Old-Fashioned Drying

I slept longer than I thought I would and was later than I'd hoped getting the laundry done today. It proved to be quite a pain in the rear. Seems Dad and Uncle Ken were doing their laundry this morning too. I ran errands (including sending Lauren's birthday present) while waiting for the dryer to be empty. After I finally got the clothes in the dryer, I went for a second walk. It was another gorgeous day here, breezy, sunny, and in the lower 70s. I admired the many Halloween decorations on people's porches and lawns, ranging from a few pots of mums and a fall wreath on the door to elaborate, blood-soaked displays of plastic skeletons, cotton cobwebs, and massive orange pumpkins.

I decided to open the dryer a little early to see if my clothes were dry. Not only were they still about three-fourths wet, but the dryer wouldn't start again when I closed it...AND it was getting late. I barely had enough time to run home, hang everything on my porch or wherever it would dry the best in the house, change into my damp uniform pants and shirt, throw together a dinner, and run to work. I just made it on time.

Work was steady-to-dead, really no problem except for a few obnoxious old ladies at the beginning. One woman refused to bag and bawled for a bagger. "I don't know how," she claimed. "The last time I tried, everything fell out." That doesn't mean you don't try again! Some of these older ladies who are perfectly capable of fending for themselves are sooo spoiled. They could do things, like Dolores and Lauren's mom and Miss Ellie, but they don't. It was the middle of the afternoon, and all the baggers were busy!