All posts by CadyLy

Catching Up, Part I

Easter

Well, it has certainly been a while since I posted any of my reflections from the Little White Book.  Have you guys missed my random musings?  🙂

LWB, Saturday 4/5

Today, we talk about the apostles being in the boat in the Sea of Galilee as a storm is going on, and how in the midst of it, they see Jesus walking on the water towards them.  And how this is reassuring (because 1.  He is not conquered by raging storms  2.  He can come to you no matter where you are and 3.  as long as Jesus is with you, there is nothing to fear).

I know I tend to be an odd mix of fearless/wild/reckless and timid/scared/hesitant.  Which pretty much guarantees that I’ll respond inappropriately under any circumstance.  Isn’t that great?!  🙂  Thank God for God.  With Him as my anchor, I can both be confident when I need confidence and strength; and I can be tamed when I am all over the map.  It is so good to have a reference, so that I can come back to center when I drift too far afield.  (Please note:  I am still VERY much a work in progress!)

My original reflection on this was that it goes back to that original question, “Do you trust God?”  Adam and Eve didn’t.  If you believe in God, why would you be afraid?  Even if you would die, you would just be (hopefully) going home.

LWB, Friday 4/4

To paraphrase the LWB, we are talking about the multiplication of the loaves and the fishes, and how the apostles thought the situation hopeless, but that Jesus fed everyone with plenty to spare.  Similarly, we often think that there is no way that we can make a difference in the world’s problems, because they seem so far beyond the scope of capability of one individual.  *I* cannot possibly end world hunger, or gain world peace, or eradicate racism/sexism or any of this.  So, just as the apostles thought that it can’t be done, so too do I often think that it can’t be done.  But the mistake is seeing God as limited.

This is GOD!  He can do ANYTHING!  He created the universe, after all, and I’m thinking that he can’t do….what?

Ah.  I need to come to know, really know, that things occur due to *God’s* initiative, and not of my own merit.  I need to let His grace flow through me, and not be impeded by my personal doubts.

Fr. John was talking the other day of when he was in seminary in Rome, standing before the Pope and getting the impression that he was telling him to simply, “Be great.”  Listening to it then (way back Wednesday, two days ago), I thought of that in the way he presented it.  At the moment, when I think of that story and try to apply it here to me (‘cuz it’s *all* about me), I think that my “being great” has to be about letting God work through me.  If God has no limits, and I do not put a limit on what He can accomplish through me, who knows what good I may do?  His will, not my will.  Seems to be a recurring theme this week.  How about that?  You don’t think someone’s trying to give me a hint, do you?

LWB, Thursday 4/3

Today’s Gospel and reflection deal with the fact that God the Father does not ration His gift of the Spirit.  The LWB goes on to elaborate and show us how none of the persons of the Trinity are anything but ridiculously generous with us in all that is given to us.  And it isn’t just quantity which is heaped upon us, the gifts which are given are of the finest quality.

How can it be then that I can go through my day (week/month/year) and not recognize these amazing gifts?  Oh, yes.  That’s right.  Because of my amazing capacity for taking things for granted.  It gets worse, too.  See, because not only to I take things for granted, but I also am arrogant enough to have…expectations.  Oh, yes.  Jenn definitely has her own opinion about How Things Should Be.  She might not necessarily tell you — she’s contrary like that — but the sentiment exists nonetheless.  Especially when it comes to HER plan for HER life.

Far be it for me to say that Jenn could have had some thoughts like:

1.  At age 18, I definitely should be living on my own with my own house, or at the *very* least, my own apartment.

2.  I *absolutely* wanted to have a husband and start having a family by the time I was 25, although I was fine with starting earlier — you know, like at age 19.  After all, I had already lived so incredibly long that I might as well get on with it before I got — horrors — old.

3.  I *certainly* wanted to be finished having all my children by the time I was 30.  My mom had her last child when she was 30, and she still has enough energy to run around with us.  I wouldn’t want to be so old that I couldn’t play with my children and do all the things with them that I wanted to do.  (Remember, too, that Jenn had grandiose dreams of attending all the Gymboree classes, and Mommy and Me classes, and Toddler Aquatics sessions, etc. etc. etc.)

