Bacon Bits Rock

Tonight I made the most incredible spaghetti ever.

It was both delicious and exciting.

The delicious part was obtained by adding a large handful of Kirkland Bacon Bits to a normally routine rendition of Ragu Spaghetti sauce. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now, but keep forgetting. Then, earlier today, I stripped the meat from the remains of a dead roasted Kirkland chicken, purchased more than a few days ago, shredded part of it, added some mayo and other things, and called it Chicken Salad. I also added Kirkland Bacon Bits to the mix which made it more than perfect. Really. The flavor combination ensured that anything I may have added was pretty much irrelevant. All I confirmed with this discovery, as I’m sure all of you already knew, that if you add enough bacon to anything, even cake, you can’t go wrong.

So, I added more than enough to the Ragu.

The exciting part came when I sat down in my recliner and almost got my tray to my lap before it tipped just enough to allow the bowl, into which I placed my spaghetti and sauce, to keep it from spilling, slid off my tray in slow motion, and landed upside down on my stretched out legs. They were stretched out because I was in the reclining position.

Needless to say, Diane was less than pleased. She kept repeating, “Oh my God, look what you’ve done!” and, “I can’t believe you just did that!”, and “Don’t move!” These instructions were issued by a semi-hysterical lady who had a more detailed view of the damage than I did. All I saw was an empty bowl laying on my spaghetti-stained pajama-clad legs. Intuitively I knew there was a big mess in front of my chair, and a bit on Diane’s favorite carpet.

The dogs were, of course, delighted and had a hard time waiting to help solve the cleanup problem. We all maintained our positions, obeying the “don’t move” order, while Diane went to the kitchen to fetch a plate so she could salvage the remains of my supper. I ate it without a thought as I’ve eaten many other things that I’ve found on the floor.

The dog’s efforts confirmed my wisdom in adding bacon bits to the sauce.

The Garage Door, My iPhone 6, My Glasses, & The Garbage

Yesterday afternoon I only had two things to remember; put the garbage can, and the recycle can at the street. Technically, i suppose that’s only one thing to remember. Also, technically, neither of them are cans, but it doesn’t sound right if you call them ‘plastics’, ya know? So, they’re cans.

I knew right away I’d missed the garbage man when I frantically rolled the can to the street when I woke at 0710 because the neighbors garbage can lid was upside down, the garbage man’s way of saying, “I was here.” Still, I left it at the street with the plan of hauling it back to the house later in the day, between rain storms. I did get the recycle out on time, so that was good. Still, I got into a minor bit of trouble when I told Diane about my failure.

Technically it was the dogs fault because neither of them woke me at 0530 like normal. Had they done so, I’m sure I coud have beat the garbage man to the street. I’ll have to talk with them about that and reinforce it with a piece of cheese.

There are a couple of other reasons I may have failed to remember those important chores that are worthy of mention. First, my iPhone 6 arrived yesterday and it was mandatory that I configure it and test all the functions I’ve been studying for the past 1.5 months. Second, my new glasses arrived from the VA facility that makes them, somewhere in Idaho. Boise, I think. There’s a little difference in the prescription so there was an adjustment period getting used to them. I hardly ran in to anything so it was a successful transition. The main problem is that they have transition lenses that require me to wobble my head around to focus on things because the magic little focus spots are a little off from my old ones.I got gold frames, which Diane doesn’t like on me, so I envision a trip to Costco in the near future to rectify that fashion failure on my part. I only chose them because I liked the nose cushion. It’s comfy.

