There's washing on the line that's been there since Thursday. Thursday. Three days ago. On Friday I did two new loads of washing, rearranged the line and got it all out. I managed to bring about a quarter of it in a little drier than it went out. Even drying inside, and in front of the heater has been slow over the last two days. It's cold, and constant rain is making the air damp and clammy. I've been so pressed for drying space that nappies and other non essentials have been left on the line. I thought they might dry this morning but by the time we'd returned from our walk it had already been raining for half an hour. Never seem to catch them even half way to dry. Lucky I did my washing on Friday, or I'd have no clean clothes for work and Grace would be out of clean jeans.
So our kitchen feels a bit like this.
Except that I'm not trying to hide a small person in the cupboard. That's Jack, being hidden from the giant by his wife, the giantess. She looks pretty nice, I think, especially since she had just made him a big plate of bacon and eggs. Her kitchen looks cosy with a giant sock and shirt hanging up. She's a model housekeeper, I'm sure. (I wonder how the giant household fares after Jack steals the goose that lays the golden eggs and the magic harp. Seems strange that this is portrayed as a good thing, especially after the giantess feeds him.)
I think I wear too many clothes, or at least I don't wear them as many times as I could before washing them. From what I remember, I came to this conclusion at the same time last year. And started a washing minimisation scheme, which I'm sure I wrote about, but buggered if I can find.
Tomorrow; the festival of folding, ironing and putting away. I can hardly wait.