Wash Day Blues... and Browns

Thanks to the "Browns," I have help with sorting the dirty clothes. It's really true that Maine Coons are helpers. I am followed from room to room as I go about my daily tasks. When there's so much laundry to do, I'll take all the help I can get -- even if it's in the form of two overstuffed fuzzballs merely keeping me company.

Today as I'm working my way through this endless pile of laundry, there's an old Dolly Parton ditty spinning through my head:

Just rubbin' and a scrubbin' and a rinsin' 'em out;

I gotta hang 'em out early I hope the sun comes out...

(Wash 'em out ring 'em out hang 'em on the line

Get a little tired just think about the good times) 

Wash day blues

Side note: Now that I've put the lyrics into writing, I fear that the twangy chorus will be an irritating "earworm" until I go to sleep. Dolly Parton and Porter Wagoner will then haunt my dreams...Ugh! Must. Delete.

No more singing. Back to work.

I'm thankful that Bart & 'Mima do not climb into the warm dryer the way that Calistoga, our old, crotchety calico, used to. Years ago, when we lived in Santa Rosa, 'Stogie went for a spin in the dryer and made several rotations before I realized she was the reason for the thump, thump, thumping noise. (She was fine -- grumpy, scared, extra fluffy, but no worse for the wear.) At least I do not have to worry about tumbling the duo of brown tabbies. Our current washer and dryer are front loaders, but since they are on platforms, the openings are just a little too high for a curious cat to easily get into. Besides, B&J are too lazy to jump that high.

Three loads down, six more to go. 


Call me wishy-washy, but think I'll pass on accepting Bartholomew and Jemima's help with folding the clean laundry; especially the kitchen towels.