Routine, routine, routine

I wrote the other day about how much it annoys me when G does loads of washing outside the routine. It is very pedantic of me, I know. I should just appreciate that he is willingly participating. So I try to hide my annoyance, well once I have explained why it works better my way. I like a routine where the return for effort is maximised and tasks are done in comfortable size chunks, neither piddly little bits or big overwhelming dramas.  This is something I loathe, wet washing left out on the line overnight.
Not only do you have to straighten and sometimes repeg, but it takes up valuable line space for the next mornings wash. If it is really going to rain all day, I put off doing the washing, unless we were running out of clothes. In which case, I would wash only what is needed for the next couple of days and hang things under cover outside and around the house. Then use the dryer of despair to finish drying things off. I spent a good part of Saturday sorting through piles of not quite dry laundry of various kinds. Many piddly bits. Much folding and re-airing. Some explanations were provided. There were no arguments but double handling of any sort really annoys me. That's why I love my routine.

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