This is a crazy opposite-day thing to say, but: I’m always relieved when Monday rolls around. Monday means the puppy goes to daycare and I can get more done, both for work and around the house. Today though…today I have to begin working my way through the absolute mountain of laundry in the basement and I feel like a high-schooler on final exam day. I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT WAHHHHH.
Why TF do we have so many clothes? Or what seems like hundreds of towels? Enough sheets for a large hotel? And if they’re all downstairs in the laundry sorter what the hell are we wearing/drying off with/sleeping on? I want to give it all away, everything but my caftans and my Gap pants and one set of sheets and one set of towels.
At some point, I suppose we will need clothes for the outside world again. It seems strange now to think of a time where both of us got up every morning and put on different clothes, every day, to leave the house and sit in a room with other people and peck at our laptops. What a waste of time that was!
A while ago I read a tweet that said something like “I wonder if my shoes think I died” and yeah, shoes?!?! I wear my “athletic” shoes when we go for walks but other than that it’s been all socks, all the time since mid-March. In fact, socks I purchased in early February already have holes in them because I’ve been wearing them so much. Soon it will be warm enough for house flip-flops and I am looking forward to the novelty of that moment.
Writing this I am also remembering the white sneakers I bought to wear for strolling around Paris this summer. They are still in the box. :(
Yesterday we took the dogs on another long ramble and had the opportunity to do some trash-picking. It’s a great time to do this because everyone is at home staring at their annoying piles of stuff (see above commentary re: laundry) and then putting it out on the curb. My husband chose an old wooden toolbox that weighs approximately 1,000 pounds. I did not help him carry it because the first rule of trash-picking is that you must carry your own trash.
Later I was talking over the fence to the neighbors and discovered they had trash-picked the same curb just slightly later than we did and they got lamps and a brand-new cooler. What the hell! Timing is everything when you are scavenging your fancier neighbors’ castoffs. We better up our game because for all I know trash-picking and bartering will be the basis of the economy in several months’ time.
The food part: We made pulled pork on Saturday and used some of it for pizza topping last night, along with red onion, pineapple, and cilantro. My point in telling you this is not to sell you on pineapple as a pizza topping but to sell you on the King Arthur pizza crust recipe. If you read this recipe it will seem like a lot of bother for pizza dough but it has been really successful each time I’ve made it and generally I really suck at pizza dough. It’s true! Ask my husband how many times I have turned pizza into a calzone through the simple act of screwing it up and not being able to get it off the pan or pizza stone.