Wednesday, June 29, 2011


In the house where I grew up, 
Monday held two guarantees...
it was laundry day
(deposit yours in the laundry pile on your way off to school)
and a pot of red beans and rice...
a meal, once its ingredients are in the pot can be ignored except for the occasional  stir... while laundry is done.
A hold over from my mom's southern upbringing.

Monday remains "laundry day" to me.
Sadly, the red beans and rice are for the most part a thing of my past.
The man says his ex used to make a pot that lasted a week and they still had to give left-overs to the dog.
He's got heavy duty red beans and rice burn out.
I understand after living on mac and cheese for my college years.
I tell him... that's  because he's never had MY red beans and rice.
He is diplomatic and has graciously agreed to try them...
next winter when its cold.

So I got up on Monday and began to do the laundry in the hamper.
Most of the clothes are his.
I do not fit the stereotype of a woman who can't have enough clothing or shopping.
I don't enjoy shopping because I hate to spend money.
Shopping takes me twice as long as it should...
the initial picking out of things...
followed by the retracing of my path to put things back...
that I don't REALLY need.
Truth is, I cannot shop without guilt.

But I am off subject... again.
The man gets up and I'm already a load into the laundry process.
He says to me...
"Do I have a clean shirt?"
I resist the urge to strangle him with one.
You see in the pic above what was in our closet at the moment he said this silly thing!
The bar on top, with it's meager pickings... is mine.
The bar below filled with a variety of long sleeves and short sleeve tees
are his.
19 clean choices...
in that closet alone.

There are another 14 short sleeve clean shirts in this other closet
(plus a variety of coats and flannels).
I do not need a second closet!
I can't even fill my area of the other closet.
I called him a smart ass.
He says... you'd rather I was a dumb ass?

That's okay.
He helped fold and hang the laundry as it came out of the dryer.

I think we have made it to normal married life.
Well, shoot... we lived together for almost a year before we tied the knot.
Its time to move into that comfort zone
where we can mildly annoy each other and still enjoy each others 
Its a good place.
Besides, it gives me grist for the blog mill.


  1. I do laundry every other day. I wish I could transition to once a week.

    I make a mean red beans and rice. It brings everyone to the table for seconds and sometimes thirds. It cooks a long time with a piece of beef in it and then I shred the beef and fry it up in a pan as a side dish.

    If that was an argument, then I would say the honeymoon phase is still in place. That doesn't even qualify as a spat at our house.

    BTW I'm envious of your closet. It's so neat. Mine is an utter mess.

  2. Cube- I actually do laundry on Fridays too. But I don't have any more cubelettes at home.

    I would love to have at least one bowl! Sounds wonderful to me. I've never tried fried beef on the side... mmmmmmm. Now I will. Mom always used a spicy Cajun sausage in hers. I sort of improvise with what's on sale. But beef sounds great! I bet the man would like that too. Any special cut?

    Actually, we have never had one single argument.
    He's too darned agreeable, though a terrible tease. I think the only thing he does that really drives me nuts... tickling. I detest being tickled.

    Blame the tidy closet on the man. He is super plus organized and it's soooo easy to keep things neat the way he does it. All I have to do is put things where they go.

  3. I don't mind the extra laundry duty because I want to keep my cubelettes at home for as long as possible.

    As far as the cut of meat, I use the cheapest cut, chuck or arm roast, because it will cook a long time and it will fall apart at the end.

    Technically this dish, "Vaca Frita" which literally translates to "fried cow", is mostly done with flank steak, but have you checked the price on flank steak recently? I just put a cheaper cut of meat in with my pot of red beans and get the same result for a lot less.

    Not one argument? See, you are still in the honeymoon phase. Make it last as long as possible. Mr. Cube is big on needling and our house is loudest when he's in a good mood. He gets quiet when he's mad.

    Nobody in our house is organized. That's our biggest problem. Everyone just leaves stuff wherever. It's maddening when they expect me to put it all away. That's when I stage a revolt

  4. I do laundry when it's full. I never used to do whites separately, but M did and now I do it. So, I do laundry when I run out of white exercise socks too.

    Seriously, shopping in a thrift store is great. It's limited selection so easier to choose, it costs much less, and you benefit some needy charity. I shop in regular stores for bras and underwear and socks. That's pretty much all.

  5. Cube- No one was very organized when I lived with my kids in DPH either. Once I got so mad that I gave everyone one spoon, one cup, one fork, one knife and one plate. You could only use the ones with your name on it... and it was up to them to keep them clean, or eat on them dirty. I'd had it with the arguments over who should do the dishes and the over use of dishes. I've had my revolts! So I hear you on that one.
    The man is entirely responsible for how well organized we are. My mother was that way too. I don't know how that gene skipped me, but it did.
    As for arguments... when we first got together, he told me the thing that ruined his first marriage was his ex's propensity to blow up over things. We agreed to say something to each other if an issue came up and to quietly listen to what was bothering us, then to look for a solution. This was very hard for me to get used to doing! I normally tend to just keep quiet and write about my feelings to investigate them. I do not like conflict. However, the man can tell if something bugs me and will ask me, which opens up the floor for me. And he is very good at saying things in a calm and non-blame sort of way, if something bothers him. Like his other systems, it works remarkably well. I am learning how to communicate my feelings better. It sure beats the heck out of the fire storms I used to have with my ex, so I truly appreciate it.
    MMmmmm... yep, I'm going to try your Vaca Frita!

  6. NoRegrets- I have to hand it to my MIL for teaching the man how to do laundry correctly. Like you, I was sort of "meh" about separating clothing for the wash. Once in a blue moon I would do a hot water bleach wash of my sons tees, unders and socks. Now I do a whites only wash.
    (LOL how politically incorrect!)
    I love to shop in thrift stores! Its the only real form of guilt free shopping for me other than food shopping. Besides that, I'm not wearing the same things that everyone else is wearing. I'm a comfort dresser. I look for things that will last for my buck and that I don't have to fight. I totally agree on the new unders though!

  7. I can't imagine having one laundry day. With the kids, I do laundry nearly everyday.

  8. (Word verification for my comment was sperm!)

  9. secret agent woman- First off... LOL over your word verification word!

    I know, when I had my kids at home, it was everyday for me too. Its weird now to have to look to find enough to wash if I need a particular blouse or whatever. But it happens.

  10. Good to be in a good place and I am glad you are there. Mrs. Shife and I have never shared a closet, and we have lived together for about 11 years. Well with a new baby on the way and living in a 3-bedroom house it was time for us to finally share a closet. It has been a difficult transition because we both own way too many clothes but it also has been good because we got rid of a lot of clothes we don't wear and donated to charity. I hope you enjoy the holiday with the family. Take care.

  11. I'm at home so I can finally comment! Whew. It sounds like you and the man have some wonderful systems in place. I could definitely learn a lesson or two or several from you. It is VERY hard for me to speak up when something bothers me, but I stew about it. Not good.