Archives for November 2011

Okay — Where Is the Soap?

November 30, 2011 by Leave a Comment

Is that soap?

OK, I’m writing this because I am in shock.  Knowing that you may be losing it is one thing, having it confirmed, without witness, is another.   Consider this.  I recently bought a bottle of Gain washing detergent, I love this smell.  Well, this weekend, I decided to get back in gear, because I had to get ready for work.  Soooo, I washed the first tub of clothes which is now still in the dryer.  I remember looking into the tub and being surprised that  the suds had not appeared, so my pea brain decided that the washer had not agitated enough and they would soon appear.

Wrooong!!!!!  Before the wash was completed, I looked again, saw no suds and put more detergent in the washing machine.  Thinking no more about it, the wash was finally completed and the clothes were put in dryer.   Well, this morning I did a tub of sweaters that I planned to wear this week for work.  Again, I noticed that after the washing had begun, there were no suds.  So this time I took a real careful look at the bottle of Gain, thinking about false advertisement or something.  NOT!!!!  How about this bottle of 129 fluid ounces was not Gain washing detergent, but GAIN FABRIC SOFTNER.  Does this mean I have been walking around in some instances in clothing  that may not be  so clean but sure was smelling good?

I’m on my way to the closest store for a bottle of Gain.  Wish me luck.

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All Sales Final

November 30, 2011 by 1 Comment

It’s was my favorite time at Hecht’s – Sales Time! You remember Hecht’s, don’t you? They had my favorite lingerie on sale, Vanity Fair and this time it looked as though I might be able to afford a few pairs of their undies.  So, armed with my Hecht’s credit card, my co-workers and I rushed the few blocks to the store, all the while management was in a staff meeting that promised to last at least an hour.  Government employment does have its advantages, or at least it did then.  This memory was prompted by a sudden flash-back of my running, and I mean running to the store to take advantage of a sale when the store opened.  For this particular sale I took a chance and left my duty station uncovered for what I hoped was to be for only a very short time.  My agency was located only a few blocks from the store and I got to the store in what I considered record time.

The negative thing about sales is that everyone seems to know about them.  I had plenty of company when the doors opened and we all seemed to be heading in the same direction, the basement.  Although Vanity Fair was displayed in a large bin with other brands, there did appear to be an ample quantity of all the brands on sale. It is so much fun when a lot of women are looking for the same thing. You have no arm room to sort through the garments, people are almost breathing down your back and when you finally see your size, someone else grabs it.  So you try another strategy and you go all the way to the bottom of the bin and start pulling up garments.  Finally, I see my size, grab a handful and find that I only have two garments that are actually my size.  Okay, I’ll take them, since once again I feel size discrimination is hovering over the store as I look for a certain size and only see garments that are for” little people with little buttocks.”  I pay for the two garments feeling that I accomplished something and rush back to my duty station.  I got back just in time to be available when a new project was assigned to me and for the rest of the day — I was feeling pretty good.  At home later that evening, I finally get a chance to really look at my (what I consider) high-class underwear.  I took them out of the bag, held them up and… that Charlie Fat Ass sign I seem to have on my back was blinking off and seemed to be saying, “got you again.”  In my hand I had a pair of hot pink underwear and a pair of white underwear.  The white underwear had one regular size leg hole and the other leg hole was the size of a bottle top!!!!!!!!!  Who can wear these? I’m sure you’ve guessed it…all sales were final.

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Oh For Goodness Sake!!!!

November 30, 2011 by Leave a Comment

I left home on time and got to the bus stop in time to wait for a bus that was sometimes on schedule and sometimes not.  I was early when I arrived at work and had time to sit for a few minutes, drink my coffee and checkout the NBA playoff stats from the previous night.  While sitting at my computer I happened to look at my jacket that was hanging on the coat rack.

Something wasn’t right. There was a vivid color on my jacket.  Perhaps it was the way the light was coming through the window that cast a glare or something?  In any event, I got up and took the jacket off the rack for a better look.  Ok, calling up my detective skills, I want to describe this right.  After all, I am the total avid fan of Law and Order and I know how to describe a crime scene.

On the left side of my jacket over the pocket was a series off scratches and circles of pen–like markings that covered a healthy area over my pocket and on the pocket itself.  It looked as though an ink pen ( a blue one) had been set free to roam… and roam it did.  Now the jacket had been in the closet until I had taken it out to wear.  No one else wore it, so how did this happen?  Of course I had to share this with my co-workers who were willing and able to come up with some pretty interesting scenarios as to how this could have happened.  Unable to come up with an explanation, I began seeking remedies on how could I remove the ink.  One co-worker promised to call her drycleaner friend and ask her advice.  In the meantime, I decided to go online and see if I could get some info on how to remove ink stains.

