My dryer decided to go on strike last Friday. I reported immediately to my fix-it guy who was glued to the British Open, “Hon, I think the dryer is broken!” I explain the problem in detail and he agrees to take a look at it. I formulate “Plan B”, and proceed to take the wet clothes outside to the deck to employ the old-fashioned resource of the sun. I drape wet clothes in a semi-organized fashion on my wrought-iron table and chairs and surprise myself just how much laundry fits onto that set.
Out of space, I eye the Adirondack chairs which seem perfect for delicate items. With a half-dozen towels to go, I decide on the deck railing and figure they’ll dry nicely draped there. Bugs, schmugs…this is nature! My laundry dries in record time and I repeat the process as necessary. With weather like this, who needs a dryer? Not to mention the “Green” factor.
Hubby has no difficulty whittling the possibilities of what’s wrong with our dryer to a few fixes and decides we probably need to call for service. I agree and relay to my youngest daughter the broken dryer situation and instruct her in my new clothes-drying method. Did I mention we are restricted from having clothes lines in our neighborhood which FORCES us to hang wet laundry on our lawn furniture? I reason drying clothes on lawn furniture looks shabbier than the clothes line, but do not have the energy to fight “City Hall” on this one. Lawn furniture and deck railing, it is!
In the meantime, I haven’t yet called the service guy to fix the dryer. For one thing, I am working all day, but more importantly – at least for now – the new method is working. Sure, I’ll probably tire of it soon, or it will actually rain, but until then….thank God we have lawn furniture!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Once Upon a Mattress Delivery
I can’t remember how many mattresses my husband and I have purchased together during the course of our marriage, but if I had to venture a guess, I would say five or six total. It is the most recent mattress purchase – our mattress – which has become the most popular tale, and it the story is definitely not what you might be thinking.
Voluntarily, to my complete joy, my husband assumed the role of professional procurement person (heretofore referred to as “PPP”) throughout the years. Research IS his bag. Whether one’s need is for an iron or a ‘fridge, give him a day or two and he can instruct you in the construction, functionality and history of the finest model for your hard-earned money; as well as all other models. Approximately eight years ago, we had a need for a new king-size mattress for the master boudoir. Without delay, my PPP proceeded with confident enthusiasm to find yet another “deal.” This was an important acquisition on many fronts – health, sleep, and general quality of life. Yes, quality sleep is essential!
My PPP kept me apprised of the procurement of said mattress on a “need-to-know” basis. That meant I would nod “uh-huh” every time he spoke down to the teeniest detail and sometimes my eyes would even begin to glaze over. One happy day I was informed we had made a purchase! The new tempur-pedic mattress (or one almost equal to the same) was on its way to us, and it was being shipped via UPS. Really? They can do that?
My joy was momentarily curbed by the reminder that my PPP usually had most of his UPS shipments sent to my place of employment, which is a church. (We’re not even going to visit the details between those two parallels.) “Tell me you didn’t have that mattress shipped to the church?” I questioned with a whine. “No, he replied. Do you think I’m crazy? It’s being delivered to the house.” After a very long pause, I breathed a sigh of relief. Still, the thought continued to loom in my mind regarding the possibility of my new mattress being delivered to my place of employment. I decided to think/worry about that tomorrow.
Fast forward about two weeks. Picture me busily working at the church computer and there’s a knock on the office door. It’s UPS – and the delivery person is a woman. What are the odds? I open the door and almost beg her, “Tell me that you do NOT have a mattress for delivery.” She smiles, “Oh, yeah...yup...that’s exactly what I have.” She adds, “I think together we can handle it.” I wonder, “Is she kidding me??” and I have thoughts about my PPP that I should not share.
Presently, as well as at that time, I drive an SUV. If we put the passenger seats down, we have luckily fit a brand-new refrigerator in the back of the vehicle. I prayed my luck would be the same with the mattress, which was very fortunately rolled like a great big jellyroll. Delivery gal takes one end and I grab the other and it fits into my SUV like butter. Relieved, I call hubby, formerly known as my PPP, and sternly relay the story. Honestly, I couldn't even pretend to be angry, my gratitude showed too much. It was just another story to tell.
Still in use, the mattress has proven to be wonderful, restful, and great. This evening, I received a phone call from my oldest daughter who was recently married. She is now eagerly anticipating her very own real tempur-pedic mattress delivery tomorrow. “I have a favor to ask.” She says, “The delivery truck can’t make it up our street because it’s so narrow, so we were thinking we could meet the truck at the church (a/k/a my place of employment) and make the pick-up in the parking lot.” “Sure.” I reply “Thanks for letting me know.”
I wipe away an imaginary baby-sized tear of emotion. Family mattress delivery to my place of employment has become a tradition. Such is life!
Voluntarily, to my complete joy, my husband assumed the role of professional procurement person (heretofore referred to as “PPP”) throughout the years. Research IS his bag. Whether one’s need is for an iron or a ‘fridge, give him a day or two and he can instruct you in the construction, functionality and history of the finest model for your hard-earned money; as well as all other models. Approximately eight years ago, we had a need for a new king-size mattress for the master boudoir. Without delay, my PPP proceeded with confident enthusiasm to find yet another “deal.” This was an important acquisition on many fronts – health, sleep, and general quality of life. Yes, quality sleep is essential!
My PPP kept me apprised of the procurement of said mattress on a “need-to-know” basis. That meant I would nod “uh-huh” every time he spoke down to the teeniest detail and sometimes my eyes would even begin to glaze over. One happy day I was informed we had made a purchase! The new tempur-pedic mattress (or one almost equal to the same) was on its way to us, and it was being shipped via UPS. Really? They can do that?
My joy was momentarily curbed by the reminder that my PPP usually had most of his UPS shipments sent to my place of employment, which is a church. (We’re not even going to visit the details between those two parallels.) “Tell me you didn’t have that mattress shipped to the church?” I questioned with a whine. “No, he replied. Do you think I’m crazy? It’s being delivered to the house.” After a very long pause, I breathed a sigh of relief. Still, the thought continued to loom in my mind regarding the possibility of my new mattress being delivered to my place of employment. I decided to think/worry about that tomorrow.
Fast forward about two weeks. Picture me busily working at the church computer and there’s a knock on the office door. It’s UPS – and the delivery person is a woman. What are the odds? I open the door and almost beg her, “Tell me that you do NOT have a mattress for delivery.” She smiles, “Oh, yeah...yup...that’s exactly what I have.” She adds, “I think together we can handle it.” I wonder, “Is she kidding me??” and I have thoughts about my PPP that I should not share.
Presently, as well as at that time, I drive an SUV. If we put the passenger seats down, we have luckily fit a brand-new refrigerator in the back of the vehicle. I prayed my luck would be the same with the mattress, which was very fortunately rolled like a great big jellyroll. Delivery gal takes one end and I grab the other and it fits into my SUV like butter. Relieved, I call hubby, formerly known as my PPP, and sternly relay the story. Honestly, I couldn't even pretend to be angry, my gratitude showed too much. It was just another story to tell.
Still in use, the mattress has proven to be wonderful, restful, and great. This evening, I received a phone call from my oldest daughter who was recently married. She is now eagerly anticipating her very own real tempur-pedic mattress delivery tomorrow. “I have a favor to ask.” She says, “The delivery truck can’t make it up our street because it’s so narrow, so we were thinking we could meet the truck at the church (a/k/a my place of employment) and make the pick-up in the parking lot.” “Sure.” I reply “Thanks for letting me know.”
I wipe away an imaginary baby-sized tear of emotion. Family mattress delivery to my place of employment has become a tradition. Such is life!
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