Our marriage is a traditional one. Pauly does all the man things and I do all the woman things.
Hang on a minute!?! I mow the lawns, milk cows, wind up electric fences, get cows in, take heavy equipment to be repaired, split logs, get fire wood and sometimes do things with hammers, nails, saws, screws and screw drivers. On second thoughts we have a semi-traditional marriage. Pauly does man things and I do woman and man things. But then again perhaps that is a traditional marriage.
Pauly knows how to use a washing machine although one could be forgiven for thinking that he can’t. When I first met him he took his good shirts (that is non-farm shirts) to the dry cleaners to be washed! I thought he had money to burn but no, he was just non-domesticated and wasn’t sure how to wash them. The very first time he ever used the washing machine here in the farm house (not quite two years ago) he washed his mobile phone. Say no more. Get out of the laundry Pauly and leave that
#$$%%^^ jolly washing machine alone.
Fussy. That’s what I am. I’m a fussy domestic goddess when it comes to washing. Whites and coloureds are separated. Things that might put fluff on other things are washed alone; but most of all I am a devotee of the lingerie bag. The lingerie bag and I have a special relationship because I know their worth. And they are worth millions! They look after delicate items of clothing beautifully. They prolong the loveliness of those delicates way passed when they should be looking worn. Yes the humble lingerie bag – true love! I have travel ones that are always neatly placed and ready in my suit case such is my adoration of these simple little zipped fabric bags.
In my family I do the washing. End of story. No one is fussy enough to do it right so everyone keeps out of the laundry. Both my daughters (Brown-eyed daughter #1 and Blondie daughter #1 are devotees of the lingerie bag. I bought them both a set when they moved out of home to go to uni. The apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree! But they are still not allowed to do the washing at my house! Such is the serious nature of this routine task. And it is serious! Serious business. What would happen if there were no clean clothes in the house? Not nice, let’s not go there.
Yes, I do the washing! And with the huge volume and delicate nature of running clothes, taking my role of Washing Machine Warrior to heart has never paid higher dividends. Our running clothes stay in new-looking conditions for ages!
To my horror this morning, one of the chaps who runs with our group was lamenting the fact that his wife of not quite three years hadn’t been doing the washing! He had been forced to put on dirty running gear! Brave man, he said this about his wife (who we know and love) in front of six women in the group. We giggled! He actually said that he was going to have to buy more running clothes because his wife was so slack with her duties! And he said that she doesn’t do it right anyway. She doesn’t separate colours and darks and will deliberately put something in that will spoil the load (the old red sock with white shirt equals pink wash scenario). He said all this tongue-in-cheek because after some gentle teasing and laughing he fessed up and said he in fact does all the washing. He and his wife both work full time and have evenly distributed the household chores and he got the Washing Machine Warrior position. He said he’s very good at separating colours and things like that.
I was impressed for a few short moments. But only a few moments…
GASP! But then he said he puts his running clothes in the tumble dryer! AND (worst of all) he’s never heard of a lingerie bag! Speechless was I. Those poor defenceless running clothes thrown in a washing machine, being snagged on zips, Velcro and all things rough then suffering the heat and humidity from a tumble dryer with yet more snagging… Ugh! The Unsporty Woman shakes her head in disbelief. Then again this chap actually thought that it was humid today! Perhaps he has trouble determining temperature. He is from the northern climes of the UK so maybe today was humid to him – third month of winter and 9°C? A warmer day yes, but hardly humid to the average Australian.
Oh well, each to their own. I will remain a passionate Washing Machine Warrior and a devotee of the lingerie bag. A domestic goddess who forbids the resident farmer from touching any buttons on her machine.
Happy running 🙂
PS What an epic weekend of running. Apart from all the running (and keeping up with the laundry) I had to milk both Saturday and Sunday afternoons and had my Brown-eyed daughter home from Western Australia. I’ve been zooming all over the place! Tonight it’s a glass of red in front of the fire and an early night. Monday is the official start of Marathon Training!
Here are a few happy snaps from the weekend
AND – Pauly was able to take some happy snaps of a happy platypus on the farm. The playtpus was so engrossed with finding yummy treats that he didn’t even notice The Old Farmer getting closer, or perhaps he knew that there was nothing to fear. The platypus was out and about in some flooded pasture.