Pete and I had a long chat today, mostly about gift lists. I think they're the height of bad manners and will do pretty much ... a lot of stuff ... not to have one. I don't want my wedding to have an "entrance fee". That is kinda how I see it.
Pete can see my point, but not as strongly as I see it. He can also see Brenda's point -- she's (by the sound of it) driving the "you need a gift list" van pretty heavily. I'm going to talk about that with her.
But, I'm nervous.
This is the first time, I think, we've had a major difference of opinion.
Partly it's cultural, perhaps. Maybe there's also an element of "tradition for tradition's sake" (which, in general, I am not a fan of). In my case, it's the way I was brought up, so there's definitely an element of wanting to please my Dad and my late Grandmother about it, coupled with, having considered the matter from an admittedly biased perspective, I have found no reason to change my view, but only to strengthen it.
I especially hate the idea of sending the gift list with the invitation. And yet, isn't it putting more stress and hassle on guests to have them look it up somewhere? Isn't it better just not to have one? To ask for recipes and photos and such instead, that don't have a financial cost?
We'll see, I guess.
Showing posts with label culture clash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture clash. Show all posts
Thursday, 4 September 2014
Friday, 15 August 2014
Wedding Outfits (Mothers)
When I spoke to Brenda last week, we also got to talking about wedding outfits. Not for the bridal party, which we are planning separately, but for the family. Grab a cuppa whilst we flick through the catalogue together.
Brenda mentioned a tradition she encountered when attending a wedding of her close family friends: the mother of the bride wears blue, and the mother of the groom wears pink, and asked if there was anything like that in England that she should be aware of when she came to get her own outfit. I'd never heard of the above tradition -- that wedding had a bride from "the South" (of the USA). It's kind of its own country, in the way that "the North" of England is kind of its own country too. But no, there's nothing like that here.
My Mum has already bought her outfit - the full outfit. Shoes, bag, fascinator, the lot. This is because, before we had a wedding date, we had thought that maybe, once we got a date, we would move really quickly -- 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 12 weeks maximum, kind of timing. So we were laying the plans in rough draft so they were all ready to go-go-go when the time came.
So Mum has bought her outfit, and it looks lovely. I haven't seen it on yet, but it looks good on the hanger. I hope she won't mind me telling you, it's cream with black accenting. She didn't have the fascinator yet when Brenda and I spoke.
Brenda was asking me about the dress code. Obviously it's a wedding, so "fancy" is appropriate. She asked about hats and fascinators. Mum really does not have a hat face, which is why I thought she'd get a fascinator. She'd been trying different ones on in a few different places, but I think Brenda will get a hat. Maybe a big hat. I didn't tell her this, but I think a blue will look great on Brenda. I hope she finds something great!
(Sidebar: family friends of my own once had to fly to Italy for their daughter's wedding, and she -- Mother -- had a massive hat that needed its own seat. The Italian airport on the way back was actually considerably less perplexed by the idea of paying for an extra seat for the hat, than the British airport were for the journey out there.)
Oh, and Mum bought her fascinator the day after this conversation; she walked past a stall in the shopping centre that she'd never seen before and they had the EXACT fascinator she wants, right there. The EXACT same shade of cream as the shoes (that are just a smidgeon lighter than the dress), it was cream edged in black and not black edged in cream, like she needed, and was of the clippy variety, seeing as Mum had tried various headband styles and found they hurt her ears.
Things like that happen to Mum a lot. She grabbed a scarf and paid for it quickly in a shop in Amsterdam when they were on a river cruise and her coat let in a draught. They only had a few minutes before the boat left again, and she couldn't have picked a colour closer to the colour of her coat if she'd spent three months looking. When she and my stepdad were getting married, the first cake shop they went into had the exact cake that she wanted as one of the displays. They tried to offer to change the shape of the cake, the number of tiers, the shape or colour of the protruding decorations, and it took five times to tell them that she wanted a copy of that cake, exactly as it was.
We finally also set a date for the four-way calling, so I wonder if Mum will show Brenda her outfit then?
Brenda mentioned a tradition she encountered when attending a wedding of her close family friends: the mother of the bride wears blue, and the mother of the groom wears pink, and asked if there was anything like that in England that she should be aware of when she came to get her own outfit. I'd never heard of the above tradition -- that wedding had a bride from "the South" (of the USA). It's kind of its own country, in the way that "the North" of England is kind of its own country too. But no, there's nothing like that here.
