Monday, March 27, 2017

Clothes Ringer

My washing machine hates towels. The machine gets off balance and jumps walking across the basement floor. Rebalancing is an art in itself so instead of trying I wring out the towels by hand and resume my day. I would LOVE to find an old fashioned wooden ringer that my sister and I used at Saxon Woods when we were kids. Those were the days.

I am listening to Quebec Radio and it's amazing how much American Jazz they play. I "travel" reading recipes and playing music. I am more of a homebody than anyone I know except for M I'd rather walk around the block and do all of my baking and cooking myself. If I could travel by dog and bicycle only I'd be content. There used to be a guy in Woonsocket's market square who made a cart that he would sit in pulled by his two sheep dogs, but the city shut him down.

There's a mourning dove at my window on the line perched in the pouring rain. He's huge fat and gray. He is either my father or my grandfather checking up on me.

No comments: