1 : a second-growth crop —called also rowen
2 : consequence , resultaftermath of the accident
3 : the period immediately following a usually ruinous eventaftermath of the war
I generally think of it along two lines of thought: calorically and housecleaningwise. And of course there is no such word as housecleaningwise, but you get the picture. Or you would if you saw my house.
This morning, as the alarm went off, I muttered, as I always do after vacations and three day weekends, "I could use one more day." And I could. The laundry pile is being nominated to join the 4,000 footers club, the refrigerator empty, the floors resemble a desert, and very flat surface is covered with vacation clutter.
This family lives for days off. State, federal, religious days off are met with work stoppage. Especially when the entertaining surrounding said day off is not taking place here. For then we prepare to depart, we depart, and then we return -- and no one else has to see the glass of water that has taken up residence by the sofa, just in case a coughing attack comes on during a movie marathon. Or the pile of books, paper, and cardboard stacked by the door, ready to be recycled via the school book sale and town recycling center. Or the sewing machine and all the other associated bits and pieces required for sewing spread from the kitchen to the living room, by way of the dining room.
For some reason during days off, no one is this family feels the need to take care of the kitchen. Meals get made. Meals get eaten. Dishes get glanced at. Now, I live here too, and being the usual pot scrubber and bottle washer I do notice I tend to take the lazy way out regarding dishes. Especially when I find that I can't get to the sink due to others piling up their plates and cups instead of loading the dishwasher , or God forbid emptying it.
A clean sign on the dishwasher has been know to cause a total weekend work stoppage. Imagine, 4 pair of hands, besides my own, and all unable to unload. It starts subtle enough with a cup or glass next to the sink. For why would anyone waste their time emptying an entire dishwasher for just a small drinking vessel. But then a stack builds, spreading beyond the counter and down into the sink, normally reserved for rinsing the dirties. No rinsing means no loading. No loading means no clean dishes; forgetting the load of clean beauties was the reason for the back up to begin with. But I digress.
Boy did Nana cook an Easter meal yesterday. The lamb was so tender, and the polenta devine. Brussel sprouts and carrot and turnip were cooked to perfection, all followed up with the little one's lemon meringue pie.
This morning plowing through her morning bowl of oatmeal my oldest said, "I can't believe I'm eating again." I know the feeling. I can't say I want anything more than a cup of coffee for the next week and a half. In the case of the student, she has an exam today and needed a healthy breakfast to fire those test answers from her grey matter to her pencil. "Eat," I said, "you have an exam." I did notice she declined the little baggie of Easter candy I included in her lunch. Her comment,"Please, Mom..." and I understood.
2 : consequence , result
3 : the period immediately following a usually ruinous event
I generally think of it along two lines of thought: calorically and housecleaningwise. And of course there is no such word as housecleaningwise, but you get the picture. Or you would if you saw my house.
This morning, as the alarm went off, I muttered, as I always do after vacations and three day weekends, "I could use one more day." And I could. The laundry pile is being nominated to join the 4,000 footers club, the refrigerator empty, the floors resemble a desert, and very flat surface is covered with vacation clutter.
This family lives for days off. State, federal, religious days off are met with work stoppage. Especially when the entertaining surrounding said day off is not taking place here. For then we prepare to depart, we depart, and then we return -- and no one else has to see the glass of water that has taken up residence by the sofa, just in case a coughing attack comes on during a movie marathon. Or the pile of books, paper, and cardboard stacked by the door, ready to be recycled via the school book sale and town recycling center. Or the sewing machine and all the other associated bits and pieces required for sewing spread from the kitchen to the living room, by way of the dining room.
For some reason during days off, no one is this family feels the need to take care of the kitchen. Meals get made. Meals get eaten. Dishes get glanced at. Now, I live here too, and being the usual pot scrubber and bottle washer I do notice I tend to take the lazy way out regarding dishes. Especially when I find that I can't get to the sink due to others piling up their plates and cups instead of loading the dishwasher
A clean sign on the dishwasher has been know to cause a total weekend work stoppage. Imagine, 4 pair of hands, besides my own, and all unable to unload. It starts subtle enough with a cup or glass next to the sink. For why would anyone waste their time emptying an entire dishwasher for just a small drinking vessel. But then a stack builds, spreading beyond the counter and down into the sink, normally reserved for rinsing the dirties. No rinsing means no loading. No loading means no clean dishes; forgetting the load of clean beauties was the reason for the back up to begin with. But I digress.
Boy did Nana cook an Easter meal yesterday. The lamb was so tender, and the polenta devine. Brussel sprouts and carrot and turnip were cooked to perfection, all followed up with the little one's lemon meringue pie.
This morning plowing through her morning bowl of oatmeal my oldest said, "I can't believe I'm eating again." I know the feeling. I can't say I want anything more than a cup of coffee for the next week and a half. In the case of the student, she has an exam today and needed a healthy breakfast to fire those test answers from her grey matter to her pencil. "Eat," I said, "you have an exam." I did notice she declined the little baggie of Easter candy I included in her lunch. Her comment,"Please, Mom..." and I understood.
1 comment:
I know that feeling with the dishwasher and days off. Sometimes when Tom is traveling for work, I get that feeling - after all I'm the only adult in the house. It's not like the boys are going to complain - as long as there are more clean dishes that is. Even Moms need a day off now and again.
Ahhh....back to work Easter Monday and Christmas Mondays are particularly hard. Good luck to returning the house to normal.
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