My new iPhone arrived while I was working on the other garage door. We have two of them. Diane’s has an automatic opener and mine is manual. Everyone should be very proud of me for taking the phone to my desk where I left it, all wrapped up, then went back to work on the door. My task was to attach a new seal to the bottom of the door. It’s kind of a problem because I got the kind that has an extruded aluminum bracket into which one must slide the seal after the bracket is mounted to the bottom of the door. Sounds easy, right. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s far from that. I did Diane’s garage door on Saturday and it about crippled my right hand all over again. The problem is that the rubber part arrives flat and must be formed into a “U” as it’s slid into the bracket channels and this covers the screws quite nicely. Looks good. But, the door must be completely open so the bottom of the door is located at the curve where the door goes horizontal so the bottom is not blocked by the frame in which the door rollers roll. Got it? Even then I had to undo the bottom roller on one side in order to clear the roller frame thing. With a little WD-40 and lots of effort I managed to push, yes, push, the rubber seal across the entire 10 foot span of the door. It was brutal and my right hand wasn’t working very well when I finished, but I got it done, by golly!

So, yesterday I figured I’d make things easier by propping the door open, about chest high, then remove the bottom rollers from BOTH sides thereby allowing me to swing the bottom panel of the door into the garage where I could easily insert the rubber seal. I tied off the bottom rollers to heavy things I found on the garage floor to keep the door spring from coiling up and beating holes in the ceiling after being ripped from my grasp. On one side I used a trailer hitch and the other side had a propane tank attached.

Everything was going nicely until I took the last screw out of the second roller bracket. At that exact moment I realized the error of my thinking as the door pushed the wood clamp I’d used to hold the door up aside as if it wasn’t there and slammed with a resounding crash to the floor. I’m sure it shook houses on both sides of us. On the way down it hit my sprained left wrist which hurt a bit, but I wasn’t concerned about that right then. I was waiting for the pain to race up my left from my left foot that I thought might be trapped under the door, but it never happened. Looking down I was relieved to see that my foot was actually OK.

Right then Diane appeared in the door to the house and calmly asked if I was OK. Having already assessed myself for possible crippling injuries, I assured her that I actually was OK. Then, just to get it out of the way, I told her what had happened, she nodded knowingly, and retreated back into the house after suggesting that I call Jeff for help.

I eventually did call Jeff, after re-learning that a 10 foot wide wood garage door that isn’t hooked to its spring weighs about a ton and a half, far beyond my limited lifting abilities. Once Jeff got here we managed, after a bit of testing, to get the door open and propped up so we could insert the rubber seal and put it all back together. However, noticing a small dent in one of the channels, into which the rubber gasket would slide, closer inspection revealed that nothing was going to slide through it. Ever. The door landed on some “things” that slammed those grooves shut tight in a number of places to the point where I knew the only way to make it neat was to get a new rubber gasket bracket. If I’d been thinking properly I would have reattached the bottom rollers, that are attached to the big spring, but I wasn’t so we didn’t. Instead, we lowered the door to the floor, gently, where it will reside until the new brackets arrive from wherever they’re made.

Last night Diane went to play bunco with her friends so I was left along with strict instructions to not do anything that involved lifting heavy things, or plugging anything into a wall socket. That pretty much limited me to my new iPhone 6 which I opened and got it all set up for use. I worked on the puzzle we have living on a table, too. The pieces are very light so there was no danger of violating the lifting restriction.

Now it’s Tuesday and I’m home alone again because Diane is working today. She didn’t leave me any instructions so I’m a little bit concerned about how I should conduct myself until her return. I’ll figure something out. It’d not raining very hard so maybe I’ll just go out and mow the yard.

Hope you all are doing well.

My Jennie Lynn

Yesterday I received all the material I ordered to waterproof our garage doors so this morning, after my nap, I donned my dirty clothes so I could get to work. Before that, however, I had to finish the church newsletter that I pretty much promised would be done shortly after noon. Normally I would print a copy for my live-in proofreader, but she made a date with her Mom to go shopping. It’s for food, so I’m not complaining. The thing is, however, I felt like I was under the gun to get the newsletter into the hands, or ‘eyes’ in this case, sooner than later. I did print the copy and it’s waiting for her input. Should there be errors, I’ll fix it and resend, but I don’t think she’ll find any. I’m guessing, of course.

