A Soapbox Moment Ironed Out at the End

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Those Dishes Won’t Do Themselves.”

I always leave them in the hope they will. You never know, one day …

And I don’t believe in using dish washers (well the non-people kind). I had a phone call from the local energy trust regarding saving energy. Now I am pretty sure you can’t save much more than I do. Well maybe putting a fourth layer on top of the already cumbersome three layers may help a bit, but come on, my soul is almost smothered into extinction during the winter months with 3 layers a fourth is beyond acceptable.

So we discussed all sorts of ways I use energy and the dishwasher came up for discussion. I expressed my perspective and was shot down in flames for not having one. He told me that I would save more energy and do less damage to the environment if I had a dishwasher. I told him I agreed and would insist in future in cajoling the next human through the door via the kitchen sink.

I don’t think he appreciated my humour.

I offered to be put to the test – I did not believe that if I lived to the grand old age of one hundred and washed up as often as I do that I could justify the damage to the environment caused by the mining, manufacturing, construction, transportation, maintenance, running costs and pollution.

Amazingly, he believed he had sufficient statistics to prove me wrong. It was at that point that we parted company.

Now, where was I?

I had come to believe that soapboxes were a thing of my past!

I am not a fan of housework generally, I can always think of something more interesting to do, however, my home is always clean and reasonably tidy. I really don’t like to create work for myself.

I used to loathe ironing but developed the art of buying clothes that needed less ironing and making sure I hung them up to dry, preferably outside. It’s amazing how well nature shakes and flaps the creases out of the fabric. When summer finally arrives it is impossible to avoid the iron, but I had an epiphany one day and decided that in order to enjoy a job I hated I would find a way to make it acceptable. So I selected some peaceful music to listen to, and whilst I ironed, I flattened out all the creases in my life.

I could have become carried away with enthusiasm for the task but winter returned and out came the thick jumpers again.

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