My Mum has already bought her outfit - the full outfit. Shoes, bag, fascinator, the lot. This is because, before we had a wedding date, we had thought that maybe, once we got a date, we would move really quickly -- 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 12 weeks maximum, kind of timing. So we were laying the plans in rough draft so they were all ready to go-go-go when the time came.
So Mum has bought her outfit, and it looks lovely. I haven't seen it on yet, but it looks good on the hanger. I hope she won't mind me telling you, it's cream with black accenting. She didn't have the fascinator yet when Brenda and I spoke.
Brenda was asking me about the dress code. Obviously it's a wedding, so "fancy" is appropriate. She asked about hats and fascinators. Mum really does not have a hat face, which is why I thought she'd get a fascinator. She'd been trying different ones on in a few different places, but I think Brenda will get a hat. Maybe a big hat. I didn't tell her this, but I think a blue will look great on Brenda. I hope she finds something great!
(Sidebar: family friends of my own once had to fly to Italy for their daughter's wedding, and she -- Mother -- had a massive hat that needed its own seat. The Italian airport on the way back was actually considerably less perplexed by the idea of paying for an extra seat for the hat, than the British airport were for the journey out there.)
Oh, and Mum bought her fascinator the day after this conversation; she walked past a stall in the shopping centre that she'd never seen before and they had the EXACT fascinator she wants, right there. The EXACT same shade of cream as the shoes (that are just a smidgeon lighter than the dress), it was cream edged in black and not black edged in cream, like she needed, and was of the clippy variety, seeing as Mum had tried various headband styles and found they hurt her ears.
Things like that happen to Mum a lot. She grabbed a scarf and paid for it quickly in a shop in Amsterdam when they were on a river cruise and her coat let in a draught. They only had a few minutes before the boat left again, and she couldn't have picked a colour closer to the colour of her coat if she'd spent three months looking. When she and my stepdad were getting married, the first cake shop they went into had the exact cake that she wanted as one of the displays. They tried to offer to change the shape of the cake, the number of tiers, the shape or colour of the protruding decorations, and it took five times to tell them that she wanted a copy of that cake, exactly as it was.
We finally also set a date for the four-way calling, so I wonder if Mum will show Brenda her outfit then?
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Soft place to land
I got to talking with one of the bridesmaids recently, about something that came up during Pete's and my pre-marital counseling; one of the questions we were asked was, "What do you consider the husband's role in a marriage relationship? What do you consider the wife's role?" Do you want to get some tea whilst we explore that?
There are people who would say something like, "There aren't really any differences, it works exactly the same way as it does in a gay relationship, it's just that one happens to be a man and the other happens to be a woman."
Yet, if a person believes that men and women are even a little bit different on the inside, then the above can't hold true. That's not to say anything against gay relationships, just that they are at least a little bit different from straight ones, because the people are different.
When I expressed that I thought the wife's role is to provide "a soft place to land" for her husband, it was met with some confusion. What I mean by that is things like, when he's been out at work, when he's tired, busy and stressed, a wife should be someone who will run her husband a bath and rub his feet, not berate him for all the things he hasn't done or try to tear him in two directions by wanting other things from him when he's already trying his best. She's a warm, inviting smile that makes him happy to come home at the end of the day, and not want to head off down the pub.
Now, I run with the feminist crowd, and I would like to point out that yes, women have brains in their heads and deserve to be treated with respect and equality, without risk of sexual assault and should be able to be in control of their own lives, bodies and families with reference only to relevant people such as her immediate family and medical practitioner, not her employer or some dudebro who thinks she should do what he says.
I would also like to point out that no, men are not "entitled" to have baths run for them and so forth, and that yes, I can see how doing that sort of thing regularly might make him feel more entitled in the outside world, but that isn't really the point. The point is kindness.
In this culture, at least, we have the choice to get married or not, and we do so of our own free will. But in making that choice, the biggest choice we'll ever make in our lives, why wouldn't we want to make the little sacrifices that mean we don't end up regretting that choice? More to the point, why wouldn't we want to be kind to the person we love most in the world?
Kindness is a two-way street, of course, but I am not responsible for the way my neighbour behaves, even if that neighbour is my husband; I am only responsible for me. I can only change me. And I'm answerable to a higher authority than the feminist crowd. I'm answerable to Christ.
