More Snow Melt

Writing about Washing Dishes

Fidál (Grace), 15 Sultán (Sovereignty), 166 BE – Monday, February 1, 2010 about 6:52 PM Pacific Time

I'm attempting to write a poem about washing dishes. I did get one stanza completed and then encountered a brick wall. Grandma loved to wash dishes. Grandma loved to do house work. She would get up in the middle of the night and clean house. Grandpa would be in bed snoring away and Grandma would be cleaning house.

I haven't started cleaning house in the middle of the night, but I have did dishes. In fact, I'm going to do dishes tonight before I go to bed. Today Mom and I spent the afternoon in her eye doctor's office. The doctor evaluated Mom for cataract surgery on her left eye and then scheduled the surgery for March 31.

Spending all afternoon in a doctor's office is tiring. On the way home, we stopped at Port o' Subs and bought the 2 ft. special. We ate half the sandwich for dinner and we have half left for breakfast in the morning. After we ate, Mom went to bed. She didn't get the dishes washed today, so I'm going to have to wash them tonight or wake up to dirty dishes in the sink.

Come to think about it, Mom hasn't did the dishes on a regular basis lately, I'm the one doing them. I'm going to have to encourage her to wash dishes. Mom always liked washing dishes, maybe if I bought her a new dishpan, she'd do them more often. It isn't that I don't like doing dishes, but Mom needs to do something that would make her feel useful.