Feeling Thankful
Yesterday I mentioned that today my west porch bedroom was due for laundry. The biggy was laundering my feather comforter.
Many decades ago, Lena had a pink toilet plunger that she kept by her wringer washing machine. Hmm. With the feather comforter, I now know the importance of a clean toilet plunger. As the washing machine began filling with the Woolite delicate laundry soap and bubbles were ensuing, there wasn’t a whole bunch of the comforter getting friendly with the cold water. The plunger was called into service.
Man . . . my arms got very weary getting the feathers, encased into the batiste cotton, wet enough with the plunger to sink. I stayed close as the machine was hitting the spin-out cycle. The washing machine never gave a wobble. All was going to turn out well. When it was time to get the comforter into the dryer there was not one single feather lying loose. Sweet. Years ago I washed a pillow that was labeled “washable.” I ended up using my yellow Tupperware strainer, taking all the filling out of the wash water before the spin cycle started. It pays to stay close to the washing machine.
Dennis was busy getting his Sears mower home from the mechanic north of town that had put on new blades and fixed a bit of a bent shaft. Amazing that Dennis could get that heavy implement trailer hooked to the little red pickup on his own. Having him and all that he left with plus the mower, was a very good feeling.
The comforter has turned out great. By bedtime the flannel sheets and the comforter will welcome me to an evening and night’s slumber.
I think Supper is up for grabs. Hefting the bedding in and out of the washing machine and into the dryer for two days running, I am feeling some pulling across my chest, a little similar to the days of heart surgery recovery.
Take care during this wonderful autumn-feeling weekend.
Grammie is off the clock.