My Washer died as I told you yesterday. For me those old Maytag commercials held true. There were occasional belt replacements but my 35 year old olive colored washer from the 1970’s lived a long full life. It cleaned many muddy jeans of Mountain Man’s.
A shopping plan was put in place as we mapped out the best route for gas and time constraints. Six places were on the list but alas a washer was not purchased. No, I found a good replacement. We were still on the hunt for the best price and delivery date when I twisted my ankle badly.
Sadly, I like Crazy Aunt Purl, I was just crossing a street when it happened. No grand story just klutziness. Aunt Purl wins, if you can call it that, because hers required medical attention. But it did put a stop to the shopping trip.
I did get more yarn for mittens and a new printer to replace the one that had a red head problem before my unfortunate kafuffle. I finished knitting the mitten thumb and started another while in the car.
But yesterday I wrote stories again. It was like water in the dessert. Yes, my foot was up, packed in ice, on a chair with a pillow next to my desk and I didn’t get all my exercise into my day. But new characters bubbled up to the surface and saw the light of day. No, not all of them are alive and well I must say but they dutifully served their purpose and moved on.
My ankle is still sore but I can walk today. I’m back to knitting away on mittens and perfecting the pattern as I slowly get feed back from my test knitters. (They are all busy with their own gift projects right now. And I thank them for trying it at all.)
Later today or tomorrow we will be back at the washer shopping again as the laundry pile grows around us. If not you can find me down by the pond with a basket of clothing and a rock. Mountain Man is not the only one who knows how to work with rocks around here.