We’ve been wanting me to work on the garage door for the past 7 years so I suppose it was time to do it. One of the reasons for delay  was finding the “stuff” I needed to do it. Researching the internet revealed lots and lots of choices and, as you may know, making choices isn’t one of my strong suits.

Take menus, for example. When we go to a restaurant, or Burgerville, everyone knows to go ahead and order what they want, leaving me until last because I need to investigate all the possibilities. If pressed to order first I almost always get something I don’t really want just so people will quit making suggestions because they want me to place my order so they can place theirs. It’s very difficult. So, I go last. I’ve always said that the best menu in the world would be one that has only one choice and if you don’t like it, go somewhere else. I would go there no matter what they served, just for the experience of a no hassle order. I guess that’s why I like going to Hometown Buffet where you pay on the way in and just eat whatever they have available. It’s like a Costco for things to eat.

Oddly, that brings me back to the garage door because just as I ended that last bit, my proofreader returned with a butt load of bags full of food. And a new iron and a cake. The cake is for Jennifer’s birthday party which we’re having tomorrow afternoon. Her birthday was really two days ago, because she was born on the tropical island of Guam and they are 17 hours ahead of us time-wise. I know that’s true because Diane looked it up and told me. Bet lots of you didn’t know we had a little Guamanian in the family. Here’s what she looked like about 3 years after being released into the world …

NOV-1978

… and again at 5 …OCT-1980-1What a cutie. Now she’s 39 and that totally flabbergasts me because she’s still my little girl and I don’t see a lot of changes from the above photos and she still calls me “Daddy” when she want’s something. Well, not only when she wants something. Sometimes she does it because she wants to see me melt.

Today is a super windy one and I don’t want to open the garage door any more but I will anyway, and deal with whatever blows in the door while I’m working. Might work out OK, but I will be using a drill for part of this evolution. It could get tricky. I’ll submit the standard injury report should one be necessary.

I hope everyone is safe and dry.

To iPhone or Not To iPhone

I recently discovered that I’ve paid my debt to AT&T, honored the terms of their elaborate contract, and can embark on a new 2-year lease for one of the new, fancy phones available on the market. Or, I can switch providers and engage in a different contract that, in the end, will provide me with cell service anywhere in the USA and afford me a gaming experience beyond my wildest dreams.

So, I began shopping and doing my research in order to make the best decision possible for someone my age, with my background. Thinking that what i discovered will be useful to others, I’m going to share my thoughts about all this hoopla, and what I learned.

To put “things” into perspective, I’m 70 years old. Not your typical gamer looking for the biggest, baddest phone around that will meet my need to play Halo, or some other shooter game, while sipping a latte at Starbucks. No, I’m actually looking for a phone that that I’m less prone to drop, whose keyboard is large enough that I can actually type on, or whose voice recognition is good enough that I can simply talk to it and get things done, if I want to. I have an IT background, but that was my second career after spending the better part of 30 years in the US Navy. Just the guy you want to review your phone, right? If that’s a problem for you I’ll remind you that what I write here isn’t something you have to read. You can stop any time you wish. If you do that, however, you might miss some perfectly valid insight about the potential of this new world of communication gadgets. Or, maybe you won’t. It’s a crap shoot, so read on at your own risk.

I’ve had cell phones since they were first made available. Somewhere in the basement is a box containing a few of the flip-phones I’ve owned in the past. They all did the job just fine and I was happy with every one of them. I suspect they would still work OK if I could convince myself to be happy with GSM or EDGE service. Some of my friends still use them and we talk quite often so I know they still work.

