Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I wanna take you where the night never ends
I feel the need to sweep you off your feet
You and me, we should be dancin’ in the sheets
- Shalamar
My garden sparrow had further reason to laugh at me yesterday. It was washing day in Chuxville so after a warm wash, on high water level and fast spin speed my sheets were ready to dry.
(A gripping way to start I know, but wait, it gets better.)
Being Wellington it was as windy as baked bean tasters underwear so after much huffing and puffing I managed to peg up my sheets against the blasting northerly. As I left for my busy day of meetings and brokering I saw a peg fly loose and a sheet billow around in the gale like a Team New Zealand spinnaker. I raced over to the washing line to try and pull it back but with a sudden wind change I found myself completely enveloped in the white cotton. I grabbed at what I could, like a hobbit clutching at Pauline Gillespie's blouse and felt the red mist rise amongst the white, white sheet. Eventually I gained some purchase and yanked as hard as I could. Pegs flew everywhere, narrowly missing my feathered friend who flew to the safety of a lemon tree, while I stamped a muddy footprint on the corner of my white, white sheet. The sparrow shook his head disapprovingly as the sheet spun around on its tether draping me like a bespectacled Nero. And then it was back to square one. Warm wash, high water, spin speed fast.
Bitchin'.
I did think of a new invention though, heated double strength clothes pegs. Double strength of course to counter the Wellington wind, but heated also, because there's that little bit of fabric beneath the pegs that always manages to stay a little wet, and for the life of me, I don't know what to do about it. So there we go, off to invention patents this afternoon.
Oh! Speaking of old ladies, did you hear about that 60 year old woman who wrestled a crocodile off another man in Queensland? Yikes! Wouldn't want to mess with her, but then again I bet she wouldn't muck about getting washing off the line either.
I feel the need to sweep you off your feet
You and me, we should be dancin’ in the sheets
- Shalamar
My garden sparrow had further reason to laugh at me yesterday. It was washing day in Chuxville so after a warm wash, on high water level and fast spin speed my sheets were ready to dry.
(A gripping way to start I know, but wait, it gets better.)
Being Wellington it was as windy as baked bean tasters underwear so after much huffing and puffing I managed to peg up my sheets against the blasting northerly. As I left for my busy day of meetings and brokering I saw a peg fly loose and a sheet billow around in the gale like a Team New Zealand spinnaker. I raced over to the washing line to try and pull it back but with a sudden wind change I found myself completely enveloped in the white cotton. I grabbed at what I could, like a hobbit clutching at Pauline Gillespie's blouse and felt the red mist rise amongst the white, white sheet. Eventually I gained some purchase and yanked as hard as I could. Pegs flew everywhere, narrowly missing my feathered friend who flew to the safety of a lemon tree, while I stamped a muddy footprint on the corner of my white, white sheet. The sparrow shook his head disapprovingly as the sheet spun around on its tether draping me like a bespectacled Nero. And then it was back to square one. Warm wash, high water, spin speed fast.
Bitchin'.
I did think of a new invention though, heated double strength clothes pegs. Double strength of course to counter the Wellington wind, but heated also, because there's that little bit of fabric beneath the pegs that always manages to stay a little wet, and for the life of me, I don't know what to do about it. So there we go, off to invention patents this afternoon.
Oh! Speaking of old ladies, did you hear about that 60 year old woman who wrestled a crocodile off another man in Queensland? Yikes! Wouldn't want to mess with her, but then again I bet she wouldn't muck about getting washing off the line either.
