It's not about the house.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Day 26?, "Project" 10: The Storm Is Over...

I did it! I folded all the laundry and put it all away! I have a couch in my bedroom, look!

Oh, and I may have overreacted about the rag-bag. I waited to fold laundry till they came out of the dryer, so I could do it all at once. But then I realized there wasn't enough shelf space for all those t-shirts, so I asked Johnny if he had any ideas. He said "Put them in a trash bag in the basement, Hon. They're only rags."

But I thought--? You said--!

He's only keeping two of them, apparently. He washed the lot because they smelled bad. Because, you know, your rags ought to smell lemony-fresh before you put them in a trash bag in the basement.

The thing is, though, I may have caught a bit of Johnny Fever. Because I found this shirt and pulled it out:

It's Van Heusen! And it's perfect! That doesn't make me as bad as Johnny, right?

You may even notice that the closet doors are closed. That's because I cleaned the closet out while I was at it (sort of -- not enough to show you pictures of the inside but enough to shut the doors). I had to. There was no place to put the clothes. And in the bottom of the closet I found this:

My Yale Shakespeare! That I got at...

the Brattle Book Shop -- on their outside shelf! For $3/book! Complete! That was like three and a half years ago and they've been sitting in that bag waiting for me to do something about them ever since. Ooh, I think I smell a shelving project for Miss Prudence...

While I was still folding clothes, Johnny had the sterile balls to come in and ask me if I'd go get him a pack of cigarettes. I was wearing sleep shorts and a wife-beater tank top without a bra (don't try to picture it, it isn't pretty) and I was sweating from all the cleaning and folding, so I told him I thought he'd live another 45 minutes until his guitar lesson was through and he could go himself (honestly, I didn't use the F word). Then I started to feel bad, and I decided that if I was done folding before he was done guitaring then I'd go.

But then I opened the closet door -- right after I took that picture -- to put the shirt away, and the door fell off the track and I had to spend the next twenty minutes in there with my flowery screwdriver trying to get it level.

He's gone now, for his own cigarettes and (I imagine) a wee pint.

So I flipped the mattresses and made the bed without him.

Aren't you proud of me?

Here's your contest for today, same prize as before (guess it right and I'll make a poem with your name): can you spot the one constant in all these couch-pictures?

Day -- hm, I seem to have gotten confused somewhere. Let's just say 26: Accomplished (yuh-huh, my Nana says so).
Time: Diana's been dead for four days, plus previews and everything.
Cost: Nothing.
Johnny Having Work Lined Up For Tomorrow So I Can Actually Do Something Around Here: Priceless (he's back, by the way: I just heard him crank up the lawn mower...)


Georgetown House said...

Oh yay!! Are we proud of you? Yes!

And I got all whimpery and melancholy seeing those Shakespeares. I used to have a shelf full in that same series that disappeared in a move years ago.

I have a link to instructions for how to make these amazing "holy mother of maude, is that done by magic?" wall shelves that seem to just float on the wall, and are supposedly easy to make. If you're interested I'll send you the link, then we can compare notes when I finally get around to building them here.

Janice said...

I know! I know! the Constant on the Couch is your Cat!
And yes, I'm very proud of you Eggie, you did good.

sammie! said...

sofa snapshot similarity is sister!
shoot, second :(
still sonnet?

EGE said...

Hey, how did I miss GH's post when I was here before? I guess I was too excited about the answers... Yes, please, send me the link!