When I expressed that I thought the wife's role is to provide "a soft place to land" for her husband, it was met with some confusion. What I mean by that is things like, when he's been out at work, when he's tired, busy and stressed, a wife should be someone who will run her husband a bath and rub his feet, not berate him for all the things he hasn't done or try to tear him in two directions by wanting other things from him when he's already trying his best. She's a warm, inviting smile that makes him happy to come home at the end of the day, and not want to head off down the pub.
Now, I run with the feminist crowd, and I would like to point out that yes, women have brains in their heads and deserve to be treated with respect and equality, without risk of sexual assault and should be able to be in control of their own lives, bodies and families with reference only to relevant people such as her immediate family and medical practitioner, not her employer or some dudebro who thinks she should do what he says.
I would also like to point out that no, men are not "entitled" to have baths run for them and so forth, and that yes, I can see how doing that sort of thing regularly might make him feel more entitled in the outside world, but that isn't really the point. The point is kindness.
In this culture, at least, we have the choice to get married or not, and we do so of our own free will. But in making that choice, the biggest choice we'll ever make in our lives, why wouldn't we want to make the little sacrifices that mean we don't end up regretting that choice? More to the point, why wouldn't we want to be kind to the person we love most in the world?
Kindness is a two-way street, of course, but I am not responsible for the way my neighbour behaves, even if that neighbour is my husband; I am only responsible for me. I can only change me. And I'm answerable to a higher authority than the feminist crowd. I'm answerable to Christ.
Sunday, 10 August 2014
Spirit Sundays -- Community
Today's my birthday, and it hadn't been marked that well. Well, looking back on it, there are people who've gone out of their way for me; Pete stayed up late to talk to me when it was midnight his end, morning my end. My sister came back for the weekend even if she was out last night, my stepdad has cooked pancakes for our breakfast and a roast chicken dinner for our lunch, and my oldest friend had me round to her house yesterday for pizza, wine and a good ole catch-up. And yet, as of this morning in church, it all felt very low key. Not one single person from church remembered, even though most of them have me on Facebook. Only a few people on Facebook messaged me too, most of whom were family relatives or who had also sent me cards (and one whom I haven't spoken to for four years).
And I cried at church. Big, fat, unstoppable tears of self-pity rolling down my face! Tears that were completely deserved. I hadn't/haven't been keeping up with other people's birthdays, I haven't been sending them cards and presents and Facebook messages, for the most part, and that hurts when it comes back around again, but I know full well I can't actually complain about it.
When I told my friend from church the harvest I was reaping, she just reminded me that God can fix everything, and that no-one is perfect -- it's very easy just to get wrapped up in ourselves. So she gave me her baby to cuddle and promised to pray for me, which is everything I could ask for, really.
Then, when I got in, the person that things we the most not-ok with had dropped a card through my letterbox, so that prayer has been answered and maybe, just maybe, things are on the way to improving? I was doing the happy-dance because of this!
Then, like I said, we had a nice lunch with the family, we played games (and I beat everyone at Cluedo! Yay me!), and I have seen loved ones Friday, twice on Saturday -- different people -- and mostly all day today. So I think God is giving me a community back, slowly, and I'm going to do my part too. Happy Birthday, Sarah.
And I cried at church. Big, fat, unstoppable tears of self-pity rolling down my face! Tears that were completely deserved. I hadn't/haven't been keeping up with other people's birthdays, I haven't been sending them cards and presents and Facebook messages, for the most part, and that hurts when it comes back around again, but I know full well I can't actually complain about it.
When I told my friend from church the harvest I was reaping, she just reminded me that God can fix everything, and that no-one is perfect -- it's very easy just to get wrapped up in ourselves. So she gave me her baby to cuddle and promised to pray for me, which is everything I could ask for, really.
Then, when I got in, the person that things we the most not-ok with had dropped a card through my letterbox, so that prayer has been answered and maybe, just maybe, things are on the way to improving? I was doing the happy-dance because of this!
Then, like I said, we had a nice lunch with the family, we played games (and I beat everyone at Cluedo! Yay me!), and I have seen loved ones Friday, twice on Saturday -- different people -- and mostly all day today. So I think God is giving me a community back, slowly, and I'm going to do my part too. Happy Birthday, Sarah.
Thursday, 7 August 2014
Wedding Planning Wednesday -- Gathering my Supplies
Sorry for the delay, my internet crashed just as I was about to post. Good job I saved it!
