the agreement he had signed not to go to work for our competition for five years after leaving us.  He laughed at me and told me he was done with corporate America.  He was going to write.” 

“What is he writing, do you know?” 

Raymond shook his head.  “I asked him what he intended to write, and he just shook his head, he said he had always written and now he could afford to stay home and write all the time.  He worked his last month, cleaned out his desk, and left.  He gets a little pension check from the mill, but I know he is not old enough to collect Social Security yet, so I suppose he had a nice bundle saved or invested to still be at it without working.”  Raymond looked around to make sure he was not overheard.  “Let me know if you find out what he writes.  I will, uh, buy you a burger.” 

Fay flapped her hand at him.  “Oh, go on with you.  For cripes sake, Raymond, I work in a diner; I can get a burger whenever I want one.”  She walked around the end of the counter to wait on the couple who had just come in.  “But if I do find out, I will still tell you.”  She winked at him like they had a pact, picked up the coffee pot and crossed the room to the newcomers. 

From then on, every time she had the barest excuse to walk toward Stevie she did.  She would wear her quietest shoes and try to creep up on him, but he was too alert.  She could not get to within ten feet of him before he would flip to a blank page and glare at her.  After about a month of playing cat and mouse with him, Fay lost patience.  One morning she waited until he had all his papers spread out on the table before she carried the coffee pot his way.  She picked up an extra mug from the next booth, poured his coffee, slid into the bench seat across from him, poured herself some coffee and put down the pot.  He stared at her without speaking as if he could not believe his eyes. 

Today's toss was one of those old metal meat grinders that you clamp on the edge of the table.  I drove down to the homeless shelter this morning to drop off the four cases of shampoo and one of disposable razors that were last week's tosses.  The lady was happy to get them.

--Barbara