I found a lot of sites, even though most of them were advertising the detergent Biz and Tide.  One site I did find gave me the courage to go home to work on the stains myself.  Luckily, I all the items the site  listed, I had at home.  The directions were as follows: with a clean cloth and a white towel, place jacket on the towel and using rubbing alcohol blot and rub on the stain.  After rubbing and blotting the stain, rinse thoroughly and move to the next step( if the towel under the jacket gets wet, move the jacket to a dry spot); next using fingernail polish remover, non-acetone, repeat the previous step making sure to rinse thoroughly; next mix baking soda with a little water to make a past and repeat step 1, making sure to rinse thoroughly.  After the 3 products have been used, pour a little of your detergent directly onto the stains, rub in and let sit for a few minutes before washing in hot water.  I actually washed the jacket twice and there was no sign of ink stains anywhere on my jacket.

Feeling great and wanting to share the good news with my co-workers I proceeded to wear my new home-cleaned jacket to work.  However, there was no good news to share. Back at the bus stop I was going through my pocketbook to get my bus pass when I noticed that there was some blue in the same area as before on my jacket.  OK, another senior moment?  Not so, but if it wasn’t, had I dreamed this whole thing up? Did I really clean my jacket? There again were the same blue ink stains except this time they were in another area all together.  I know for a fact that when I removed my jacket from the closet, I checked it before putting it on and there were no stains.  I was getting ready to put my pocketbook back over my shoulder when I noticed that the bottom of my pocketbook was also blue.  Did that mean that whomever was residing in my closet had decided to go to work with me and was in my pocketbook?  I opened my pocketbook again and, oh for goodness sake, there, with the point opened and stuck to the lining of my pocketbook was a blue ball point pen that apparently had punctured the pocketbook and as I walked with the pocketbook over my shoulder, the movement made the pen draw creatively over my jacket as I walked; making the infamous pattern.

OK,  mystery solved– but will I be as successful as before?  Who knows?

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Way Back When

November 23, 2011 by Leave a Comment

I have a favorite set of sheets, I’m sure most of you do.  I love smelling them when they come out of the dryer smelling of fabric softener, spreading them on the bed and enjoying the clean and/or fragrant smell.  Thank heaven for automatic washers and dryers even though if I had the choice I would rather hang my sheets out to dry on a clear spring day.  There is nothing like that fresh air smell when you bring them in and nothing can duplicate that clean fresh air smell that I know of, even today.  So, what are your thoughts when you were  growing up, did you have a favorite set of sheets or did you even have sheets?  Well, what I remember is this.

I was raised in New Jersey, lived in a house with my grandmother first and then my aunt.   The family home had a backyard with a shed and what I remember most, is the clothes lines.  The key word here is clothes lines.  Do you remember Argo starch?  I do, I even  remember hearing that, back in the day, some pregnant women ate the starch right out of the box, I guess to satisfy a graving or something.  My memories are so vivid regarding the steps that were necessary to have clean, sweet smelling sheets that I really appreciate what time and change can do to a sheet in this day, thread count 500, etc.  Was thread count being used back then, I wonder.

Our clothes were washed in what was then known as a wringer washer.  You know, a round tub with four legs, that you hooked up to the sink to control the clean water coming in and the dirty water going out.  Somewhat similar to what we have today although definitely a whole lot more modern.  On the back of this tub was an apparatus that looked like a wash board.  This was where you inserted the clothes through the openings, piece by piece, to wring the water out of the clothes, the wringer washer.  Items such as blouses and shirts had to be placed in a solution of starch mixed with water, soaked, wrung out and taken outside to be hung up to dry.  Here is where it gets interesting.  The Atlantic Ocean surrounds a good part of the city I live in and when it is winter, it is cold, I mean really cold.  So, picture me bundled up to keep warm in my backyard hanging up clothes.  The sheets especially had to be folded once and using clothes pins, spread out across the lines.  This was bad enough, especially when it was in the teens and the wind was blowing.  But picture these same clothes and sheets when it is time to take them in.  Oh, my goodness, the clothes and especially the sheets are stiff as a board, hard to handle and hard to fold.  (Lets not even think about my fingers and nose).  The sheets and items such as blouses and shirts are then sprinkled with water until damp, rolled up like rolling pins and wrapped in a towel.  After an unspecified amount of time these items, sheets included, are ready to iron, yes, iron.

I’m assuming that these sheets I had to learn to iron were made out of probably 100% cotton or something similar.  In any event, ironing sheets to put on a bed to sleep on made absolutely no sense to me at all.  They are wrinkled when you iron them, your iron them and smooth them out and then you lay on them to wrinkle them again.  They looked really good when you first put them on the bed, and then…….the cycle begins all over again.

I appreciate so much in my older years, especially since I was on the other end of the spectrum when things were “a little old fashioned” and was the norm , not thinking that someday, things would be a tad bit better, fabrics with wrinkles was almost non-existent and washers and dryers, especially  now clean, steam and almost hang themselves up.  I am thankful for the experience (though I wasn’t thankful then) that allows me to be so appreciative of what is now and knowing about what used to be.  Thinking back gives a whole new meaning to the words “little things mean a lot.”

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