Talking tackle - the female way
Oh, you guessed. My new life with no less than two washing machines. People at times wonder how women coped with house work during the days of large families and small washboards - can't be anything like today, can it??
Sometime after the fourth one was born I noticed that the average lifespan of my washing machine had shrank to six, maybe nine months. They all worked 24/7 and died of exhaustion. So Hisself got me an industrial sized one. The longest programme takes an hour and the sizable drum takes two and a half ordinary domestic loads. I am back to washing 2-3 loads a day and the bearings last about two years at a time, which is a novelty.
However this magic machine has maximum temperature of 55 C and my whites have suffered. It was OK when I still had time to pre-soak in stain remover but after No5 arrived....not good. As Hisself likes his t-shirts white [and as a romantic gesture] I got a lovely new machine for my whites. He researched as for any machinery purchase and found one made in China with Liebherr technology. When the first programme finished the reverse alarm sound of a large excavator echoed down my corridor to the kitchen and for a second I had this image of my new pride and joy reversing to my wash line to deliver the freshly washed goods.
The admin was wondering if Hisself is always that romantic? He is so much more. Since childhood I have loved draining muddy puddles by making little rivers with my wellies. When it rained for a month he went round my play area every night with the forklift making fresh tracks for the rain to fill. I found that very special, but No1 son pointed out that mummy is easily pleased! There was I thinking that Isobel's suggestion of practical presents had sank in....
Another piece of machinery on my shopping list is a little kids trailer. The kind you see in American TV and movies with a long handle and big tyres. They used to be imported to UK and sold at staggering prices. The CE regulation has condemned both the paint and the stability. Apparently If you turn the handle as far as it will go on a slope the thing will fall over. I would very much like my children to learn that if you play silly with machinery you'll get hurt, but developing sense of danger has become old fashioned.
I have two methods of getting stuff from America: Usually buying online, but they are not allowed to ship these things to the EU anymore. When all else fails Aunt Arizona goes to Wal Mart and uses the US postal service. In this case the object is rather heavy and Aunt nearing 80. She can't lift it to the shopping trolley let alone into her car. In desperation we have contacted Uncle Canada. He is a single man of certain advancing age with no experience with children. Uncharacteristically he has developed an interest to No5 and I think he just might get this one right. This is a trailer and he is a farmer. It is the set price that worries me - can this man buy a trailer outside an auction???? I'll keep you posted.
To a totally different kind of kit. No2 daughter has a retro day at school next week and she is to wear something from the decade's past. We found a rather fetching corset from the 1980's that pleased her and stumbled across my favourite pair of shoes from a long time ago. Made from leather and lace they are something a woman of my age should not admit owning let alone go out wearing them.
But I am guilty on both accounts. No1 son called that his bus was nearing the town. He had been hiking in the hills for two days for charity and was in desperate need of food, wash and sleep. So I dashed out. As I parked and watched other parents to rush to welcome their loved children from the bus I realised that for me the car was best place to hide. In addition to my fancy shoes I was wearing a bright red pair of tracksuit bottoms with bright yellow text "China" shining across my derrière and down my leg. All matched with Hisself's red Xmas jumper, well that is what it was before the moths attacked.
While all other mothers returned carrying half their son's kit and giving me dirty looks for being uncaring, No1 son arrived with a very pretty girl carrying half his kit and a rather satisfied smile on his face. "Thanks mum for not showing up!" - blessed are the days when the little I can manage is all they want in the world!!!!