The pomodoro is ticking.
First task of the day- groggily reaching out to turn on light and radio don't count- is to make sure that Jack is awake. I'm not sure if he wants me to do this, but I may as well check that he is awake before I go down two flights of stairs to the kitchen.
Next task is to make a mental note of how bad the hall/dinning room is; does it need scrubbing...stream clean...joking.
Then I do the washing.
Most of 'doing the washing' is chemical. I don't use the oubliette version since it became incontinent and caused a damp spot on the ceiling (the washing machine is on the second floor). Clothes soak over night in a Sainsbury's box (remember them?) and then it takes three sink fulls of hot water to get them rinsed sufficiently.
I hang them absolutely soaking wet on the line outside, feeling like a right prune for refusing to flaunt my techno-savvy (I suppose it once could have been seen that way?) usage of 'labour saving' devices.
Haha
fuel bills..
I like watching the water drip out of totally drenched clothes; rather zen. It also gives me a sense of (non zen) accomplishment. But today- a grey, damp, drizzle-day I will have to spin the soggy wash. I left it dripping on the draining board as I go into next task: porridge, and check my emails (read Wired and New Scientist articles) and let my mind wonder away from what ever the point of using the computer was supposed to be.
The pomodoro ticks.
I give myself 25 minuets for this.
Next comes washing up, cleaning floors and tables, dealing with 'stuff' and then on to the the task which is at the moment rag rugs. One of my many diverse thoughts leading out from my firm belief that if I take a job I really am doing someone else out of it and therefore I have to start some kind of business thing myself....is that surely I can make something (not make cup cakes) that could be sold?
Rag rugs can be pretty bad or pretty brilliant; mine are not very good, but I'm working on improving...
Have I given up on my theater idea?
Not sure...
Still thinking...
Latter, for my own amusement it is time to get to grips with that late Bronze Age text, Genesis. I find it trying that I forget which original stories went into Genesis, and exactly how they were changed. The easiest example for me to remember is Eve and the 'death of innocence'. In Genesis leaving 'the garden' is a terrible thing. In the Epic of Gilgamesh when the 'temptress' disillusions the man of his innocence, he becomes civilised: no longer eats grass, wants to have a bath frequently, cuts his hair and loves beer and cooked food!
I like it when myths are subverted to fit a different ideology...
Pomodoro end.
