I have taken no photos today. This is a very good thing, because I look like a turkey. That would be because I have had my head inside the washing machine trying to clean the *********** thing after a feather and down (note the DOWN) pillow exploded in there. Down is fluff. It gets everywhere. I know this from experience.
For good measure, I am wearing a navy jersey. It has ample evidence all over it of my attempts to masquerade as a turkey. In desperation, I unwound sheets of that sticky de-fluffing paper from the wand thingy and stuck it all over the inside of the drum and then ripped it off, a la leg waxing. You have NO IDEA how much I managed to extract from the barrel. Then I googled "where is the filter" because I couldn't be bothered to find the instruction book, which is clearly in a Very Safe Place I have completely forgotten. And, with baking sheet in hand, levered the cover off, found said filter and cleaned it out. While lying on the stomach muttering unladylike things. Actually, I was not muttering, if truth be told. I was voicing them quite loudly. In a snarl. Maybe a screech.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror and thought - "There is no hope - you look appalling with your hair covered in fluff and feathers with added straw like texture from the heat, and the make up history and clothes dire from the fluff on the floor while you bonded with the exploded pillow, which was also, of course, wet."
So I baked more Custies.
I may have eaten some.
Wait for it.............
There is more.................
I ripped off the gaffer tape which has been holding the door of the tumble drier in place ever since the hinge snapped and it fell off. The tape has worked very well, thankyouverymuch. I am inventive. Only, that pillow which blew up was the second one I had washed. Number one did not explode, and it was in the drier. So I needed to see if it was dry, and so I ripped off the tape, and I SNAPPED the plastic trigger thingy, which makes the machine start, right off, and it fell inside the machine and now the drier is dead. It is no more. It is deceased. And nothing I have come up with, including the insertion of a pencil into the innards to try and trigger the on switch, works.
Oh yes...........the pillow was not dry. It is now propped up in front of a hot air vent.
It is winter. My house will be full of people who will need their clothes washed and dried and I have visions of the entire place being covered with wet clothes. Why, I could tie rope across the lounge from the light to the top of the tree and we could add the wet clothes to 2012's Christmas decor.
I am nothing if not classy.
I need a nap.
Or a bottle of gin.
Tomorrow I will ice the cake.
Or sit and suck my thumb and rock back and forth in a corner.
Oh yes - my daughter sets foot on British soil sometime before dawn tomorrow........................