It has not just been Clean Sheets Day. It has been Clean Everything Day.
The washing machine has carried on churning all day, and there are still two more loads awaiting its vacancy.
This is because it was our day for clean sheets, and also Jack’s day for clean sheets, and towels as well. This might sound a bit dysfunctional in a house with limited drying space and an unpredictable relationship with the Weather Gods, because it would be far more sensible to stagger sheet-laundering. Nevertheless, I am far too set in my ways to change my own bed linen habits, and Jack goes away on Monday evenings, so he strips his bed on his way out. I can shove everything in the washing machine confident in the knowledge that the Weather Gods can do their worst, because I have got plenty of drying time before he comes back again on Wednesday night.
We stripped our bed and Jack stripped his, and I staggered downstairs with a huge armful of other laundry.
When I reached the washing machine I stopped in astonishment. Of course I had forgotten that Oliver was coming home, and with him had come his sheets and laundry as well.
He had arrived some time in the middle of the night, late because he had taken a detour to visit his friend Kin-Wai in Loughborough, and there was no sign of him even when we went to bed at two. He would make a very good burglar, because he managed to creep right past the sleeping dogs and our open bedroom door without any of us stirring, and had it not been for the washing and his car parked next to the dustbins in the alley, I would never have known he was there. Mark said that it is because of all of the martial arts training that he is doing, and probably he could become a ninja when he grows up.
He was blinking and sleepy when he emerged, not long after we did, because despite being up for most of the night, he had still got to work this morning, and he hovered around the fridge eating sausages for a little while before dashing off.
Mostly after that I seemed to be doing laundry. I do not know what it is about having a house full of people, but even if they don’t want anything it is enough to keep a person very busy, and I did not even get round to the dusting, so it is lurking in wait for me in order to spoil my afternoon tomorrow.
It rained. There is drying laundry draped about absolutely everywhere. I mean everywhere.
Oliver and Jack are both working at the same place, where they are cleaning in order to raise some extra cash. They rolled in this afternoon full of stories about cleaning things, until Oliver yawned and sloped off back to bed.
I am very pleased that they are becoming so experienced, because I think I would like to clean our house before Christmas, and some extra pairs of hands will be very useful. I am sure they will both volunteer enthusiastically when I drop the idea tactfully into conversation.
Mark was heading off to Lucy’s to fit her new stove. I would have quite liked to go as well, but the usual pecuniary concerns intervened, and instead I had to stay here and concentrate on laundry and cash generation. I wasn’t entirely sorry about this. Mark and Jack hauled the stove through the back yard with the usual time-honoured method of rolling it along over scaffolding tubes, and then heaved it up a ramp into the trailer. I do not think it will be fun to try and get it out again. Probably they will have to reverse at high speed and then stop suddenly.
LATER NOTE
I have just had a text from Lucy. She has got Mark and Jack at her house now. They are talking about welding, turbos and plumbing, and she is wondering how to make her face look as though it belongs to an interested person.
I reassured her that neither of them would notice even if she yawned and nodded off.
Probably it is no bad thing that I have stayed here.
Some things are even duller than laundry.
