Stale BBQ Shapes

We live in a suburb with no laundromat.

I find it incredibly odd that we have no laundromat in our suburb. Or in the next suburb. Or the next! I had to drive 3 suburbs over just to do my washing tonight.

From that, you may also deduce that the problems with our washing machine are ongoing… after two months :grr: I’ve been sparing you the endless spleen-venting over that, and you should be thankful. Today, however, we finally received news that the company will now replace the machine – with a newer and larger model, what’s more. Hoo-bloody-ray, at last. I expect it will take them another week or ten to deliver it though.

Anyway, back to the laundromat. With the help of a phone call from OtherHalf, who unlike me had the presence of mind to look it up in the yellow pages, I found our ‘nearest’ laundromat, and threw a week’s worth of washing in the biggest machine they had. Super-duper-hooper machine, that one. I want one!

Then I made a hasty retreat as there were two weird guys in there that I did not wish to be near. There are always creepy guys in laundromats. Why is that? Anyway, I sat in my car and stitched a little on my Christmas exchange (it’s nearly done, hooray!) When daylight grew scarce, I sat in my car and ate stale BBQ shapes.

I ate BBQ shapes because I’m pregnant and I crave junk food. The fact that they were stale had nothing to do with laundromats or pregnancy, but it did serve to make me want never ever to eat another BBQ shape :ill:

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And that, my friends, is the most roundabout way for anyone to anounce a pregnancy to the world. Don’t you think?!