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A fortnight ago, I didn't really have any papers for wedding planning. A few items (mostly flyers and business cards) were in a box. My Mum had quite a lot of papers too. We had a good ole session making an actual plan about ten days ago. The numbers of papers I have seems to have multiplied.
I wrote a to-do list (I did about 75% of it and then lost the list -- better than my usual batting average!). I have a piece of paper I've drawn a rough draft of the invites on. I have prices for some things now, and not just in my head. I relocated the "bride's book of lists" we bought when we were first engaged, in the USA, so now I have that with me (and it's actually useful! Tell that to 10-months-ago-me who was crossing things out in it left right and centre). The samples for the bridesmaids dresses have also arrived; all of my stuff is in a big gift bag that came with a present someone from church gave me in preparation for the wedding.
Since then I also have more lists. Lists, lists, lists! I have to confess, it's great not having everything in my head. I didn't even realise that until I'd written it down.
I'm getting together with almost all of the bridesmaids, individually, this weekend. (Ironically, the noticeable absence from that list is the one I live with, who is currently away camping.) The one who loves notebooks is going to try to sell me on notebooks to put all of my wedding papers in. I am open to convincing, but I still haven't ruled out a more binder-like structure. Stay tuned.
Sunday, 3 August 2014
Spirit Sundays -- The 'Not Going to Church' Version
I haven't been to church this morning. Partly for reasons, partly not.
Only 6% of adults in the UK go to church more often than not, but those 6% do wonder what the rest of the adults get up to on the Sunday mornings that we're filling the pews. More time running errands or finishing the D.I.Y.? That's a sad state of affairs for the country.
Visiting family (as my Sundays always were before I became a believer)? Well, I still spend many of my Sunday afternoons doing that, too. Sleeping or reading a book - yes, Sunday afternoons for those too.
Sports? There's some of that, but it's probably not as prevalent as it is in the USA. Working? Staffing all those shops and D.I.Y. shops for the people in the first paragraph, and (the one that bites) waiting tables for the after-church crowds? Not forgetting of course the many necessary workers in hospitals and police stations, even power stations I suppose. In this case, it's up to the church to do church things at other times.
Churches, at least in most them, in this country, tend to be rather like pubs, and people will travel further afield to find the one that they like rather than going to the most local one even though, on the surface, it's the same thing.
Perhaps that contributes to the feeling that Sunday sometimes feels as crowded as all the others. I love church, but today, watching cookery shows over brunch feels like a welcome fresh breeze. I'm going to use the day to do the things I don't have time for on regular days, like watching videos on the internet rather than reading blogs. Pause. Is this what you're doing to?
Only 6% of adults in the UK go to church more often than not, but those 6% do wonder what the rest of the adults get up to on the Sunday mornings that we're filling the pews. More time running errands or finishing the D.I.Y.? That's a sad state of affairs for the country.
Visiting family (as my Sundays always were before I became a believer)? Well, I still spend many of my Sunday afternoons doing that, too. Sleeping or reading a book - yes, Sunday afternoons for those too.
Sports? There's some of that, but it's probably not as prevalent as it is in the USA. Working? Staffing all those shops and D.I.Y. shops for the people in the first paragraph, and (the one that bites) waiting tables for the after-church crowds? Not forgetting of course the many necessary workers in hospitals and police stations, even power stations I suppose. In this case, it's up to the church to do church things at other times.
Churches, at least in most them, in this country, tend to be rather like pubs, and people will travel further afield to find the one that they like rather than going to the most local one even though, on the surface, it's the same thing.
Perhaps that contributes to the feeling that Sunday sometimes feels as crowded as all the others. I love church, but today, watching cookery shows over brunch feels like a welcome fresh breeze. I'm going to use the day to do the things I don't have time for on regular days, like watching videos on the internet rather than reading blogs. Pause. Is this what you're doing to?
Saturday, 2 August 2014
Integrating with the Natives
I just asked for a band-aid. Rather than a plaster, which is what we call them over here. (Don't worry, my thumb is fine. I just knocked the scab off whilst washing up.)
I have been known to say things like "Shall I put this in the trunk [boot]?" or "Can I borrow ten bucks? I mean, ten pounds?", and I have been mocked for saying "Stick it in the trash can" rather than "Put it in the bin."
