Secret Garden

I’ve never been so disappointed that I’m caught up on my laundry in my whole life, because my grocery store had the ENTIRE DOWNY FAMILY half off in some sort of fabric softener fire sale, and I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but … well two things. First, I love laundry. So much. I love doing laundry, smelling laundry, folding laundry, putting away laundry. I am the sole laundry-doer in my house and won’t let Adam NEAR the laundry. I would, in all seriousness, be a professional laundress with absolutely no complaints whatsoever. I know all the tricks. I am a master folder/hanger. I can get out any stain under the sun. And yes, I will absolutely do your laundry if you want me to, provided you let me bring my own supplies.

This brings me to my second point, which is that the only thing I love more than laundry is laundry PRODUCTS. I love and use it all: detergent, fabric softener AND dryer sheets, except on products that would be more absorbent in their absence (dish towels and dish cloths, basically. Bath towels totally get the softener, I don’t care). Tide and Downy Clean Breeze are my favorites, although I use mostly eco-friendly stuff now (I don’t know why except it makes me feel virtuous. It probably does nothing), except in case of SALE SALE SALE, like now. Half off! Half off everything! Expensive fancy Downy softener! Dryer sheets! Lavender and vanilla! Cashmere something! Pear and gardenia! I bought out the store!

Bottom line: I have an entirely new arsenal of products and no laundry to do. It’s like TORTURE.

Also, fun tip: You know that Downy Wrinkle Releaser that they sell for a bahollion dollars? Well, maybe not a bahollion, but more than it’s worth, anyway. First of all, it works to de-wrinkle stuff, yes, but what it REALLY works for is relaxing fabrics like, say, if you’ve accidentally shrunk something (who me?), or if that one seam isn’t quite laying right and an iron would just make it confusing (I’m thinking of smocked shirts and ruching, really. Things that are a bitch to iron). It’s brilliant stuff and will de-shrink almost anything except for wool sweaters and it freshens clothes too! But you shouldn’t buy it. Ever. What you SHOULD do is buy a cheap spray bottle and even cheaper fabric softer (I have a container of Nice N’ Fluffy for this purpose) and mix one part softener to five parts water. Voila! Downy Wrinkle Releaser! For pennies. You’re welcome.

Anyway, to answer a few very kind questions, no, I didn’t get the tubal flushing/Oompa Loompa treatment on Friday — that’s coming later, with some kind of crazy tube lube (um, ew?) but I DID adore my new gynecologist. ADORE. She spent an UNGODLY amount of time with me, and there was no leaning or inappropriate fondling and she didn’t talk down to me about charting. I did, however, get some other slightly unpleasant things in addition to an ultrasound, and Allison is totally right. My uterus was SO TINY. I let out an awed, “ooooh!” at what I thought was my uterus until the doctor said, “I know! Your bladder is really full! It’s HUGE!”

Ha HA. Yes, perhaps I should brush up on my anatomy before I go all Florence Nightingale on the world. But when I finally saw it, it was so tiny, like a baby T-bone steak! And the tubes are wee little shoelaces!

The only things that remotely matched my expectations were my ovaries, which resembled lychee nuts almost exactly. And though she got all excited and pointed to a follicle, I couldn’t see it and was craning my neck all, “Where’s the follicle? WHERE IS THE FOLLICLE?” like I was trying to see my unborn child in there, or perhaps the visage of the Virgin Mary, when it was just a FOLLICLE. Hence, my strange desire to become a part of the medical community. I’m still pissed I couldn’t find the follicle and would be even if it weren’t my own. Ultrasounds are way cool. Feel free to invite me to your next one so I can ogle your follicles.

Incidentally, I was wrong about the boob saga: it seems it rages on. My doctor got the report and wants to follow up with a boob specialist to be 100 percent sure, which even she admits is superfluous. I kind of love her for that, as she’s being overly cautious and that makes me feel very safe, but what I love even more is that her office makes the appointments like they’re my own personal secretary — this is true of any referral they make. I sit back and accept or reject appointment times based on my ever-changing whims while relaxing on a tuffet and eating Ben & Jerry’s. This is beyond awesome.

Anyway, the week ahead promises many, um, treasures, including a new freelance project, a new hairdresser (Tomorrow! Hold me) and Tuesday, I’m planting the first tier of my garden, which will include carrots, radishes, lettuce and beets. (Avid gardeners may think I’m late for this, but ha HA! We’re zone one. Which also includes Canada. It’s, um, COLD HERE.) Other tiers will include herbs, tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers. I’m genuinely frightened, for I have false hopes of lush, fruitful gardens of rich vegetables that will nourish our family for months to come and I have fantasies of … well, of canning. I know. This whole fantasy is ridiculous and bound for nothing but disappointment.

Also, random heads up that we’re moving servers this week, so there will be some downtime at some point, I don’t know when. Not that you’re waiting with bated breath or anything, but I know that I usually panic and think I’ve broken the Internet when I get an error, but if it’s here, I assure you, your Internets are fine. We’re just moving servers, that’s all. (Bluehost here we come! So, ah, if you hate them, speak now or forever hold your peace!)

Have a great Monday!

*Bruce Springsteen. I don’t normally like him, but I have a few albums. It’s sort of required, isn’t it, if you’re a music person? Along with Bob Dylan and The Beatles, among others. I don’t love them, either, but I appreciate them. It’s much the same with good ole Bruce.

33 comments May 11th, 2008