4.  And somewhere in there, I was going to finish the 4 or 5 degrees that I wanted to complete, have a job that I loved, find time to have an immaculate and well-organized home, start making healthy and well-balanced meals for my family, get all of my childhood photographs into artistically done albums, become really good at ice skating and tennis and skiing and swimming, learn how to dive, write amazing books which would inspire millions, become a doctor, find a cure for AIDS and those cool little hemorrhagic virii while working in a world-class center like CDC or USAMRIID, and generally do all manner of astounding things so that . . . people would love me.

Really, I just wanted to be loved.

I just felt that I had to *do* something — otherwise, there was no reason for anyone to love me.  And the more I wanted — needed — to be loved, the more elaborate the goals (which of course, became fantasies, and the more I realized that I was not living up to what I thought I should be doing, and compared my life to my arbitrary measuring stick of what it should be like and found it wanting, the more depressed I became at the utter failure that I was).

Okie dokie, we are *really* healthy now, right?  🙂

So, current day, where are we?

1.  Well, I *am* living on my own, in a house.  I’m not currently paying the mortgage as I should, but that’s another matter.

2.  I *had* a husband, and a baby.

3.  I am now — oh, my — 30, divorced and working on an annulment, and do not have any (living) children.

4.  Well, I did manage to eke out one degree, but none of the others, although I have added a few more degrees to the list of ones I would like to have.  I *do* have a job that I love; well, at least people who I work for whom I love.  Hahaha, clean organized house — gimme a break!  I *did* start towards that healthy meal thing this Lent.  Um, yeah, photos still in shoeboxes…14 shoeboxes to be precise — at least I did kind of get the shoeboxes grouped into rough categories, although the last years photos…not so much.  And please excuse me while I roll on the floor for a while laughing maniacally at the rest of those items.

And getting those people to love me?  Well, I’m told that some do, and that God *certainly* does — just for me, not for anything that I did.  And I am trying to work on understanding that concept.

So, my plans have largely gone the way Of Mice and Men.  Maybe I’ll be able to start letting go of my vision of my future, and be open to His plan for my future…since, you know, He probably has a better plan than me anyway.    🙂

 LWB, Wednesday 4/2

Today’s Gospel speaks of darkness and light and our choices (Jn 3:16-21).  The LWB reflection reminds us that we are wary of letting others into that core of us, that most of us have some sort of façade that we display in public.  We wouldn’t want to “air our dirty laundry.”  We generally want others to think well of us, and so we promote that which is good, and try to hide that which is bad in our own character.  We can become so good at doing this that we end up lying to ourselves about our inner natures — thinking that we are better than we actually are.  It is so much easier to gloss over the (many) parts of my day where I was sinful or neglectful or apathetic or selfish, and think instead on the (few) times of the day where I actually projected Jesus onto others.  So, I would have to answer the book — no, I don’t often allow myself to look honestly at myself.  Why not?  Because that is quite often a pretty ugly picture.

So here comes the hard part — actually taking a good look at yourself.  Here, too, it can become easy to shift from one extreme to the other, and think that everything that you do is bad or not good enough, or simply that you could have done more.  This in itself *can* be a healthy way to grow into a more holy life.  However, I am a little more messed up that that, and when I do take a look at myself, I see *only* the bad, and start developing this unhealthy disgust with myself, to which I like to combine a little self-loathing and feelings of futility at the whole project that is me.

Which is why the wise people who wrote this little book told you to invite the Lord to this self-inspection.  He knows everything about me, after all.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  And you know what?  He loves me!  No matter how far astray I’ve gone, He just wants me to turn back to Him and work on getting home.  And He’s here to help, and He’s here for the entire journey.  I can’t find my way on my own.  I’m my own worst enemy at times (okay, most of the time).  But if I trust in Him and follow His guidance, I will certainly get to my destination.  But, what will happen if I continue to play ostrich to my faults and failings?  Perhaps the day of my judgment will come before I have had a chance to work out my problem areas (especially given the fact that I *love* to procrastinate, particularly with those chores I dislike the most). 

Now for perhaps the hardest part of all:  tuning out my inner chatter so that I can listen for God when He tries to nudge me in the right direction.

