Happy Friday, everyone. Happy May 1st. It is May Day. Why? What does May Day stand for? I'd look it up, but I am lazy, I guess. All I know about May Day is that, in some parts of the world, people gather in the village square, 'round a tall pole to which ribbons are affixed, and they walk slowly around the pole, the ribbons clutched in their sweaty palms. Or...something like that. Why? I haven't the foggiest notion. And, then, I do believe, they reverse the direction! Egads.I may put my little ole spin (no pun intended) on the oh-so sacrosanct May Day tradition: I think I will walk circles around my warshing machine. Yes, my warshing machine is "on the fritz," as they say. The spin cycle is...troubled. The motor is runnin', but the tub ain't spinnin'. Oy vey.
I have looked online and I am prepared to open the lid (after unplugging the beast) to see if, mayhaps, something--a bra, a sock, a clump of dirt, a rhesus monkey--is stuck somewhere in there. My bet is on the monkey. Those damned animals are nuisances! Just ask India.
Anyway, may your day be bright, may your footsteps be light, and may your monkeys not be tight.
In the warshing machine.
2 comments:
My friend Liz grew up in India and really, really hated the monkeys.
Good luck with your washer!
Did the monkeys come into Liz's bedroom whilst she slept? *That* would annoy me, too. :-P
Post a Comment