1916 Megrims
Day 10 of the Fortnight in 1916, and I have woken up blue and glum and over it. I don’t want to be in 1916 anymore! I did not want to get up this morning and spend 45(!) minutes dressing: brushing my hair and putting it up and putting on all the layers of required clothes. I don’t want to have to wait for the kettle to boil*, and be in the kitchen while I make breakfast because I can’t just stick toast in the toaster and just walk away. I definitely DON’T want to do today’s chore, which is laundry. Last week’s was the trial one: this is the real thing. I have a full week’s worth of clothes, and sheets, and I’ve decided to really give it a proper and have gone through Mr D’s closet and fetched out every business shirt I thought would benefit from a bit of Sunlight Soap and a good scrub, so there is a large basket. And it’s cold, and grey, and windy, and hanging laundry will …