 End of Part I:
Since the next few days begin the “Bread of Life Discourse,” I will end this post here, and finish catching up later.  🙂

Go Ahead, Push My Buttons

Presentations/Talks, Right to Life Issues

Okay, I read in OLGC bulletin that there was going to be a talk on U-M campus entitled “Why Liberals and Feminists Should Be Pro-Life” and decided to stay a little late at work and head over.  There was so much in that talk that I could blog about, but for now I’ll just comment on one thing at the end during the question and answer period.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to give a longer post on the talk over the weekend.

Towards the end of the question and answer period, which kept trying to become a heated debate between students/attendees, a girl (I call everyone girl, regardless of age, just a quirk of mine — she called herself an X-year old woman) was upset at the speaker, saying (essentially) that the speaker was talking of ideals and of a perfect world that does not exist, and that since we are currently in a world where women are still being put down for their sex and still in relationships where the men have control over when the couple will be conjugally active and where rape still exists — that abortion should still be legal, so that these women would not be forced to continue with a pregnancy that they might not have freely chosen.  One of her main points was that abortion was necessary as long as society devalued women [her] because “I have a vagina.”

Okay.  So my interpretation of what she is saying goes something like this:  You are upset because someone [males in power in society, presumably] is not giving you full human rights and dignity due to the anatomical fact that you have a vagina.  However, you do not see any irony in the fact that you are willing to deny someone [the unborn] every human right, beginning with the right to life, due to the anatomical fact that they have an umbilical cord?

And, further, if you are concerned about equal status and equal value amongst the sexes, promoting an attitude where certain people [the unborn] are not valued is not going to promote a societal ethos where that equality will be felt in the heart of the people.  Only if every single person, regardless of age, sex, birth status, mental capacity, etc., is seen as a unique, unrepeatable, special individual made in the image and likeness of God, in whom God is deeply and radically in love, can we begin to live in a society where each person is treated with the respect and dignity that they deserve.

 Yeah, so basically, I tried really hard to fight the urge to want to whap everyone there upside the head with a copy of “Theology of the Body.”

I may have to create a whole separate page on my blog just to talk about this issue, until I have properly vented.  What do you think?  Shall we have a pro-life forum here?  🙂

Most Ridiculous Thing I’ve Heard All Day

Health and Medicine, Humor of the Day, Theology of the Body

Earlier today, one of our nurses came up to me and mentioned that an insurance company denied a patient a PET scan because they only approve so many PET scans per year, and this particular patient (not one of mine) was not on their list.  Nevermind if it’s a medically necessary study, or the fact that the patient hasn’t had one before.  “We gave a PET scan to “Frank,” so “Bill” will be unable to have one.”  What kind of policy is that?  Assuming that you are an insurance company and you have 100 patients and you only approve 5 PET scans a year, how do you determine who gets one?  Alphabetically?  Certainly they do not have the kind of information to be able to know who is worse off from a medical perspective, especially if a PET can tell you about the extent of the disease, and that’s precisely what they are limiting.

But then, she said the best thing of all.  Apparently the insurance representative told her that it was okay to deny the authorization for the PET scan, since, “The pancreas is an experimental organ anyway.”

Really?  Huh.  And here I thought that God had been making people with pancreases since Adam and Eve.  Apparently not.  Since when did people start becoming equipped with a pancreas? 

So, they are saying that God is experimenting with the human body??  (Obviously, they cannot be arguing from a Darwinian model, since random mutation and evolutionary processes can hardly qualify as an “experiment.”  You kinda need sentience for that, in order to evaluate results.)

What?  To see if people with pancreases sinned less than people without pancreases?  But, God is all-knowing.  He doesn’t need to conduct experiments.  If we are truly free-willed, then the presence or absence of a pancreas (assuming that a pancreas affects the decisions that we make, morally speaking) would have to have no affect on our decisions, or then God would be skewing things either in His favor, or out of His favor, as it comes to our choosing to be obedient or not.

So what type of experiment could God be running that He wouldn’t know the answer to already, and that wouldn’t influence our will?

