The Hall of Laundry

"Don't air your dirty laundry," the old saying goes.

Well, we air our CLEAN laundry.

This photo is actually missing one basket.

One of our refrains at home is, "How does everyone else do life?"

We're pretty organized and effficient. We really get a lot of "things" accomplished in the time allotted to us.

And yet, we find outselves chasing ourselves on many days.

By the time all the laundry is sorted, folded, and put away, the laundry bins are full.

How does this happen?

What typically happens is that, once we are on top of "things," another emergency happens or too much of life happens in one week.

Some weeks, I have a meeting every night after work.

Or we're juggling four doctors appointments in a single week and working late.

Or we spend an entire day in an emergency department and running back and forth to the hospital should a hospitaliztion occurs.

Sometimes other life "projects" take precedence

And sometimes, we get that rare day off when laundry and housework is the farthest from our minds.

Also, these laundry baskets are sitting right outside our laundry closet (not a room), which hasn't the floor space for a basket (or two or three or four).

So on a high laundry day, the clean laundry simply piles up until we can free up a moment to address it.

But you know what?

We always have clean clothes.

We never run out of towels.

And we always empty those baskets.

Short on Sleep, Long on Love?

Last night I pulled long night to make sure one of my adult sons, who is sick and had to pull a long shift yesterday and then drive forty-five minutes home at midnight, got home safely.

Both of us have an early rising today, me to work, and him in a day-long refresher class to renew a certification. So we were a couple of sleepy kindred spirits.

I did get some work done, so it wasn't a total waste.

And the house is clean, the third installation of Before the Blood is ready for Rebekah to give it a look-over and reupload, and I have (finally) have new shoes. This may sound silly, but Timothy threw my old gym shoes away at the store they were so bad, and I've worn a broken pair of flats for the last year. Don't ask.

The irony as I struggled to stay awake is that the caffeine kicked in by the time he made it home.

Yeah.

Tomorrow: an update on last Saturday's event.

Happy Monday, readers, writers, and vampire fans! :)

Photo by Timothy Baran

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: How to Sit in a Victorian Bustle

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

How to Sit in a Victorian Bustle

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: I Am A commodity

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

I Am a Commodity

I didn’t say it. My publicist, Dulcinea Hawksworth, did, about me.

I argue that my writing is a commodity, and she agrees with that, but also insists that I, too, as Bryony's author, am a commodity. Because I trust Dulcinea’s judgment, that’s why I’m at the mall with my mother and my daughter Rebekah, 17, when I should be huddled under the covers nursing my cold.

They have talked me into finally using the gift card one of my older sons gave to me four Christmases ago. My throat burns, my head hurts, and my body is really aching, but my mother, armed with credit cards and coupons, is definitely on a mission, since I only do this shopping thing about once every five years (No, seriously).

My oldest daughter, Sarah, who lives out of state, is serving as consultant via cell phone cameras. Rebekah has a supply of water bottles in her purse and feeds me an occasional cough drop. My mother buys me a coffee.

I am a commodity.

In JCPenney, the racks are full of jeans with pre-made holes. Before I decide I’m in style, after all, I catch a glimpse of my image, still dressed in route clothing, as I pass a mirror. I resemble a waif from an Oliver Twist orphanage. I decide to keep my mouth shut.

I am a commodity.

I stand in front of the mirror at Christopher & Banks with an armful of clothes my entourage selected for me and repeat those words. It’s not working. I'm still not believing it. The words of the White Queen from Through the Looking Glass echo in my head.

“Try again,” I hear the White Queen say. “Draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.”

Nope, I still don’t believe it, and it’s not because I haven’t had much practice, either. In a household as lively as ours, I have sometimes witnessed six impossible things before breakfast. I open the door, show off a very nice purple skirt and sweater combination and stare in horror at the khaki pants my mother is holding up.

“I can’t wear that color,” I protest. “I’ll look like I have yellow fever.”

But she pairs it with a navy blue sweater, which offsets the sallow color. The combination actually looks quite nice. It’s one of many clothing battles I will lose that day. The biggest conflict concerned the skinny-leg jeans at Carson Pirie Scott.

“My legs are too bony for these,” I said.

Rebekah and my mother look at each other and roll their eyes. “Some of us would love to have those legs,” my mother said.

“I can’t even move. I feel like I’m wrapped in cling plastic.”

“I’ll get a bigger size,” my mother said and returns with a 6.

I try them on, but they’re too baggy, so it’s back to the 4’s. Once the they’re are paired with a cream-colored turtle neck; a quilted, reversible vest; and a pair of nice, suede boots, I’m relaxed enough that I try on, for a lark, mind you, the size two leopard dress someone had abandoned in the dressing room.

My mother and Rebekah take bets on whether or not I’ll get into it. Ha! I do.
Triumphantly, I open the door. My mother looks pleased (she’s the one who found the dress), and an amazed Rebekah takes my picture with her cell phone and sends it to Sarah. Arghh! Too late!

