We slept in this morning.
It was grand.
The plumbers were coming to give us a brand new, ultra-sophisticated inside laundry (okay, put in fittings so we can jam the washing machine in our bathroom). The boss man said they'd be around sometime in the day, probably the morning. So I figured that meant sometime in the afternoon or maybe tomorrow. Anyway, we'd have to hang around to let them in, ergo, no playgroup, ergo.... a lovely lie in. Eventually, at about 8.20 the Sprocket blearily awoke (the Poppet and I had been talking sleepily for a couple of hours) and we began our daily getting-up-routine. I hadn't even started on the coffee my Beloved had left for me and, indeed, was sitting on the toilet when I heard a banging on the door.
Uh-oh.
"Sprocket! Nooooo! Don't open it!"
I knew I was too late. Even as I spoke the Sprocket climbed the couch, swung himself around the living room doorframe and opened the front door. Hastily I slammed the toilet door* and finished my business.
I don't know about you, but I always feel at a disadvantage when I'm in my 'jammies, (luckily respectable flannels) teeth and hair unbrushed and all un-washed and talking with clean, professionally clothed people.
Obviously the first thing the Plumbers did was turn off the water. So no shower. No teeth-brushing. Even if they hadn't been working in the bathroom.
Putting the ABC on for the kids I grabbed up random clothes and slunk into the back shed to change. Awhile back my Beloved did a round of painting and all the doors (bar the toilet door which I insisted he re-hung, painted or not) are half painted... and sitting in the Garden Room... So I couldn't change in the house - except in the toilet, which would be a foot away from where the Plumbers were working and clearly wrong.
So. Changing in the back shed with the fallen in floor and the tattered wood walls. The one next to the laundry shed which also has tattered wood walls and a falling in floor, although not on such a crucial scale. It felt sort of ironic. But it was a nice reminder of what we're saying goodbye to.
Goodbye outdoor laundry. I'm not going to miss you. Hello indoor washing machine, I love you already!
(But I do want those doors up. You listening, Beloved?)
*With two toddlers I only shut the toilet door when there are other adults in the house to supervise. I'm always scared at work I'll forget to shut the toilet door I'm totally out of the habit...)
It was grand.
The plumbers were coming to give us a brand new, ultra-sophisticated inside laundry (okay, put in fittings so we can jam the washing machine in our bathroom). The boss man said they'd be around sometime in the day, probably the morning. So I figured that meant sometime in the afternoon or maybe tomorrow. Anyway, we'd have to hang around to let them in, ergo, no playgroup, ergo.... a lovely lie in. Eventually, at about 8.20 the Sprocket blearily awoke (the Poppet and I had been talking sleepily for a couple of hours) and we began our daily getting-up-routine. I hadn't even started on the coffee my Beloved had left for me and, indeed, was sitting on the toilet when I heard a banging on the door.
Uh-oh.
"Sprocket! Nooooo! Don't open it!"
I knew I was too late. Even as I spoke the Sprocket climbed the couch, swung himself around the living room doorframe and opened the front door. Hastily I slammed the toilet door* and finished my business.
I don't know about you, but I always feel at a disadvantage when I'm in my 'jammies, (luckily respectable flannels) teeth and hair unbrushed and all un-washed and talking with clean, professionally clothed people.
Obviously the first thing the Plumbers did was turn off the water. So no shower. No teeth-brushing. Even if they hadn't been working in the bathroom.
Putting the ABC on for the kids I grabbed up random clothes and slunk into the back shed to change. Awhile back my Beloved did a round of painting and all the doors (bar the toilet door which I insisted he re-hung, painted or not) are half painted... and sitting in the Garden Room... So I couldn't change in the house - except in the toilet, which would be a foot away from where the Plumbers were working and clearly wrong.
So. Changing in the back shed with the fallen in floor and the tattered wood walls. The one next to the laundry shed which also has tattered wood walls and a falling in floor, although not on such a crucial scale. It felt sort of ironic. But it was a nice reminder of what we're saying goodbye to.
Goodbye outdoor laundry. I'm not going to miss you. Hello indoor washing machine, I love you already!
(But I do want those doors up. You listening, Beloved?)
*With two toddlers I only shut the toilet door when there are other adults in the house to supervise. I'm always scared at work I'll forget to shut the toilet door I'm totally out of the habit...)
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