When I enlisted in the Marines I was even more clueless than I am now. Knowing little about what my enlistment would entail away I went. Bed making was no surprise, there was enough folklore about regulations about making beds in the services that was as was expected. Using the old fashioned bayonets to measure the folds was an interesting wrinkle: ten inch blade for the distance from the head of the bed to the fold and the four inch handle to measure the width of the fold. Folding clothes was not a skill that I expected the drill instructors to teach. But neatly folded clothes were an expectation and on inspection day they had to be neatly displayed on the bed.
For several years prior to Joanne's death I had been doing our laundry. It gradually became my duty to wash and dry but Joanne never relinquished the folding. No matter how proficient the Marines made me about folding it didn't meet Joanne's specs. With Joanne gone folding became my task. Now I fold regularly but without need for perfection. Having even learned to fold king size, fitted sheets I'm quite satisfied with my proficiency
All this reflection about folding came to mind when I read Pickles today. My approach to fitted sheets was once "scrunching" until a friend gave me a tip that's made them manageable. They still are not done as well as Joanne did them but they lie neatly on the shelf which is all that's needed.
Takk for alt,
Al
No comments:
Post a Comment