The bathroom is down to twos and threes, from sixes and sevens. Even worse than sleeping in the guest room and traipsing down and upstairs for a toilet a couple of days has been finding the baskets my heart desired for my storage shelves. The first set became too wide when door trim was added.
The second set was returned when I learned it is necessary to inquire which dimension is which, shopping online. Length, width and height are interchangeable, I found; set two was returned, set three is being shipped.
The faithful old toilet brush, veteran of almost thirty years cleaning, did not reappear when the renovation was complete. Inquiries returned blank stares, so I shopped tonight for a new one. When did toilet plungers and toilet brushes become a combo? One base, two handles. Pop it open and one handle belongs to a plunger, the other the brush.
I stood in the aisle sadly surveying the display of brush, plunger combo packs. Suddenly in the back, almost behind the mop display, a single handle. I pulled it and found a brush, not a plunger. Granted one must open a little door to transfer the business end to the toilet; nevertheless, bonanza, and less than half the price.
Sitting here I realize I missed one item on my mental shopping list. Coffee filters. My monitor is liberally splattered with coffee. You know why. I read it can be dabbed away with a coffee filter dampened with distilled water. We’ll see, when I remember the filters.
I had an hour around town tonight, returning the nine inch deep and ten inch wide baskets, shopping, because Laura’s art teacher is up and teaching, although only two of her old students. The hip replacement was extra complicated and Mrs. P won’t be back in her upstairs, downtown studio until next year. We went to her home, an hour’s walk from Laura’s school.
Laura’s art assignment over the next two weeks; turn her sketch of two fried eggs into a color portrait of two fried eggs. The yolks are orange yellow, she explained on the way home; the whites are really grey white, but with crispy brown edges. I like mine over easy, with many little crispy brown circles looking back, but hers already are sunny side up.
A house in town. The ivy makes this tree seem to have leaves, but look at the bare branches beyond the flag pole. We expect winter by Wednesday.