Fig.1. Habit, boredom or an obsessive nature?
I match the clothes pegs to the item going on the line. I've done this for years and dropped it into the conversation like a confessional at Sunday Lunch. My wife and daughter became very passionate about it - saying I always got it wrong. They in turn confessed to going out and changing the pegs around if I had made a mismatch of colour, or peg type. It appears that the wooden pegs should go with the yellow items, not the yellow 'soft' pegs. We never have enough white pegs and no black pegs at all.
My response to this discovery is to deliberately miss-match all the pegs and then see who is first to go out and change them.
It goes beyond this too - on how I put items out individually, or hang them over the line *
Can you imagine what life is like indoors?
Because no satisfactory system can be agreed upon the preference is not to put anything away at all: clothes, dishes and books come to mind.
Is there a gene for this kind of thing as it comes entirely from my wife's side: a combination of a desire for order, an inability to throw anything away and disagreement on each other's systems. My mum had a simple answer: if it didn't have its 'place' it went in the bin; the house looked forever like a show-home where no one lived, but at least you had a reason to get the vacuum cleaner out as you could find more than a patch of carpet to use it on.
With autumn approaching the dryer will be used.
Oh shit. I've just noticed its raining and I've just put the washing out. Now. Do I tug everything off and leave the pegs on the line (my wife), take it all down and bung it in the dryer ... or just leave it in the hope that the sun and wind later in the day will still do its work???!
Comments
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My thing is counting. Especially at work when I am slicing hams or making pizzas. It's doing my head in but I just have to.
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I play 'beat the till' - adding up the price of groceries before the shopkeeper does it on the till.