Monday, September 21, 2009

24 1/2 hours

Saturday, 9:00pm ~ A wandering eye is cast upon an over sized Ziploc bag full of Blueface Leicester fleeces waiting too long to be washed. In a fit of whimsy, I decide Sunday is not just for Football and plan to scour said fleece. I retire early to read and doze to Brit-coms.

Sunday, 7:00am ~ Awaken. Realize the hour is still ungodly, roll over and resume sleep.

8:00am ~ Awaken again to TV chattering. Attempt to ignore TV through slitted eyes as Dirk randomly changes the channels. This activity gnaws at my sanity.

8:30pm ~ As Mental Serenity departs for the morning, I sense no amount of meditation could coax its return and head for the shower instead.

8:45am ~ Showered and fresh, I dress casual. No need for taffeta and tiaras when scouring wool.

9:00am ~ Hearing the staccato trumpeting of Sunday Morning, I remember we have an overnight guest which means cooking a decent breakfast. There is no cold, left-over pizza to offer.

9:15am-10:30am ~ Waffles made from scratch. Ian and guest return to the realm of X-Box 360 Live. Tom arranges a movie date. Bennie arranges hang time with a friend here. Dirk makes vague plans to install tub spout #2. I clean up and make room in the sink for the planned wool washing while listening to WAMC.

10:30am ~ It's delightful to find, after ignoring a fleece for a year, photos of the contributing sheep. From the Wild Apple Hill Farm in Hudson, NY, I had procured 1.6lbs of Sheep #318 Alisa and the same weight of Sheep #239, sadly unnamed. (I suspect his name is now "Chops.") Skirting wasn't necessary as the fleece was blessedly free of dung tags. Heaps of delight, I begin drawing the bath and admire the crimp and color of Alisa.

11:00am-4:00pm ~ Various events occur. Dirk continues moodling about in the downstairs bathroom. This is punctuated by Pre-Game viewing. The punctuation resembles a long line of ellipses . . . Tom solidifies movie plans. The sleepover guest is granted more time to hang out until late afternoon. Bennie's friend arrives. Pre-Game ends. Game #1 begins. Although I've cleaned up after breakfast, I break out more food and make quesadillas. All the while, I've washed and rinsed four batches of #318 Alisa. Dismay occurs when I discover Alisa enjoys long walks in the park and wicked rolls in the dirt ~ it might take three sudsings to clean this fleece. One wash manages to soak for an unintended hour and a half while taking Tom to the movies, shopping for food and stopping in to see my mother who wasn't home. She attended a Psychic Fair. My brother commented maybe if I'd gone to said Psychic Fair I might have intuited her absence. Yoda, I am not. I spend time with sister-in-law and children in the park. Pick up Tom. Once home, I resume washing wool . . . and prepping for dinner. Dirk is asleep in the Big Ass Red Chair. I suspect the tub spout has yet to be installed.

4:00pm-7:00pm ~ Dinner preparation and service done. Again, I clean up. Food prep and dish clearing is all the while punctuated by continued wool sudsing; that punctuation resembles a semi-colon followed by several commas.

7:00pm ~ Sunset. The Flame is lit for my turn at Vigil. Freed from the bonds of Domestic Engineering and Hostessing, I return to the task at hand. Full force into the wool washing, Dirk requires help with the tub spout installation. Realizing the torch could indeed stand hands-free, he doesn't need my help after all. He'd waited nearly a full day in the Big Ass Red Chair for my help only to reach this realization. Luckily, the TV was filled with visions of full-grown men chucking and chasing pigskin on well-marked fields. I return to the tub undaunted and mildly miffed.

8:00pm ~ Game time for the third time today. The last little pile of Alisa eyes me smugly. Dirk has run out of solder. Again, I suspect no dermis will be lost neither nasally nor by posterior because, as mentioned, it's Game Time and the Giants are playing. The pile of Alisa grins broadly with the knowledge of another full fleece, the Nameless #239, waiting to be cleaned.

9:00pm ~ The Sheep #318 Alisa fleece is scoured, wrung and now drying in the Cat-Free Containment Zone (aka laundry room with a working door). My daughter, a keen observer, notes that it has taken me all day to clean this fleece. Nameless #239 waits another day . . . or three depending on the Daily Demands. I detect a pout as I turn off the lights and . . .

9:30pm ~ trudge off to bed wondering how women with less technology at their disposal ever got anything done. Terry Pratchett's The Fifth Elephant, gently transports me to Discworld. I bask in the iridescent glow of Sci-Fi/Fantasy and dream of elephants scouring wool.

1 comment:

Ruth said...


I go away for a bit and suddenly you're blogging like mad.

Does no one else in your home know how to cook, or rustle up at least a sandwich? Let 'em starve next time. Tell 'em you're feeling sheepish.

Regarding your question about Etsy, well, all I know is that I've bought a couple of things through the site and it seems to be popping up more and more. What have you got to lose?

I haven't forgotten about the sweater project I asked you about. I've been trying to get my head out of demolition and reconstruction and into personal adornment. I'm failing.