My Dryer Has Balls

Knowing how many people read my blog, that was kind of hard for me to write.  But it's been said, or written.  And I'm not taking it back.  It's actually an amazing thing.  My dryer's balls.  I'll explain more about them later.

I got the courage to write the above paragraph because of a conversation that my mom, dad and I had earlier today.  My folks sent me a book called My Dog:  The Paradox:  A Lovable Discourse about Man's Best Friend, by Matthew Inman.  Inman talks about the odd to us behaviors that our dogs have.  And this brought to mind a story I told my mom and dad.  It was a play date or momma therapy as we called it.  Our kids were newborn to one year old.  I decided to host.  I bought coffee, organic tea, juice and made bran muffins.  Health was abounding.  I cleaned and cleaned.  It wasn't that my house was dirty, but I had been to momma therapy at a few other houses.  One of these houses was organic as heck and lickably clean.  Like no kidding.  I know that you could have eaten off her floor.  Even the bathroom floor.  I was in simplifiers heaven when I walked through her door.  It smelled like lemons and her decor consisted of white walls, hardwood floors and leather furniture.  I thought for a moment that maybe I should live here.

Back to the play date I was hosting.  I had washed, dusted and vacuumed to the extreme.  And the door bell started to ring.  In came the new mommies and their offspring.  Everyone got situated.  We had had our treats and settled into a circle on the floor like we often did.  Our babies didn't like "tummy time" very much.  But we had discovered something amazing.  If we sat in a circle on the floor and put our babies facing each other on their tummies they loved it!  They giggled and cooed.  Life was good.  One of the mommas commented on the cleanliness of my home and I blushed with gratitude.  She said, with two dogs, I don't know how you do it!  I could not have been prouder.  And if on cue, in they walked.  Chester and Winston.  The babies squealed and the mommas fawned over them.

And then it happened.  One of my dogs, who shall remain nameless, did the butt drag across the floor.  In my mind I was saying oh no, oh no, oh no.  Please don't let this leave a mark.  You know, a poop stain mark.  Well all of the wishing in the world wasn't going to change the brown mark about thirty inches long that was streaking across my carpet full of babies and mommas.  And what happened next I can only attribute to temporary insanity.  I said, oh that hardly ever happens.  It's because he needs his anal glands expressed.  I better move that up in priority on my to do list!  Almost all of the mommas laughed.  The one that didn't was Mrs. Superclean.   I decided that I no longer needed to live with her.  Luckily I have a very strong self esteem.

Anyway, back to my dryer's balls.  I am constantly looking for simpler ways to do things.  I want to simplify and be friendly to the environment.  And there they were.  These felted wool balls that are for your dryer.  They bounce around your wet clothes and help separate them while drying.  It helps the air circulation be more efficient and actually cuts time off drying.  I did experiment with this and sure enough, they work.  And because I love to have fun, and because I love to be funny, I had to tell you that my dryer has balls.  Please don't ask me what color these balls are.  I am sharing my fun gradually and I'm just not ready to be THAT funny!

Spaghetti For Breakfast

Scott was away at a two week class on the east coast.  We were happy that he had this awesome opportunity to learn from the best at the FBI Academy.  We anxiously awaited his calls at  night to hear about his adventures.  And we missed him.

We missed him being with us, but decided to do things a little differently.  We decided to do some of the things that we don't normally do when Scott's around.  We watched shows that we liked.  We had a spa night without interruption.  And we ate spaghetti.  A lot.  Scott isn't much for red sauces.  He actually gets a stomach ache.  So, it would stand to reason I don't make much with red sauce.  This is a challenge for me, but I've gotten pretty good at avoiding and adapting.

Back to the spaghetti.  We made a huge batch.  You know.  The kind you make when you're starving and think that you'll eat more than you actually do.  This was fine for us.  We ate it for supper.  And a another supper.  I warmed it up for lunch again and again.  With all this noodle nibbling I thought the leftovers would disappear sooner.  They seemed endless.  And yet we didn't tire of this favorite meal.

One morning Gracie and I were getting ready for school.  I said what would you like for breakfast?  She looked thoughtful.  How about spaghetti?  Really?  Ok.  I don't see why not.  And we ate the final  helping of spaghetti.  I have to admit I was apprehensive.  Who eats spaghetti for breakfast?  Cold pizza, yes.  But this was different.  As we sat and ate I thought, who says we can't have this meal at this time of the day?  It's warm, it's nutritious and gave us the energy that we needed to start our day.

I thought this would be our little secret.  That was until I got to work.  I worked at Gracie's school.  I was barely through the front door and greeted by a member of the staff with, spaghetti for breakfast?  And then another and another.  Really?  Spaghetti?  And I found myself defending my actions.  We ate well, warm and have energy.  Lots of joking ensued and I have to admit it was all worth it.  Unusual news travels.  Especially when it comes from a giddy first grader.

I've pretty much stuck to actual breakfast foods in the morning since then.  But on occasion I will venture from the norm.  I think I'm better for it.  I'm not wasting food and my hunger is satisfied.  Like this morning.  I went to the grocery store.  As I was putting the groceries away I saw a small container of chili in the refrigerator.  It pains me to throw food away.  And I was hungry.  So guess what I had for breakfast?  Here's to spontaneity.  And here's hoping that we always leave ourselves open to looking at things differently.