“Did you include terms of use?”

Rebekah looks blank.

“Great. Knowing Sarah, she’ll probably post that as my new profile picture on Facebook.”

I check when I get home, to be sure, but the only thing Sarah has posted is a link to the music room on the Bryony website (http://www.bryonyseries.com/). The page looks great, and Sarah is highly pleased with her efforts. She's also had a highly productive phone consult with Ed Calkins, the Steward of Tara, but that's for another post.

However, I've been out way too late when I have to get up at midnight and deliver newspapers. Rebekah has offered to put away the entire wardrobe, so I drag myself up the ladder stairs to my attic office to check mail. My oldest son is gone for the night, but offered his chauffeuring assistance for the following night, after the blizzard starts, if I’m still sick.

Oh, and did I mention my mother gave Bryony’s website to every salesperson we met? So, I guess, whether or not I’m a commodity at this point is irrelevant. Right now, I’m feeling pretty blessed with my very supportive family. Even though, my mother's parting remark was, "Next, we'll have to do something about your hair!"

Not the hair!!!

The Lure of the Nineteenth Century

Here is part three of a four-part interview on foppery and dandyism. Sir Frederick Chook, a romantic, transcendentalistic, overly brainful fop, the author of FrillyShirt (http://www.frillyshirt.org/) and inventor of leopoard oil, explains his fondness for the nineteenth century.

7) So why does the 19th century attract you?

"For so much that defines modern life - mass production, urban industrial society, global electronic communications, capitalist class stratification, mass transit, the works - we can point to the 19th century and say "this is it. This is where it was born, or at least had its adolescence."

8) Why do you say that?

“The transition to a meritocratic, democratic, professional, educated, rational society - which we now take absolutely for granted - was so dramatic, written in such great letters across everyday life, that it produced some of the most wonderful, fascinating, sometimes genius, sometimes bizarre movements, practices and ideologies that have ever been seen."

9) Such as?

"Production and population rose, education and publication rose, world cultures blended, and more people were having more ideas than ever before. On the flipside, many of the efficiencies and simplifications of modern mass production hadn't caught on yet, so the new methods were being used to create richer or sturdier goods."

10) Like clothing?

"Clothing's a great example here - the modern suit is a loose, shapeless garment compared to its Victorian counterpart, being designed to fit as many potential customers with as little work as possible. Groups like the Arts & Crafts Movement sprung up, debating how to retain this quality of workmanship while cheap goods to those who needed them. That's a debate that's still going today, among - for instance - the steampunk community."

Twenty Questions with Ed Calkins Part Four

16) How did the idea for Ed Calkins day parade originate?

“I discovered that my birthday and Valentines Day had a little conflict when I started dating my wife. During that first year, we had gone out and celebrated my February 13th birthday. Guess what happened on the fourteenth? I didn’t have Valentine for her. That offended her at the time. My defense was, ‘Come on, it was my birthday.’ I guess that’s where started. Then I started joking with other people that my birthday should be a national holiday. When you couple that with Lincoln’s birthday and the stars aligned in the sky, you can see it was meant to be.”

17) You’re famous for cookouts, Queen of Christmas contests, candy canes and Santa hat distribution and palette jack races. Why host these things?

“Have fun, of course. Distribution centers can be so dreary. If every day is like the one before it, no one wants to get up.

18) Do you own a kilt?

“I used to, but I gave it away to my brother. It no longer fit at the waistline. So, currently, I do not have a kilt. They’re not cheap. They can cost a couple hundred dollars.”

19) For what occasions did you wear it?

“Initially I wore it St. Paddy’s day. I wore it the whole day. I was in newspapers and, yeah, I went to work with it. My wife wouldn’t let me do it after I married her. It happened this way. I have a way of not taking care of garments. When I was starting to date her, most of my jeans had holes in them, so she started taking care of them. I knew we were serious when she started washing my clothes. But when a woman starts washing your clothes, she decides what gets discarded and what gets kept. You know my striped shirts? Those were her idea. My wife now dresses me. I used to dress differently.

20) What are your plans for this blog?

“I’d like make some myths of my own, but that won’t start until the book comes out. I’m thinking it might be fun to add different side stories of the characters into the blog, but maybe, too, I might be able to introduce some of the traditional Irish myths. I’ve been wanting write something about the interplay of state fairs in Ireland. There were laws concerning them, such as you couldn’t arrest anyone during a fair and you could not engage in war. All combat had to be resolved before a fair was scheduled to start. I’d also like to write about the Knights of the Red Branch and maybe some adventure that happens to some of the knights. That’s the neat thing about a blog. Speaking from the character, if something doesn’t fit, or if there is something else I want to say, I can always come back with, ‘I was just joking. Here’s what really happened.’ I’m very excited about this. I feel I’m getting closer to that three-day holiday.”