Max doesn't seem too impressed with Bella's laundry attempt.
The laundry room caught on fire (again) today. The smoke billowed up through the building and into our apartment, so I’m out on the balcony listening to the construction and the jackhammers. They’ve told us not to leave, but the firemen left, so I’m thinking of leaving as well. The last time this happened was October 1, 2008. I blogged about it then and that post could have been written today:
Post from October 1, 2008 on the old sruble blog
How’s life at the Inferno Apartment Complex on Incendiary Lane? Glad you asked. Earlier today, I smelled smoke. I tried to find the cause of said smoke, but couldn’t. A few minutes later, a thick heavy smoke smell filled the room (and I couldn’t breathe, which was very disconcerting). It also seemed a little hazy. I did the smoke check again and discovered that there was smoke wafting in from the hallway (I did NOT open the door, as I am not addle-brained).
While throwing on jeans (no need to go outside in my Halloween themed PJ pants I wear sometimes while being creative), I made a mental list of things I needed to do if there was a fire: encourage LeFurrball to get into his carrier without too much of a fight (ha ha), put on shoes, grab the Remus kitty, car keys, laptop, ID, money … FLEE! (Note: If there were flames or more smoke, I would have grabbed the cat and bolted.)
Before enacting my fire-fleeing list, I called down to the concierges to see if they could elaborate on the disaster that was surely happening, or not. He said that someone’s clothes caught on fire in the dryer!
Our apartment is nowhere near the first floor, where the laundry room is; the smoke came up through the elevator shafts and the vents in our apartment. Our apartment is not smoky anymore because the windows are open and the vents and bottom of the door are blocked off, but the hallways, elevators, lobby, and laundry room are evil smelling. I feel bad for the people with burned clothes.
The fact that someone’s clothing started a fire in the dryer didn’t surprise me. A few months ago, I noticed that clothing coming out of the dryer was so hot, that you would get burned if you touched it (fabric, not just metal zippers). We’ve been drying our clothes on medium or low since then. Dryer fires are scary and charred clothing is not fashionable.
I hope this isn’t a pattern, but just in case, remind me to look out for laundry fires again in 2012. I really wish I would have done laundry yesterday! Argh!
p.s. Unfortunately, I can’t find the pictures from last time. I haven’t been downstairs yet, but I’m guessing it looks similar. Imagine an industrial sized dryer with burn marks that looks a bit like a melted marshmallow, if you only held the marshmallow up to the campfire on one side.
By: moonrat,
on 3/27/2009
I have a cousin who is two years younger and 8 1/2 inches shorter than I am, but she is rather more robust of figure and somehow we were of fairly compatible clothing sizes. This meant that during my junior high period I would frequently receive allocations of hand-me-ups in big brown trash bags--mostly shirts, some skirts and dresses.
This whole pattern suited me fine, because I had already embarked on my Erasmus-esque dissolution and prefered wasting all my money on books instead of on stylish (or fitting) clothes. I wore those hand-me-ups, and I wore them hard. In particular, there was one turquoise long-sleeved ribbed tshirt. It fit better than anything else I'd ever gotten from her, and I wore it at least once a week throughout junior and senior high. Overly frequent washing led to some shrinkage, until it emitted a short line of midriff and was no longer appropriate to wear to school.
In college, I was on the crew team. In the winter, we had to go out on the water (which, by the way, is WET, and cold and splashes) wearing only skin-tight elements that wouldn't get caught in the oars. Thus was the turquoise tshirt reintroduced into my wardrobe; it basically fit the bill. So every weekday morning at 5:45 I would run a mile in that shirt to the boathouse, work out like a maniac, run back to my dorm, rinse it out in my sink, and hang it to dry for the next morning. I sweated in it, bled on it (rowers sustain various disgusting injuries), and wiped my poor desperately runny nose on it constantly (rowing in the winter=not nice).
Needless to say, when that whole piece of my life was over the turquoise tshirt was permanently retired. Would *you* ever want to wear that thing again?! But I didn't throw it away. I was a little nostalgic, and, after all, you never know what day might come. And indeed, in the, um, many years since it has come in handy during times of spring cleaning or winter gym-going (that one time I went, that other year).
Aaaand it came in handy this morning, when I put it on to wear to work. Yes, my friends, that is our current laundry situation.
Let it be known that Janet Reid is so worried about my person and health that she has offered to come over and do my laundry for me. (Actually, that was more than a week ago, wasn't it, Janet?) I politely declined. I'm a big girl; I can do my own laundry. Eventually.
By: Charles Hodgson,
on 2/12/2009
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When I think of laundry I think of that pile of stuff that gets dragged or tossed down into the basement to be put into the machine, and later the things that need to be put back in drawers and hung in closets.