Then, along came texting, a new way to communicate without getting instant gratification by interrupting the person you called while they are in a meeting, eating lunch, or in the bathroom. Instead, send a text that can be answered at a more appropriate time. I loved that idea even though it took me a while to rid myself of the incessant need to respond immediately so as not to offend the caller. Getting the hand of texting on a flip phone was a serious challenge that i eventually met, the the Blackberry show up with its standard QWERTY keyboard layout and the teeny tiny little buttons that I thought I’d never ever be able to hit just one of them. Happily, it turned out I could do it just fine and I learned to enjoy sharing information through text messaging.

Without drawing this out any longer than  necessary, I’ll just share that I progressed through the phones with physical keyboards and into the world of smartphones with those cute little keyboards that work quite nicely. I will add that the only rendition of a smart phone I’ve ever owned is an iPhone of one version  or another. I think I’ve had every version from the start and currently use an iPhone 3.

“Why,” you may ask, “are you still using an iPhone 3?” My response is, “because it still works.” Oh, I had my iPhone 4G just before the iPhone 5 was released, and was on target to get the 5, the  I started dropping “things”, and cracking screens. Most of us have done that, but it took a long time before it started impacting my cellular experience. To aid in my move from the 4G, I upgraded Diane to a perky yellow 5C, took her 3 that was encased in a nifty Hello Kitty case, and gave my 4G to Jeff whose screen was in worse shape than mine. I also gave him a screen repair kit knowing he had friends with fingers more agile than his or mine. Life was good after swapping the SIMS around to get things working.

The Hello Kitty case didn’t last long. I was perfectly OK with it, but Diane felt I should have something a little more “manly”. Being a really good husband, I folded and sadly moved my phone to a new case and I’ve been using it to successfully communicate for the requisite 2 years without fail. And, I haven’t dropped it until recently. Thanks to the case, it didn’t break anything, but dropping it is a concern. I have this vision of wandering abound in Costco, or another equally large retail outlet, with a broke phone that just dropped and will not allow me to communicate with my beloved wife, Diane.

Since we actually were at Costco, I visited the phone kiosk and talked with Seth to learn to advantages of, say, a Samsung G5 over the new iPhone 6. Seth whipped out his Samsung Note 3 and gave me a dazzling exhibition of how accurate Samsung voice recognition is, and how incredibly accurate it’s ability to decipher notes jotted with a stylus and stuff the info into his contact information. He displayed another neat feature that allowed him to wake his phone up simply by talking to it. It was readily evade that he’s done this numerous times and has the spiel down pat, and that he’s a diehard Samsung Guy. He had me convinced that I should abandon the iPhone in favor of an Android unit running an OS with a cute name. I was totally hooked and called AT&T right then to cancel the iPhone 6 I had ordered the previous day. Yup, I was moving on to a platform that would do everything I asked without ever having to touch it. How convenient is that?

I couldn’t do anything about “moving on” for 24 hours from the time I cancelled my order so I had some time on my hands that I put to good use researching The iPhone 5, Samsung G5, and the new Samsung Note 4. I read dozens of reviews from analysts who switched from Android to the iPhone and from iPhone to Android all for valid reasons that fit their needs. Some were full of technical data about how good, or bad, one camera was compared to the other, but the one that resonated with me, after a long dissertation about the merits of each platform, simply said, that if the platform you’re using works for you, does what you need it to do, there’s really not a reason to change. Changing, for me, would entail learning an entirely foreign system and I’m just not inclined to do that. So, I got back online with AT&T and ordered my new iPhone 6, again. It will be here in 7-14 days. I actually toyed with the idea of getting a 6 Plus, but figured the 6 was about the perfect size for me to wrap my arthritic fingers around and engage my trigger fingers to lock it in place without fear of dropping it. The 6 Plus, though nice, would to allow me to engage the trigger fingers, however, so the 6 is it.

Now, if I’d just ignored Seth, my new phone would have been here tomorrow. Now I must wait.

Another Day Another Wound

So … as you know from my previous post, Diane isn’t home today and I was afforded another chance to drive myself to the emergency room. In order for me to legally take advantage of this brief window of opportunity I had to find a clever way to injure myself in such a manner that my honor wouldn’t be impinged.

