So last Memorial Day had a big appliance sale, of course, and since our dryer has been broken since last August, we splurged and got a new washer/dryer with all the fancy bells and whistles.
Width is standardized. We did not, however, think to measure for depth.
These are sufficiently deeper than the last set that we had to take the little folding doors off the laundry alcove.
Now, the top surface of the washing machine (we have front loaders) fills inevitably with cleaning supplies, lint, random things extracted from pockets before washing, etc. It is known.
But we were clever! CLEVER LIKE WEASELS! We sprang for the pedestal drawer things! That way we could stick the random cleaning supplies in the drawers! Genius, right?
...right?
This added about eighteen inches of height to the already-too-large washer and dryer.
Did I mention the only color available in-store for the super discount was “Charcoal Blaze”?
And that is why, when you turn the corner in the kitchen, you now encounter the monolith from 2001.
It plays a little song when the laundry is finished. I am trying to figure out if Kevin can teach it to play “Thus Spake Zarathustra.” I expect to find the cats worshipping it someday.
There may be a moral here about measuring the dimensions in advance, but I do not know what it is.
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Okay, to my mild surprise, plenty of y’all do want to hear about Salvias, aka THE BEST PLANT GENUS aka my personal horticultural obsession.
Salvia (no, no saliva) is a branch of the mighty Menthae clan, thus putting it on a footing with mints, catmints, Agastache, bee balm, etc. It is one of the very largest genuses, with over 900 species.
Now, I have no beef with moles. They eat grubs, they don’t eat plants, and the minor annoyance of having to stamp down my walkway pavers which have been heaved up by tunneling is, honestly, pretty minor.
But.
Where there is a mole tunnel, there is often an opportunistic vole coming in to chow down on plants. And more importantly, it drives Hound bonkers and she will dig for them, causing untold havoc. We lost one mole and two hostas to this last winter.
Still, I’m really kinda thrilled the dirt is loose enough now for a mole to come along. I started on grim Carolina clay, the kind they make literal bricks out of, so this is a nice mild nuisance to have.
Many moons ago, the first job I worked out of college was at Prudential Insurance, reading claim forms for a class action lawsuit. There were literally hundreds of thousands of twenty-page handwritten answers scanned into the computers.
How did the insurance agent defraud you? What exactly did he say? How do you feel about it?
We would then grade them from 0-3 based on how defrauded they were and Prudential would give them a paid-up insurance policy.
It was there that I learned firsthand that corporate America is completely batshit. For example, Prudential (Pru) needed to show the auditors they were getting cases out the door, so they required everyone to complete 18 cases a week.
Among the many projects I will never get to is one titled “Loris in Wonderland.”
“Mary Anne!” the White Rabbit shouted, flecks of spittle flying from behind his enormous teeth. “Mary Anne, where are my gloves and my fan?!”
The loris’s name was not Mary Anne.
The cake read EAT ME and the bottle read DRINK ME, but lorises are functionally illiterate (except for one particularly insufferable cousin who had been to Oxford and would not stop talking about it) so the loris ignored both.