That being said, I don't think I'll ever say "Math." ;-)
I have been known to say things like "Shall I put this in the trunk [boot]?" or "Can I borrow ten bucks? I mean, ten pounds?", and I have been mocked for saying "Stick it in the trash can" rather than "Put it in the bin."
That being said, I don't think I'll ever say "Math." ;-)
Saturday, 26 July 2014
Spontaneous Saturdays -- Beach!
This Saturday, we're taking an impromptu (planned the night before) trip to the beach. The Dad's away fishing, so it's the Mum, me and the kids.
I wish Pete was coming with us (but then I always wish Pete was with me, especially during the good bits).
I love going to the beach! Some of my happiest childhood memories. I still get as excited as a four-year-old with the "I can see the sea!!" business.
Pete... doesn't. I drove him crazy with that when we took the coast-road on our road trip. His happiest memories are something else. If the beach is the 'venue' for an 'actual activity', he's fine with it, but being at the beach and having that be the entertainment isn't that impressive to him. Church on the beach? Cool! Oyster-picking with his mates? Cool! Fishing on the beach? (He doesn't fish, but... ) cool! Sunbathing, swimming, rock-climing, building sand castles, looking in rock pools... not really his thing.
We did have a nice beach day (in my opinion) before we went though. That is, untilwe I went swimming wading in the Pacific Ocean though. The currents there are MUCH stronger than they are on my island nation, the tide knocked me off my feet! I wonder if I'd be able to get swimming lessons out there to handle the current?
I wish Pete was coming with us (but then I always wish Pete was with me, especially during the good bits).
I love going to the beach! Some of my happiest childhood memories. I still get as excited as a four-year-old with the "I can see the sea!!" business.
Pete... doesn't. I drove him crazy with that when we took the coast-road on our road trip. His happiest memories are something else. If the beach is the 'venue' for an 'actual activity', he's fine with it, but being at the beach and having that be the entertainment isn't that impressive to him. Church on the beach? Cool! Oyster-picking with his mates? Cool! Fishing on the beach? (He doesn't fish, but... ) cool! Sunbathing, swimming, rock-climing, building sand castles, looking in rock pools... not really his thing.
We did have a nice beach day (in my opinion) before we went though. That is, until
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
Put a fresh pot on, whilst I tell you about Brenda. I love Brenda. She has the biggest heart.
Put a fresh pot on, whilst I tell you about Brenda. I love Brenda. She has the biggest heart.
Brenda has been so kind to me, so welcoming. She's really patient, she's a great listener, she's become my go-to person to listen to all of my own family dramas. (And where there's a wedding, there's family dramas!)
The inviting us to continue living with her isn't just because of money. We could move somewhere else. My cousin in Canada advocates for that country as a possible base (and if it had the climate of Australia, we'd consider it). There are other places. There are other places in the SF area. We could move to Pete's old college town. He could come and live with me on my side of the pond. We have options.
Brenda -- and all of Pete's family -- have taken me in with open arms from the beginning, she genuinely loves me.
It might be true that part of the reason is also because she's worried about being lonely. I don't know if she's ever lived on her own. We all do most things from mixed motives, but she says she'll be fine so I'll believe her.
I didn't realise this until Pete pointed it out, but the main factor in the decision, though, genuinely was altruism. She knows that I won't know anyone when I move over, and Pete will be at work all day. It'll be very easy in those circumstances to sit around and kind of get a bit of a pointless existence apart from waiting for Pete to get home, and then maybe be sullen, withdrawn, or - God forbid - manipulative, when I finally do see him. That won't be good for our marriage at all! Plus I'll likely be homesick...
Brenda saw all of that (or something of it) before I did. It's completely true. I can barely make it through a weekend of house-sitting without getting stir-crazy for having no-one to talk to, and not really eating properly. And yeah, there may be times where Pete and I have to be apart overnight sometimes. I hate that fact, I'd love to be the couple that gets to their golden wedding anniversary and had never spent a night apart, but I don't know from here how feasible or realistic that idea even is. Maybe the only people who ever did it were from a different age and it's just not possible any more. We'll see.
But living with Brenda will be great. I'll have someone to talk to, I'll have someone to wash dishes for during the day (yes, I need someone to wash them for, usually, in order to wash them), I can get permission then and there if I want to move a piece of furniture around, whatever.
At the same time, she will be there, but she won't be intrusive. Pete sometimes goes three days without seeing her (he's out to work before Brenda gets up, and two nights in a row he goes to social activities straight from work).
