You'd have thought I'd know better after the episode with the quilt, but oh no…
Much to my — and the blue tits' — dismay, I've temporarily put a clothes line up in the garden so that I can dry a bed cover which has been drip-draining into the bath for the past 20 hours after I had a fit of bank holiday domesticity.
For those of you struggling for pub quiz questions, it turns out that a quilted blanket can hold eighty litres of bathwater.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Lessons unlearned
Labels:
fugue moments,
home,
optimism
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
I once tried to wash a duvet in the bath; it went moldy long before it was remotely dry. Stank the house out.
Sx
That was my quilt incident. Ah well...
They smell so much nicer dried it the fresh air.
Oh hold on tho'. Manchester!
Oh Pat! :-)
A trip to the dry cleaners may be on the cards.....
I had a seagull shit on my head yesterday. Yes, directly on my head, yes, a seagull, as landlocked as we are - they're nested on next-door's roof.
Post a Comment