Weather Forecasts

I have to confess an addiction to the BBC weather site, with four hourly predictions. And it is all because of the laundry. I am obsessed with getting it dry outside. I have entered into this competition with the power company. They are not at all aware of their involvement in this dual but they will not win! So far in the last five weeks I have used the tumble dryer just once. Pretty impressive for a country that appears to have forgotten that the progressing of the months should bring an improvement in the climactic conditions.

I am also approaching the laundry with a military precision. No more overflowing, needed to be sorted and ironed laundry baskets for me. Nope!! I am folding straight from the line and running up and down those stairs to put stuff straight away into drawers, leaving just a few things that need ironed and if I can I am taking things off the line, ironing them there and then on the way to upstairs.
Do I sound obsessive? You better believe it. Thought you might appreciate a bit of dialogue in our car on the way home from church last Sunday.

Mum: (anguished tone) Oh no!
Little girl: What's the matter? What is it Mummy?
Mum: Dang dang and dang it!!
Littler boy: What is it? What happened?
Mum: It is starting to rain. It cannot rain. The washing is out.
Little girl: Maybe it is not raining on our house
Dad: Yep maybe that big black cloud is not raining at our house.
Mum: Right that is it! Listen up people! When we get home we are going to work as a team so shape up and listen carefully. I want all your butts out this car and moving as fast as those legs can carry you to the back garden. No taking anything from the car. You run. Got it? And you start carrying laundry in as quick as you can. It is not getting wet. Dang this bus in front of us. It is a bus. Why is it not stopping to let folk on and off and letting me passed. Does it not know that is what buses do. Shift it, bus, my laundry is getting wet. Right! Do we all understand what is expected.
Littler boy: But Muuuummy. I just got wee legs. I can't carry very much or run fast.
Mum: Look are you part of this team or what? You carry as much as you can. Got it?!
Littler boy: Eh........
Mum:Right are you ready?
Mum: Let's do this thing!

Hey, there were three loads out there. That was just too many points to concede! And we did it and those wee legs were attached to one very proud little boy, proud to be part of the team and too little to know that his Mummy is just a little insane.