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We blew a…gasket? Washer? Something in the dish washer input line last night. Water everywhere. Until the plumber comes, I’m doing dishes by hand.

I don’t mind, to be honest. For a few days anyway. It’s kind of Zen.

My mother, who was an aggressive proto-feminist, used to say that washing dishes made her feel a direct connection to all the women in her ancestry. I don’t know about that. I can tell you for sure some of our foremothers were too snooty and high-falutin’ to wash their own dishes and some, I would guess, were too slatternly. And if you go back far enough, some probably just squatted on their haunches and drank straight out of the crick.

I know I do.

She wouldn’t live in a house that didn’t have a window over the sink, so she could look out and daydream. I have one, but it’s dark now.

Anyway, nothing planned for the weekend but dish washing, chicken painting and (yes) more yogurt making (that’s going really well, thanks for all the encouragement). Have a good weekend, whatever you may do!

March 9, 2018 — 10:38 pm
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