The lazy day

I love it when things work out.
First piece of bliss: Sleeping till noon.
Second: breakfast complete with hash browns.
And then, happy well-timed screening of Coraline, a PG adaptation of Neil Gaiman's book. The music was DIVINE. The animation was beautiful, and I would love to know if my psychological reading-into was a reflection on my own relationship with my mother or really was conscious on the part of the author.

Maltesers may have fuelled this piece of introspection, thank you darling husband. I really didn't need to eat them, but they were there, begging to be melted-in-mouth and then collapsed into a delicious malty pellet of goodness.... Oh, the happiness.

The unhappiness is that tomorrow is Monday. Boo, hiss. And I'm sitting in bed surrounded by insurmountable, Mt Kilimanjaro-sized piles of washing. Upon my return from Japan, I promptly sorted out my suitcase contents into appropriate piles (bought, washed, need to wash) and then turned to the overflowing laundry receptacle in our bedroom. Hmm. Every garment (I kid you not) that got washed in the subsequent load belonged to my darling and beloved husband.

Me: Hey, I've never seen you wear white socks before!
Him: Yeah, I found them...in my cupboard.
Me: You mean you didn't do any washing while I was away.
Him: It rained the whole time you were away!
Me: Oh, yeah, that clotheshorse thing we have is TOTALLY useless for drying clothes inside.
Him: Ummm... (turns palms helplessly up to the sky and shrugs in an endearing fashion)

In my darling husband's defense, he has a THING about drying clothes outside.
I do too. I view it as a complete waste of time (especially in the fickle Melburnian climate where sunny mornings can disintegrate into drizzly days in 0.5 seconds) to PEG washing out on the line where it must then be unpegged, brought inside, hung up AND put away.

I have a nasty tendency to forget it's out there in the first place, neatly negating all subsequent stages while contributing to a state of nothing-to-wearness (the cause of the white socks). Instead, I'll hang it up (on coathangers where appropriate) and hang on the clotheshorse. MUCH more practical. SO, what am I whingeing about? I'll just wash and hang allllllll day tomorrow. Terrific.