I. Took. A. BIG. Load. Of. Laundry. To. The. Laundromat. Today. Yay! Another step back into life. I went EARLY. It opens at 7:00 AM and I didn’t quiiiite make it that early but I was there well before eight. Woke up at 5-something, made a trip down to the Water Closet, got buzzed by a f*cking *moe*-skee-*toe* for 20 minutes or so, then fell back asleep. It was okay. Almost no one was in there. There were a couple un-maskers around (despite the fact that there is a sign on the door saying masks are required). I wore a mask. The GG did not. He also did not stay around to doooo the laundry. He had breakfast at Frank’s. With my enthusiastic blessing. I am a Washer Woman extroardinaire and I prefer to do it myself although I do miss the days when various beach urchins would accompany me to the laundromat. BTW, it was warm enough here in the yooperland this morning that I sat outside (unmasked) while my laundry did its thing.

One of the reasons I allowed the GG to come with me is because it’s been TWO YEARS since I have gone to the laundromat. I needed him to drive so I could make sure I was prepared. Laundry pods? Check. $20 bill (to get quarters)? Check. Ziplock bag to put the quarters in? Check. Do I know my NEW CAR well enough to not put my laundry into somebody else’s new car? Check. Mask? That’s not something I needed two years ago but I had one in my pocket. Check. It’s okay, I did it all just fine.

So then. The GG got on a ROLL and moved EVERYTHING in the moomincabin living area outside or at least out of the way and CLEANED from top to bottom. It doesn’t look all that different but it FEELS clean and there’s a lingering smell of Pine-Sol, his fave cleaner. There may be some who don’t like that smell. I’m just happy that it’s CLEAN here and somebody else did it (while I earned money working-from-camping-trailer-in-the-moomincabin-yard).

It is excruciatingly hard to keep the floors clean in this place (not to mention that we have ANCIENT linoleum tiles that are FUGLY as all getout). The main problem these days is pine needles and other forest floor debris. When there are little kids around, SAND is a big problem. When there are DOGS around, DOG FUR is a big problem. We don’t have dogs around here any more, at least not usually. Mia visited a few years ago for a couple days and she was fine.

When I was a kid, we had Tigger. She was a stray we adopted and whatever mix of breeds were in her resulted in the look of a small golden retriever. So long hair. The Commander was strict about where she was allowed. At the moomincabin she had a comfy box although she often slept under the cabin next to the warm chimney but she was NOT allowed on the couch. At our shabby little bungalow in town she was NOT allowed anywhere near the living room and NOT allowed on the couch. We had one of those dangereuse expandable child gates to keep her from getting to the living room and she was TERRIFIED of it. But also. One day we were gone and somebody had forgotten to put the gate up. When we got home, we caught her SHEEPISHLY getting down off the couch. Did we punish her? No we did not. We laughed. She was a wonderful wonderful VERY intelligent doggy and we loved her.

My brother had dogs and I loved them and so did my mom but she didn’t like them on the couch. Me? I was a one-dog woman and Tigger was my dog.

P.S. We adopted Tig when I was five because I was TERRIFIED of dogs as a young child. After maybe six hours of being terrified of Tigger and after a whole bunch of non-terrified cousins played with her, she fell asleep. In a box. By the next morning I was petting her and picking her up and I have never been categorically afraid of dogs since.

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