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| IronRite |
Angie's desk is at the end of a longish aisle and some people hover and wait for her to notice them - even though her back is to the opening. Others, like me, trot right in unless she's on the phone or involved in a conversation with someone I don't feel comfy barging in on.
My back is to the opening of my cubicle and lots of people try to make some type of knocking noise to get my attention. When I'm deep in thought, it usually scares the heck out of me! There is a little doorbell sticker on the support beam in my cube, but it doesn't really work.
I can recognize some of my co-worker's distinct walks without even turning around - which brings me to the family portion of this blog. The house we grew up in had a huge laundry room and Mom seemed to spend lots of time there - smoking and laundering. The laundry room contained the usual stuff - washer/dryer combo, a table where Mom would lay out folded clothes and a utility sink with 2 sides where she could bleach and soak stuff.
There was also a row of hooks where we could hang up coats and a place for boots - great for winter. She insisted we use this entrance from the patio during sledding playtime. There was a mounted pop bottle top remover (for Dad's poker parties no doubt) and a phone mounted on a wall with an extra long cord so you could even talk in the next room - with the TV in it.
On the end of the room, a clothes line was strung up so she could hang stuff as she took them out of the washer or after ironing. The ironing board was set up right below it. And the focal point of the room was the IronRight. It was a huge machine she used to iron sheets - but I even learned to use it to iron tee shirts. You had to watch out cuz it could sure screw up the pressed on applique! And the controls are knee operated and could shock you!
The ceiling of our laundry room was never finished and insulated. So you could hear everything through it. Mom didn't bother to march around through the TV room and up the stairs to yell at us - she'd just yell through the floor. And she liked to yell at Susi about the way she stomped on the floor when she walked. Evidently Susi didn't float like a graceful young woman at that time. Mom would yell, "quit stomping!"
I wonder what it sounded like when Betso was doing her flippy flops in the living room?
1 comment:
you forgot to add that by the time I learned how to use the "mangle" it was getting a little old (hand me down from Momo, from what I heard--or maybe I dreamed that?) that it would give you a little zing in your knee when you were wearing shorts in the summer. Maybe that is why my hair is so curly?
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