Getting out my trusty hammer drill, I went to work on the curb I’ve been whittling at for a while in an attempt to make room to set a fence post. The first 6-7 holes were accomplished with no problem then I got cocky and locked the trigger on so I could hold the drill without squeezing it. Made things much easier, with less wear and tear, until the drill bit his a rough spot and I lost my grip. With the bit about 3 inches deep in cement, there was no way it was going to fall over. With the trigger locked on, there was also no way the drill was going to stop. Consequently, the drill quickly began spinning around the drill bit at a pretty impressive RPM, winding up the cord as it went. In an attempt to stop the rotation, I grabbed at it and wound up with my left wrist tied securely to the drill by the cord and twisted in a painful manner until I could reach the extension cord with my right hand and unplug the machine. During the unplugging effort, my right hand was also twisted and beat up so my current predicament is predictable.

My previously partially damaged opposed thumb on my right side is now mostly un-opposed to the point where manipulating a zipper or button a shirt is a challenge. And, my left wrist, though unbroken, isn’t in any kind of mood to bend any direction. Tomorrow things should start getting colorful at the points of injury. If they don’t, I’ll be very disappointed. I’m a firm believer that injuries of this nature should be punctuated with colorful bruises to commemorate the event. If they aren’t, I may be prone to seeking some colored pencils which I can use to create my own marks.

Here’s what happened to the drill …

IMG_0366

On a little lighter side, here’s where Ozzie lounged the entire time I was eating my supper soup in my recliner. He wasn’t waiting for me to drop anything … he just wanted a front row seat in case I was handing out samples … which I did.IMG_0364

I have to add, here, that injuring myself wasn’t the objective of my foray into the area of manual labor this afternoon. Things like that just seem to work out for me.

Supervision, Kids, Trucks, & Football

Yesterday Diane abandoned me, escaping to the wild somewhere southeast of Portland proper, to participate in a women’s retreat with Jennifer and a bunch of other women. To ensure I was adequately supervised in her absence, she and Jennifer arranged for Jeran to spend last night with me to get me through that first night alone. Only one more to go.

It’s good to have Jeran here because we get along extremely well. With no women around, we can leave the toilet seat up all the time, don’t have to close the bathroom door if we don’t want to, and don’t have to change our underwear unless one of us has an accident. Regarding the latter, I’m more prone to that than Jeran is.

Last night for supper Jeran ate two pieces of leftover pizza as well as one chicken wing from a Costco baked chicken purchased Friday afternoon. I only at chicken. I was going to have baked beans with it but they had fuzzy spots amidst the beans so figured it wasn’t a good idea.

We both slept great last night even though we went to bed late. Somehow I got tangled up into watching a Harry Potter marathon and we watched two of the movies back-to-back. Well, I watched the second one, at least. I think the two movies lasted about 7 hours straight which would have rendered me mostly blind had I watched them both.

This morning the dogs allowed me to sleep until about 0715, a new record for 2014, then I lounged peacefully on the sofa until Jeran appeared around 0930. He fixed himself a cereal breakfast and I made coffee. Since Diane isn’t here I can drink the entire pot all by myself. Probably not a good idea, but I could if I wanted. I won’t, though. Instead I’ll drink half and safe the remainder for tomorrow morning. That way I’ll have to use the coffee grinder once. It’s really noisy.

After breakfast, Jeran sat on the sofa to read one of the Harry Potter novels. It’s HUGE! and he’s about halfway through it. Since he was sitting on Diane’s side of the sofa, Ozzie felt that it was OK to join him and snuggled at his feet. This is totally out of character for the little black dog. He even let Jeran pet him without ripping his arm off, his previous form of affection. It’s evident to all who know him that Ozzie has become more socially acceptable over the past couple of weeks since he got his teeth cleaned. We don’t know if the two events are connected but both of them have provided benefits to all of us.