I love Brenda. Just thought the blog needed a bit of balance so that the (genuine) difficulties I/we experience or anticipate from our proposed living situation don't come across as cruel or mean towards Brenda. I love Brenda. She's the best (apart from Pete!).
Brenda has been so kind to me, so welcoming. She's really patient, she's a great listener, she's become my go-to person to listen to all of my own family dramas. (And where there's a wedding, there's family dramas!)
The inviting us to continue living with her isn't just because of money. We could move somewhere else. My cousin in Canada advocates for that country as a possible base (and if it had the climate of Australia, we'd consider it). There are other places. There are other places in the SF area. We could move to Pete's old college town. He could come and live with me on my side of the pond. We have options.
Brenda -- and all of Pete's family -- have taken me in with open arms from the beginning, she genuinely loves me.
It might be true that part of the reason is also because she's worried about being lonely. I don't know if she's ever lived on her own. We all do most things from mixed motives, but she says she'll be fine so I'll believe her.
I didn't realise this until Pete pointed it out, but the main factor in the decision, though, genuinely was altruism. She knows that I won't know anyone when I move over, and Pete will be at work all day. It'll be very easy in those circumstances to sit around and kind of get a bit of a pointless existence apart from waiting for Pete to get home, and then maybe be sullen, withdrawn, or - God forbid - manipulative, when I finally do see him. That won't be good for our marriage at all! Plus I'll likely be homesick...
Brenda saw all of that (or something of it) before I did. It's completely true. I can barely make it through a weekend of house-sitting without getting stir-crazy for having no-one to talk to, and not really eating properly. And yeah, there may be times where Pete and I have to be apart overnight sometimes. I hate that fact, I'd love to be the couple that gets to their golden wedding anniversary and had never spent a night apart, but I don't know from here how feasible or realistic that idea even is. Maybe the only people who ever did it were from a different age and it's just not possible any more. We'll see.
But living with Brenda will be great. I'll have someone to talk to, I'll have someone to wash dishes for during the day (yes, I need someone to wash them for, usually, in order to wash them), I can get permission then and there if I want to move a piece of furniture around, whatever.
At the same time, she will be there, but she won't be intrusive. Pete sometimes goes three days without seeing her (he's out to work before Brenda gets up, and two nights in a row he goes to social activities straight from work).
I love Brenda. Just thought the blog needed a bit of balance so that the (genuine) difficulties I/we experience or anticipate from our proposed living situation don't come across as cruel or mean towards Brenda. I love Brenda. She's the best (apart from Pete!).
Monday, 21 July 2014
What time is it in San Francisco?
When I went to schedule my previous post, it only gave me the option of scheduling according to Pacific Daylight Time. Y'know, the time it is in California. Presumably because that's where the servers are. Remember I'm in the UK, currently on British Summer Time.
Fortunately because of Pete, Pacific Daylight Time is a system I speak fluently. After reading the information twice to be sure it was that simple, it was quite easy to say, "OK, it's posting 8 hours behind, as it were."
But there'll probably be times when I forget. Technology, eh? Wonderful when it works!
Fortunately because of Pete, Pacific Daylight Time is a system I speak fluently. After reading the information twice to be sure it was that simple, it was quite easy to say, "OK, it's posting 8 hours behind, as it were."
But there'll probably be times when I forget. Technology, eh? Wonderful when it works!
Airing My Dirty Laundry
When Pete did laundry at my house, when he came to visit me... I laughed at him. Honestly. (Sorry, my love.) Having always been taught to separate by colour, personally, it seemed funny to me to see someone sort their laundry by garment -- a load of t-shirts, a load of trousers, etc. I may even have asked, "Whoever taught you to sort your laundry like that?" (It was Brenda -- perhaps obviously. Ooops.)
Upon further reflection, I've seen the method in the madness, to a certain extent. All the t-shirts, for example, are likely to be just as dirty as all the other t-shirts, and so it makes sense to wash them all together, right? Personally, I can't fathom (grey) dress pants needing the same treatment as (blue) jeans, but apart from that, I can see it.
That is... never... going to work for me.
Because the thing is... I've come so close to becoming a slob. Or, to put it another way, I have been a slob, especially in my teenage years, and I have come a long way since then. But, I know that it only takes two broken routines to be back where I was before with the need to start over. I'm working on it still, but I can't say that doesn't still happen from time to time either, unfortunately.
