Last weekend Dave, Nora Jane and I hiked, biked and turkey hunted (more on this later) the woods above Lyle, Washington, in the Columbia River Gorge. Lyle is just a hop, skip, and one bridge ride away from the town of Hood River, Oregon. One of our favorite places to relax and play. And if Nora Jane is along, a fun place to get ice cream cones and shop for books.
It wasn't the ice cream and the shopping, however, that created the large mountains of dirty clothing that have over-taken my laundry room. For unlike our summer excursions, this trip was wet, muddy, and wet. Did I say muddy?
So this morning, when Nora Jane and I walked by the laundry room and I commented that this was how I would be spending my day, I was shocked (surprised, and a little miffed) when she looked at me and laughed. And not just a little chuckle. I'm talking full-bellied, hearty laughter.
I'm hoping she was just confused about what I was saying. That she was still tired from her busy weekend. That she doesn't really get pleasure from seeing her mother labor.
And, I'm telling you, if I wasn't so anal about keeping dirty laundry on the floor, especially dirty laundry, that could very possibly be infested with ticks, I'd have half-a-mind (as my mom says) to make her do her own darn laundry.
Since it's now 3:13, and, apparently, I'm still upset about it, I might just make her fold it :)
Keep on keeping on...
S-
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