But 
although the word first laundry came into English in 1530, it didn’t mean what I mean here until 1916.
For most of the time it didn’t mean the stuff that got washed but the action of washing and the place where you did the washing.
Going further back, in 1377 it wasn’t laundry but lavandry from Old French. In French lavé is “to wash” and that’s why we sometimes call the bathroom the lavatory.
The French word came from Latin lavandarius, also “to wash,” but that in turn came from another Latin word lavanda which were “the things to be washed,” so we’ve come full circle.
There is a striking similarity between the medieval word lavandry and the name of the flower lavender and this caused early etymologists to go digging for evidence that lavender scent was used for washing or bathing.
Hard looks at the scanty clues got them thinking instead that maybe the blue flower’s name was more related to turning blue with livid anger than to laundry the word or odiferous pile.
Tracing word histories always isn’t a clean process.
By: Beth Kephart ,
on 1/21/2009
Two years gone and still your hand
Lifts over the notes we sang to ease you
Home. Winter, and the dark had fallen
Through. Your future then
Was the tricking back
Past time. The smell of laundry
Hung to dry. The strand
of pearls you dared to buy.
The day your mother
Died. Your future was your sight,
Which had gone before you,
And your words,
Eclipsed now, too,
And your hand lifting over the notes we sang,
As if we might go with you, touched.
By: Kim Wheedleton,
on 11/26/2008
As we in the United States check off our to-do lists in preparation for our Thanksgiving holiday, I offer this council:
By: moonrat,
on 10/26/2008
[on the way to the laundromat]
Rally Monkey: We only have $10. I might have to get more money.
YT: No, $10 will be more than enough.
RM: With all this?! I bet it won't!
YT: Trust me, it will be just fine.
RM: You can't go and jam all of this into one washer!
YT: Wanna bet?
RM: You really remind me of my mother sometimes.
YT: *I* remind you of *your* mother?!
RM: Yeah. She always wanted to do everything her own way, even when she didn't know what she was doing. Then she would go and screw everything up and my father, who was right all along, would have to come and fix everything.
YT: Don't talk to me about your father and laundry!! Your father is the one who reserved all the bacon fat and lumpia frying oil and made soap out of it!
RM: You're right, that was stupid.
YT: You kids walked around smelling like fried breakfast!
RM: That was one time only.
[later, coming home]
RM: I can't believe you rushed off from the laundromat without drying any of your clothes just because you can't stand around and wait for a dryer to be free.
YT: Dude, I have to be somewhere in like an hour. I don't have time to dry. I'll hang these up to dry at home.
RM: Everything will smell like mold!
YT: It will be just fine.
RM: Your life is toooo important to have clean clothes and to not smell like dirty socks?
YT: That's right.
RM: You know what you remind me of? The little kid story with the grasshopper and the ant. The ant works hard all summer to save up for the winter, and the grasshopper just plays around.
YT: Then the kids come and fry the ants with their magnifying glass?
RM: No, then the grasshopper comes and steals the ant's socks.
[later, hanging up all the undried socks and underwear everywhere in the house]
RM: You really need to do your laundry more often! Then you wouldn't run out of your own socks and have to steal mine like a sock monster.
YT: You know, maybe you should seek help for your persecution complex. After all, look at all the trouble a persecution complex got Nixon into.
RM: I recognize these socks! I bought them with my own money!
YT: Wow. How troubling. I'm really worried about you, because I think that you actually believe that these were once your socks. The most insidious kind of persecution complex of all.
RM: [weeps]
[suspending socks on a shoestring tied between doors]
RM: This will never work! This was a bad idea!
YT: You wouldn't know a bad idea if it hit you in the head. Or you wouldn't have gotten mixed up with me in the first place.
RM: You're right! Bad idea!
[He's now on the phone with my mother. Boo.]
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By: andrea joseph,
on 8/11/2008
I'd love to say that this was all my own idea, but I can't do that. I saw the very excellent Susan Rudat's washing machine drawing and thought 'why oh why wasn't that my idea'. Then I stole it.
And, here's a pile of dirty clothes thrown in free of charge. I'm too good to you.
By: Sylvia Vardell,
on 4/18/2008
On this date in 1934, the first Laundromat, called a “washeteria” was opened in Fort Worth, TX. Right in my own backyard, so to speak. [Thanks, Lee BH, for that tidbit from Days to Celebrate: A Full Year of Poetry, People, Holidays, History, Fascinating Facts, and More (New York: Greenwillow, 2005).]
How about some poetry about laundry?
Sock Eater
by Betsy Rosenthal
On laundry days
my mother says
the dryer is a crook.
It’s all because
a sock is gone—
the one the dryer took.
I tell my mom she shouldn’t
let the dryer
see us eat.
It’s sure to munch a sock or two
because it craves a treat.