So, when I find a routine that works, works for me, I have to stick to it. I have no other option. I have to do it the way that works.
Fortunately, I have a laundry system that works. Unfortunately, it's nothing like Pete's. And as laundry ones go, it's quite a complicated one -- because, at least for some things, the more complicated it is upfront, the more time is saved on the other end. The more decisions I can make now, the fewer I'll have to make later (always a good thing!).
My laundry system involves a lot of laundry baskets. When it's working really smoothly, I have about a dozen (yes, a dozen!) baskets lined up that dirty laundry gets tossed into when it becomes dirty; like, when clothes get taken off, towels get used and they've already been used a few times so they shouldn't really just go back on the radiator, that kind of thing. Are you ready?
There's the obvious first: whites, darks, whites-with-patterns-on (the ones I don't wash at a higher temperature), towels, bedding, kitchen linens (aprons, tea towels, dish cloths, etc). All of those are really loads by themselves. When it comes to colours though, I separate further. Which are the two colours most likely to run? Reds and Blues. They each get their own tub. Ideally I'd like to separate out the rest of the coloureds a bit more too, but they can all go together if needed. The same applies to blacks and darks.
Then I need more laundry baskets for moving from washer to drier, carrying back upstairs to put away, etc.
My system works, for me, but I do end up with a parade of laundry baskets in the laundry spot. I justify that this is better than piles of laundry on the floor.
I find having a routine I can depend on to be like a walking stick to help me get through these tasks. If I'm going to have one, I want it to be robust enough to support me.
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As the kids start their summer holidays and we begin making a plan to see us through them, I'm also giving Laundry Day a try, rather than the oft-lauded do-a-load-every-day-business. I'll keep you updated.
I'm trying a couple of new things here too: I'm going to try to schedule this post for tomorrow (wish me luck!), and this is also the first "Make-a-plan Monday." If it goes well, it'll be a regular feature around here.
Upon further reflection, I've seen the method in the madness, to a certain extent. All the t-shirts, for example, are likely to be just as dirty as all the other t-shirts, and so it makes sense to wash them all together, right? Personally, I can't fathom (grey) dress pants needing the same treatment as (blue) jeans, but apart from that, I can see it.
That is... never... going to work for me.
Because the thing is... I've come so close to becoming a slob. Or, to put it another way, I have been a slob, especially in my teenage years, and I have come a long way since then. But, I know that it only takes two broken routines to be back where I was before with the need to start over. I'm working on it still, but I can't say that doesn't still happen from time to time either, unfortunately.
So, when I find a routine that works, works for me, I have to stick to it. I have no other option. I have to do it the way that works.
Fortunately, I have a laundry system that works. Unfortunately, it's nothing like Pete's. And as laundry ones go, it's quite a complicated one -- because, at least for some things, the more complicated it is upfront, the more time is saved on the other end. The more decisions I can make now, the fewer I'll have to make later (always a good thing!).
My laundry system involves a lot of laundry baskets. When it's working really smoothly, I have about a dozen (yes, a dozen!) baskets lined up that dirty laundry gets tossed into when it becomes dirty; like, when clothes get taken off, towels get used and they've already been used a few times so they shouldn't really just go back on the radiator, that kind of thing. Are you ready?
There's the obvious first: whites, darks, whites-with-patterns-on (the ones I don't wash at a higher temperature), towels, bedding, kitchen linens (aprons, tea towels, dish cloths, etc). All of those are really loads by themselves. When it comes to colours though, I separate further. Which are the two colours most likely to run? Reds and Blues. They each get their own tub. Ideally I'd like to separate out the rest of the coloureds a bit more too, but they can all go together if needed. The same applies to blacks and darks.
Then I need more laundry baskets for moving from washer to drier, carrying back upstairs to put away, etc.
My system works, for me, but I do end up with a parade of laundry baskets in the laundry spot. I justify that this is better than piles of laundry on the floor.
I find having a routine I can depend on to be like a walking stick to help me get through these tasks. If I'm going to have one, I want it to be robust enough to support me.
---
As the kids start their summer holidays and we begin making a plan to see us through them, I'm also giving Laundry Day a try, rather than the oft-lauded do-a-load-every-day-business. I'll keep you updated.
I'm trying a couple of new things here too: I'm going to try to schedule this post for tomorrow (wish me luck!), and this is also the first "Make-a-plan Monday." If it goes well, it'll be a regular feature around here.
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