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The bottom of the washing basket

Posted on Jun 6, 2015 | 1 comment


We have a friend coming to stay and a party at the weekend, so I decided it was time for a tidy up. Having spent 2 hours retrieving lego bricks and bits of biscuit from every crevice in the apartment, emptying the dishwasher, loading the dishwasher, folding up and putting away clothes and hanging up the 11 coats strewn about willy nilly, I decided there was no way I could put it off any longer and I emptied out the washing basket.

It’s like a magic kingdom at the bottom isn’t it? You never know what you might find. Well, in this instance it was: 50 socks (but only 14 pairs, the rest odd); 3 pieces of pirate gold (plastic, sadly); a solitary pink bead; a lot of gravel; a button; 2 Greg Chapman pin badges (anyone know who he is, cos I haven’t the foggiest) and a black plastic poo bag with a bit of green glass from Sandown beach in it (approximately 1270 Miles from home).

We have only been here 10 weeks and already the junk accumulating around the place is extraordinary. And before you all start guffawing and pointing the finger at me, I’d like to state firmly that hardly any of this is mine. I have become ruthless, throwing away anything left lying around for more than 30 seconds. The top drawer in the kitchen (you know the one that every one has and chucks all their odds and sods in)  is chock full of leaflets of all varieties, tourist attractions; takeaway menus and the weekly public health bulletins which keeping arriving in the mail reminding me of important things like registering the children for a dentist. The trouble is that it takes me 2 days to translate the leaflets and then I have to add them to the pile of all the things I need to do…

Jobs still to do: cleaning the sticky fingerprints off all the huge mirror fronted cupboards in every room (whoever kitted this place out most certainly did not have children); pairing up the dozens of odd socks and hoovering…

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