From: Rosenthal, Betsy R. 2004. My House is Singing. Illus. by Margaret Chodos-Irvine. San Diego: Harcourt.
I’ve written about this anthology before and cited “My House’s Night Song” as my tribute poem when I moved into my new home last December. I continue to find more gems as I pore over this collection. And if you need more laundry poetry, look for:
Janeczko, Paul B., comp. 2001. Dirty Laundry Pile: Poems in Different Voices. illus. Melissa Sweet. New York: HarperCollins. (however not ALL the poems are about laundry!)
As we say in Texas—who’da thunk it? Poetry about laundry?!
Picture credit: www.jupiterimages.com
By: Anna Boll,
on 1/31/2008
Here is a unique idea in the world of gallery shows. "Fill in the Blanks" marries art and performance art by providing canvases, frames and lumps of clay for artists to develop over the course of the show dates. Mary Brooking of the Maine Illustrators' collective will be one of the featured artists.
I am busy prepping for my trip to New York. The SCBWI conference does not start until Friday, the 8th but I am going early to show my portfolio to Art Directors and do research at the New York Public Library and meet up with friends and family. A week away from home! ACK! I've thrown myself into a whirlwind of laundry, packing, and list making. Lists for portfolio revisions, lists for what to take, lists of addresses and phone numbers, subway maps, amtrak timetables... I like traveling, love the train, and can't wait to visit the city but I am a little nervous too.
A list:
1. Remember to breathe
2. Work on Chapter 2, Ballet
3. Revise cat montage
4. Finalize portfolio, make sure you have 2, dummy books attached
5. Pack clothing
6. Pack sketch book, traveling drawing kit.
7. Confirm appointments
8. Mapquest directions for Providence train station
9. Highlight relevant subway routes.
10. Check on subway passcard for the week
11. Society of Illustration hours?
12. Breathe.
By: Anna Boll,
on 6/12/2007
I haven't posted much recently. That's because my arm was partially eaten by a giant pile of laundry. I have figured out that if I am wearing the right glasses I can fold laundry and catch up on my friends list, but I can't comment or write my own posts. I have also been in research land.
I love research land. I love gathering resources, filling out interlibrary loan applications, and picking up the books when they arrive. I love the way index cards fit in your hand. I love the sound they make when you ca-chunk them together after a particularly successful day of taking notes. The problem is that I love it so much, I could go on reading and taking notes for a long time without doing my own writing.
So, for the month of June I pledge to:
Write the first chapter of my non-fiction WIP, and start Chapter two.
Complete note taking for my fiction WIP with the three books I have out now. (Due June 26 anyhow.)
Revise Roar illustrations.
That is if the giant pile of laundry doesn't find...no...not now... I have important research to do! Ahhhhhhhhh!
By: Pam Coughlan,
on 1/17/2007
I have today off work. I usually work on Wednesday, so this is actually an extra day of freedom in my week. I should be using this time to clean up my so very messy house. And I did a little bit of cleaning. But mostly...not.
I read a book. Desperate Journey. I liked it. I'll talk about it later.
I puttered around the Internet. Found this great riff on the new iPhone. (Thanks Daily Nooz).
I ordered two shirts from One Horse Shy, the TEAM PLUTO shirt and the Stewart/Colbert 2008. I debated on the Orange is the New Tan shirt, but went with the others.
I laughed at the Chickens to the Rescue Stage Performance and promptly wondered how I could steal - I mean - use the idea. I enjoyed a review of Toys Go Out over at Seven Impossible Things, and not just for the subtle, anti-Tulane references.
I checked on another kidlitosphere friend to see if we can still help her win a photo contest and we can.
I threw in a load of wash. And then another. And there will probably be at least one more. I'll fold the clothes and match the socks - oh so many socks - during the American Idol show I recorded. Don't scoff, it's the perfect laundry-folding show.
I need to put my sweaters in my dresser drawers, because apparently it is no longer going to be a balmy seventy degrees, but actually winter. And it's January, so probably about time I got around to putting the cold weather clothes in my room rather then pulling sweatshirts out of the boxes one at a time.
But in the book world, a post in Finding Wonderland started me thinking about how I organize my thoughts about books. As I am done with a book, I make notes. Sometimes its just little reminders, a quote from the book, or a thought I had while reading. Sometimes I basically write the whole post. I tried writing in a notebook, but I kept misplacing it. I tried writing in a word document, but I found I would want to add to it at work. Now I send my notes in an email to myself and file the message in a reviews folder until I want to use it. Some, I suspect, will never be used. Some I use the next day, it just depends what I feel inspired to write about it.
So, while I winterize my wardrobe, only three months behind schedule, comment and discuss your own system for remembering, recording, and reviewing books.
This is lovely and bright, a tonic against the grey weather we have today :)