Shortly after Jeran got comfortable with his book, Jeff called to ask what kind of donuts we liked. Raised, glazed, of course, for both Jeran and me. Shortly thereafter, Jeff appeared with Gilligan and Baylee and we had donuts for an after breakfast snack. Lots of times donuts, by themselves, are considered an adequate breakfast, so it was a real treat. We had a good visit, then Jeff had to get the rest of the donuts home before they got hard. It was a good, and tasty, visit.

Now we’re just lounging around. I’m thinking about what I should be doing today, but with no adult supervision I’m finding it difficult to focus on just one project. All I can do is sit in my chair and try to keep my head from twitching as my many unfinished tasks flit around in my brain, each one vying for top billing. Foremost, for sure, is replacement of the fence I ripped down. It’s calling to me, but not loud enough to disturb me. There’s also the chair kit I need to construct, but I don’t have any wood glue. Getting it would require a trip to ACE but I’m still in my jammies and would have to get dressed for that task. There’re others, I know, but I’m not currently inclined to expend the required amount of brain cells necessary to remember them.

o, here I sit, watching Camping World’s Fred’s 250 from the Talladega Superspeedway, and unranked West Virginia beat #4 Baylor at football, with the sound off. I left the sound off so it wouldn’t disturb Jeran’s library experience on the sofa.

I’m watching the Talladega race because it’s a pickup race and I figured it would be a good way to decide what kind of pickup we should get. What I did was check on line to see what the lineup was and learned that Chevy’s outnumber all other entrants by far. Second is Toyota then there’s Ford. Plus, they use a Chevy Silverado as the pace truck. Therefore, it’s a simple decision to chose Chevy as the truck of choice. It was made even easier because we’d already made that decision. It’s a 2015 goal of ours.

Wow! All of that just wore me out. Guess it’s time for a nap.

Lady Lions Soccer

The St. Helens High School Junior Varsity soccer team is not ranked in the state of Oregon. Sadly, none of the JV teams are. Only Varsity teams get ranked which, to me, moves JV teams into the realm of Second Class Citizens. I say that realizing the goal of all JV team members is to move up to the Varsity ranks as quickly as possible. As a result, there is a lot of competition, sometimes to the point of being unhealthy for all involved … for some teams.

The Lady Lions JV Soccer Team (LLJVST), I’m happy to report, does not even lean a little bit toward the unhealthy side of things. They are a good team that never get written up in the newspaper like their Varsity mentors do, but they should because they win games more often.

Yesterday, for example, St. Helens played Hillsboro High School in an unusual venue where both JV and Varsity teams played adjacent to each other. Diane, I, and a gathering of perhaps 10 other parents attended the game to cheer our girls on, which some of us did in very enthusiastic, loud voices which that were apparently regarded as unnecessary, and definitely unwanted, by the opposing team.

It was interesting to see how the Varsity game was going while also watching the JV team. We couldn’t catch-all the activity over there but the scoreboard kept us apprised of the situation. The JV field didn’t have a scoreboard so we had to keep track in our heads.

Adding an element of great interest, and challenge, was the fact that JV and Varsity Hillsboro teams were unbeaten. As we watched the scoreboard progress from 1-0, to 4-0, in favor of Hillsboro Varsity it was evident this trend would continue on the varsity side. The final score was 7-1.

On the JV side, things were a little different. Varsity had 3 umpires, we had one. In our St. Helens crowd we also had 2 lady soccer umpires who know the game and helped prompt our lone ump to pay more attention to activity away from the ball. It was pretty physical and there was a distinct danger that someone was going to get hurt if fouls weren’t called when made.

The JV game was very well-played defensively on both sides for much of the first half, then St. Helens scored. It was 1-0, something Hillsboro wasn’t prepared for and it appeared this was used as a reason to escalate the physical nature of the game. We in the stands, cheered all the good plays, and pointed out obvious misses by the umpire which seemed to upset the opponents who started explaining to us the reason an infraction was committed, even if it wasn’t called. It served no purpose other than to make them angry, for no reason.

