Domestic affairs

We are indeed living in crazy times. Cadet Bonespurs spent the weekend playing golf and pretending to president while Republicans abdicated all responsibility for doing their jobs. Several shit-tons (sorry, not sorry) of ammonium nitrate blew away a goodly chunk of Beirut (a city in some country to which Bonespurs couldn’t quite put a name, even as he was insisting it was a bomb). Schools across the country have opened despite insufficient precautions against COVID-19, and cases are unsurprisingly spiking.

Me? I had the day off yesterday, and I decided to clean around my washer and dryer. I pulled out several hundred plastic carrier bags and several score of paper grocery bags. Dunno what I’ll do with the latter, but the latter are my trash bags. I don’t see why I should pay for “plastic trash bags”, when supermarkets used to give these away for free. (I wasn’t sorry to see that stop—I have several score of cloth tote bags from every tech conference and street fair I’ve ever been to. But now grocery stores have reverted to plastic and paper bags, so my collections are expanding again.)

But here’s the STOP PRESS news: I also found several articles of clothing that had fallen around and between the appliances. Here I was blaming the dryer for eating them, but that which was lost has now been restored. Time for the fatted calf.