You know you're back from holiday when you've scaled Mount Bright, only to find that Peak Dark, The White Ranges, and The Light Alps are spread out in front of you like a panorama, and the phrase 'hours to go before we sleep' keeps rattling round your mind...
Yes, your used clothes have exploded out of your suitcases like ectoplasm from a Ghostbuster's villain. The washing marathon following any holiday of more than a few hours has begun.
Your bedroom looks like a chinese laundry, and the washing basket has disappeared completely behind piles of clothes, probably not to be seen again until some time at the end of next Tuesday. You don't need to draw the curtains when you go to bed since no-one can see in past the foothills and in any case, you can't reach them without a pick-axe and breathing equipment.
Sighing heavily as you despatch a team of sherpas to carry yet another load to the washing machine, you do complicated mental arithmetic to work out how much more you can fit on the airer, whether tomorrow's weather will be good enough to dry anything outside (this is England, and it's April. You're dreaming), and wonder if leaving the tumble dryer going all night will mean that you are environmentally beyond the pale. You decide you don't care as you realise - and curse - the fact that you foolishly allowed the laundry to build up even before you left for your trip, and vow never to let it happen again.
Until next weekend, anyway, when you get back from your visit with your parents.
And let's not even talk about the handwashing. Those pretty summer dresses that won't be needed here until quite possibly July. Or at least, not outside of the catch-all 'jeans and dress combo' beloved of mums desperately trying to jazz up their normal jeans and t-shirt combo. So they will sit sadly and guilt-makingly at the bottom of the laundry hamper until I can bring myself to deal with them. Which will probably not be until the weather does actually warm up, and by the time I then get round to washing them, drying them (not in the tumble dryer, of course - that would be far too easy!), and then ironing them, it will have cooled down again.
Marilyn Moore on the Kings Road, I love you. But please; more machine-washable stuff?
The horror of the after hol wash. It brings me out in a rash thinking about it.
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't matter whether it's a weekend or a week there is still the same amount.
It's the poor children that suffer ... when there is nothing left to wear but a pair of half masts and a t-shirt 2 years too small.
And the stinky smell of them, isn't that the worst? Dirty clothes pulled from a suitcase always smell bad.
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ReplyDeleteWelcome back (and well done for blogging from your holiday - how dedicated is that?)
ReplyDeleteIt took me two weeks to get to the bottom of the neverending dirty washing basket after skiing. Because by the time you finish the holiday washing, everything else has mounted up....and let's not even start on the ironing.
Happy Easter Potty! I must be mad, we're heading to Brighton for a couple of days and from there to Florence. I've just finished a marathon ironing session (I discovered my iron when not working) and will heed your advice about the washing. We're going to pack light so I can pack the suitcase with olive oil, parmesan, prada and hopefully a nice rich Italian Count
ReplyDeleteCatching up on your last few posts. Oo the mountain of holiday washing - yuk!
ReplyDeleteMay check that book out though. Three boys! Oy!
Irene's comment made me stop and think about it and ya! bleah!
ReplyDeleteI love doing laundry for some reason.
But here - not a clothesline in sight. I'm not sure if we're not allowed them or what that's all about but everyone uses a drier. Despicable isn't it?
And - who irons? Are you nuts! Steam girl. Get thee a steamer!
Laura, and the worst thing is that we're off to my parents shortly and whilst I will be able to keep up with our laundry there, the holiday stuff will STILL be waiting for me when we get back...
ReplyDeleteIrene, you put it so nicely...
NVG, yes, that's the killer; the fact that whilst you're dealing with the holiday stuff the boys have the temerity to continue wearing and getting clean clothes dirty. How dare they?
Nixdminx, best of luck with the Italian Count. Though I hear they often use handbags - just make sure he doesn't snaffle yours...
WM, do, I hope you enjoy it!
Aims, really? On the drier thing I mean? Maybe it's too humid there to line-dry properly (or am I just being over-charitable?)