Soon it was 2-0 and, when the final whistle blew, it was 3-0, St. Helens. Our JV girls held the previously unbeaten Hillsboro girls scoreless for their first time. It was a glorious win and our girls displayed exceptional behavior. They know what it’s like to lose, and they accept defeat gracefully. Sadly, even though they play a great game, that’s not true for all teams.

Oh! Did I mention that our Lydia is the JV goalie? She made some awesome saves and will be sporting some impressive bruises for a while as a result. Team defense helped secure the win by ensuring the ball was kept in play at the other end of the field for much of the game.

Dermatology, iPhone’s, & Blood Blisters

Today Diane took me to my dermatology appointment at Good Samaritan Hospital in Portland where the doc caused me excruciating pain as he burned off a fairly large number of suspect moles from various parts of my body. I was very disappointed to learn how many pain receptors there are behind my ear lobe. Maybe yours are different, but I doubt it.

Eventually the pain went away and the doc helped me up off the floor and allowed me to exit his facility without further injury. To celebrate my release we went to lunch at Home Town Buffet in Beaverton. It’s an all you can eat place, but I didn’t. I could have eaten lots more.

On the way home we stopped at Fred Meyers in Scappoose. I bought a new case for the new iPhone 6 that’s supposed to be on its way to me.

In case you’re curious about what’s been going on for the past bunch of days you’re out of luck because I don’t remember right at this moment. Not all of it, anyway. There is a memorable moment I had alone while chipping through some really old cement in order to make room for a new fence post when I received a career ending blood blister on my left pinky. It really hurt and had something to do with a small sledge-hammer and a wedge meant for splitting wood that I was using as a tool to dismantle portions of a cement curb. It worked better than I thought it would. Turns out it works pretty good for splitting really hard rocks, too. Who knew?

Now I’m tired and must quit.

Wash Cloth Rules

This morning I was retrained in how to tell which wash cloths on the shelf I’m legally allowed to use. Apparently there are rules regarding wash cloth selection that I’ve forgotten. Sometimes I will leave the hall light off and grab the first one I touch when reaching into the towel & wash cloth closet (T&WCC). That’s probably the way it works in most homes but I have no data to support that theory. Now that I’ve been properly re-educated, wash cloths have become more important in my life. I’ve lost the carefree notion that it is OK to use whatever’s available and now understand that I better watch my P’s and Q’s when making future selections.

Here’re the two washcloth rules, as I understand them …

  • Diane’s — New, Soft, Fluffy, Colored
  • Jerrie’s — Really thin, well-worn, look like they may have been white at some point in the past, are within one machine washing of hitting the rag-bag, weren’t colored when purchased

Simple, right? Perhaps my mistakes in grabbing the wrong cloths stems from a sense of unfairness. Seems like I could at least use the colored ones.

In an attempt to help me with this problem, I was reminded that Diane’s wash cloths are always on the left of the shelf. Anything to the right of her pile is fair game. Here’s what it looks like …

IMG_0360

Looking at that picture I’m sure all of you can see the reason why my grasp gravitates to the left pile, right? Isn’t it evident that going for the top of the pile on the right would result in serious injury to one’s knuckles by trying to extract the cloth on top. I will, however, abide by the rules with the hope that, one day, I, too, can legally use a new, soft, fluffy wash cloth.

Until then, in order to remove the immediate need for a wash cloth, I’ve decided to start using one of those sponges made for cleaning up grout on a tile job. You know, the ones that has a rough scrubby side and a soft side?

Or, better yet, maybe I’ll just use one of Diane’s really, really fluffy socks. She has lots of those because she has career ending cold feet. Since socks are always getting lost in the wash, i doubt she would miss one that doesn’t have a mate.

I’ll let you know.

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