The weather could not have been more cheerless yesterday. It was like spending the day in the plot of The Field, accentuated by damp laundry. Nothing contributes more to squalor than damp laundry on makeshift clotheslines draped all over the bathroom on a rainy day. I think we are going to have to get the dryer fixed. Europeans get along without dryers, but Europeans don't expect their trousers to be laundered after each wearing.
I did make progress on the housecleaning project. Last weekend was a fairly cursory cleaning of the kids' rooms. Where is the boundary between cleaning and snooping? I'd rather not cross it. Grace keeps her room pretty clean without any nagging and Seamus' room is so small it's like a monk's cell. All it needed was to clear out a few things that Ian left behind when he moved out.
Next, I did the closet under the stairs and now the Christmas decorations are neatly boxed and firmly stacked. Yes, I did find the missing N to my noel. I also found this calico angel, lying face down on the dusty floor.
I made her years ago. I have a childish habit of anthropomorphizing inanimate objects and I felt so terrible about the forgotten angel that I've propped her up in the kitchen to watch over us for the year.
This weekend I tackled the upstairs bathroom, which is a major undertaking. I found these quilts which I made when the kids were little. The space between the washing machine and the wall is probably not the ideal place to store them, but it is the only space I have. These quilts were a cheerful sight on a dreary Sunday.
|Irish Chain quilt I made for Ian's first big boy bed|
|I made this pinwheel quilt for Brigid and Grace|
|I made this one because I love the log cabin pattern|
Also found between the washer and the wall: a gaggle of American Girl dolls with their entire collective, rather sumptuous, wardrobe stuffed into a gorgeous dance bag from our ballet days. I moved the doll clothes into a plastic bin and I'm appropriating the ballet bag for myself. The dolls themselves were too dearly bought to give away. My grandmother had a secret attic hidden behind a bookcase that pulled away from the wall. In the attic were my aunts' old dolls and I used to love playing with them. I'll save our old dolls for my future grandchildren.
|L-R: Not a "real" AG; Josephina; Molly; Elizabeth; Emily|
Kirsten is missing. I wonder what happened to her?
Anything to report from your world?