About me

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Laundry seed

In the olden days such as those I grew up in, it was important that we saved some seed from one year to the next. You didn't want to eat all this year's corn, and then have none to sow next year. OK, we didn't so much eat the corn as we drank the corn, but you get my drift. If you don't save a little seed in the one season, you won't have any to plant in the next season, and that means you'll be going hungry, or thirsty in the case of corn.

The same reasoning applies to laundry. You need to save a little from this week's laundry so you'll have plenty of laundry to do next week. Oh what a sadness it would be to wake up so early on a weekend only to discover you have no laundry to do. I'm not sure I could find the strength to continue if that ever happened.

Here's the seed I set aside this morning.


A white sock. Study this carefully.

2 comments:

The Crow said...

Okay, I understand about planting laundry seeds, but what happens to the missing socks, the one from a pair that I know I had put in the washer but had disappeared sometime between the last rinse cycle and when I lifted the lid to remove the wet things to the dryer?

On another note, I cannot post a comment over at Your Moon. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the recent post. You are such a great writer, a natural-born storyteller in the best traditions, Jim. I so enjoyed the chase of the grasshopper by the duck through the beans and into your Grandmother's sumptious cocoanut cakes. For those of us sinners who won't get into heaven, a cocoanut cake is the perfect consolation prize. I was salivating from memories of those my mother used to make. Thank you for this wonderful story.

Jim Penny said...

Such kind words, they make me blush.

Where those things go, I suspect, will remain on of the great mysteries of this world. I like to think there is an alternate reality somewhere, and the landscape there is littered with singles of this and that while the inhabitants don't even notice that it looks odd to wear socks of different colors.

Meanwhile, it's an hour now past an unnecessary 4 A.M. wake up, the coffee is ready, and the comment tag has reappeared on the Moon blog. Perhaps it went to visit the Land of the Lost Socks. You'd think the least it could have done is bring back a coconut cake from my grandmother's kitchen.