And more to the point, how is it that this insurance company is privy to God’s experiments?  If they have some sort of direct pipe to know His mind on things — I want in on that!  It would save me a lot of grief if I already knew the correct answer/response to things, instead of trying to discern on my own, because I *know* that *my* thinking is flawed.

But okay, let’s examine this pancreas issue for just a moment.  My vote is that the pancreas would increase our tendency to sin.  Why do I say this?  Well, if your blood sugar is either too high or too low, then you are more prone to mood swings, and behaving poorly because your emotions may be erratic and you are irritable.  This of course supposes that the previous system (in the non-pancreas people) worked perfectly.

 Of course, the other option is that the pancreas is *not* an experimental organ, and is an integral part of God’s design for the body.

More Fun with Appliances

Humor of the Day, Of Trials Opportunities and Gifts

Hahahahaha! Just now, S was making a pot of coffee for her and Dr. K (as the only 2 people in the office without Starbucks addictions, who can still drink “normal” coffee). For whatever reason, it doesn’t drain down and fills the little filter bucket, which then overflows, making a huge mess over the counter. I help her clean it up, and she tries again. Same thing. She calls me over for help. Another secretary, K, wanders over to see what the fuss is about. So, now K and S are watching as I try to take the filter-bucket-thing off (which is full of water, grounds and coffee). It sticks on something coming off and hot water, coffee and grounds splash all over me and the surrounding area. (It’s hot!) I was happy it didn’t get K or S. Of course I couldn’t be wearing a dark colored shirt this morning, so I look like I’ve been in a mud fight. We were laughing so hard!

After we clean this up, I say, “Let’s try it again!” (See, I am wise. Or stupid. Something.) “Only this time, we’ll only use 3 cups of water and the filter and see if we can get the water to go through by itself.” Now, picture it: 3 secretaries are huddled around this tiny coffeemaker, watching it brew…hot water. 🙂 This worked fine, so we next try to make a regular pot of coffee again. This time, we actually get it.

Dr. K will be back in about 15 minutes from his meeting before he goes to clinic. I think I shall stand up and say, “I had to fight for it, but I won some coffee for you this morning!”

Whoever said secretarial work is dull was soooo wrong!

Hahaha! Dr. K leaves for clinic, “Don’t touch anything electrical!”

Right Now Is a Good Thing

Easter

Little White Book, Tuesday 4/1

Nicodemus asks Jesus about God, and Jesus answers him that the He is the only one who has seen the Father, and that if He has been preaching about things of this world and we do not understand, what sense does it make to preach of things of the life to come?

Well, certainly that makes sense.  If I don’t understand quadratic equations, how am I going to understand triple integrals?  I can’t read War and Peace, if I am struggling to read Dr. Seuss.

A quote from the LWB from Jesus, “As the Father loves me, so do I love you.”  Hmm….  And the Father, with all of His love for His only Son, still willed that Jesus would go through His Passion, so that we could all be redeemed.  Makes one think twice about all the trials that one has in her own life.  If Jesus had to go through *that* for a greater purpose (which was unfair to Him — He was without sin!), then certainly there is reason for the trials that I undergo.  My trials are either:

1.  Of my own making and allowed by God.
2.  Of someone else’s making and allowed by God.
3.  From God.

He can use *any* circumstance for my good.  I may not understand right now how these things can be good, but this will be revealed to me later.  I have to learn to trust in Him and in His love for me.  How often is it that I wish to be like Nicodemus and have all of my questions answered right now about the nature of things.  Jesus is just reminding us that we are not yet ready to have all of our questions answered.  But, don’t fall into the trap of Adam and Eve and think that God is holding out on us, because it is His intention all along to have all of us share in His divine life.  We just have to be patient.

This, of course, is one of the classic ways in which I tend to screw things up for myself:  I can’t wait.  I always want to rush through things and get to the next stage, to achieve more, to accomplish the next task, to grow up.  Do, do, do.  In my frenzied movement, I rarely take the time to enjoy and give thanks for the present.  God loves you where you are — it would probably be a good thing to spend some time there, with Him, instead of ignoring this and constantly looking ahead.

Who Am I?

Meme

You’re St. Justin Martyr!

You have a positive and hopeful attitude toward the world. You think that nature, history, and even the pagan philosophers were often guided by God in preparation for the Advent of the Christ. You find “seeds of the Word” in unexpected places. You’re patient and willing to explain the faith to unbelievers.

Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers!

Okay, okay, this quiz has some REALLY funny answers:

When you hear the co-worker in the next cubicle utter heresy, you instinctively…
 b. hit him with a mallet and then question his masculinity.
d. suggest that the current troubles in the Holy Land are his fault.

You think marriage…
a. is useful for the propagation of future celibates.

“Hit him with a mallet and then question his masculinity.” — What?  Are you implying that this is MY answer?  (Please ignore my 9-iron policy and The Manhood Test.  Oh, and that little hammer-thing over there?  It’s nothing.  Don’t worry over it.)

Hedging

Easter

Little White Book, Monday 3/30

The Feast of the Annunciation

Of course, today we are discussing Mary’s “Yes” to God, and whether in our day-to-day routine we are saying “Yes” or “No” to God.  They point out that it’s usually not a direct “yes” or “no,” but rather a failure to take God into account in our activities and decisions.

Guilty.  I do not always take God’s position into consideration for many things that I do.  I may do an examination of conscience at the end of the day, and try to see if I messed up anywhere, but there is a distinct lack of forethought about these things.  Which, I would think, would tend to indicate that in those moments, God wasn’t in the forefront.  He wasn’t in the prime location in my thoughts.  I didn’t have Him first.  My priorities were out-of-line.

Not that I mean to not think about God, but perhaps I am, just a teeny bit impulsive and act/talk without thinking.  Only later, will I (maybe) take a look and reconsider things.  I’m sure I’d get into much less trouble (both with God and with others) if I thought first.

Another issue is giving over completely to His will.  Have you guys ever found yourselves hedging like this:  “Okay God, I will accept whatever it is that You want for this situation, but if it’s okay with You…would You please keep in mind that I would like X as an outcome?  Thank You!”  Is that okay?  Can you give over control, but retain a preference?

How Can One Conceive of the Infinite?

Easter

Little White Book, Saturday 3/30

(Yep, I’m a day behind.  I’ll try to catch up.)

This reading is mainly directed at getting us to think about the immense magnitude of an infinite God, and what that might mean to us.  Then it tells us that, “Faith is nothing more and nothing less than accepting my connection with God who chose not to be distant….”

Okay, I am having as hard of a time trying to find something insightful to this today as I was having yesterday.  I don’t think my little pea-brain can yet deal with the concept of an infinitely powerful God who is radically in love with ME.  I can understand and accept the concept, but to get it — to REALLY get it?  I don’t know that I am there yet.

Any suggestions?

Faith or Fear?

Easter, Of Trials Opportunities and Gifts

Little White Book, Saturday 3/29

Today’s Gospel (Mk 16:9-15) tells us of how the faithful disciples of Jesus were hesitant to believe in the Resurrection until confronted with hard evidence.  The reflection in the LWB talks of the context of Mark’s writing, being that the Christians had just gone through torture and persecution under Nero.  It claims that there were many Christians who, after denying their faith to save their own bacon, wanted readmission into the Christian community.  As the reflection concludes:

Mark wanted to remind them that the disciples failed too — including Peter.  But they were able to emerge from failure to greatness, even giving their lives in martyrdom.  We can all think of our failures.  And we can all take heart from Mark — he meant his Gospel for us too.

In the context of today being Divine Mercy Sunday, I kind of take this as being a sign that God wants us to know of His mercy, and not that he wants to squish us for our weaknesses and times of unbelief.  If you think back to the story of the 1 bad sheep and the 99 good sheep — this is like that.  How happy is He about these who repent of their denial of Him, and return to the church?  He wants us to come home.  Not by any means to say that one can just go around denying Jesus — that this is okay, for certainly it is not.  He was crucified, died, was buried, descended into Hell, was resurrected and ascended into heaven — for ME (and you).  If He cannot die, and He loves me so very much, what use have I in being afraid of whatever anyone might do to me here on earth?

Bold words, eh?  He knows that I’m scared — all the time.  I would like to think that I would have enough personal integrity to do the right thing, but I also know that I’m not always the strongest person, and that I’m afraid of pain, and that I doubt.  Not necessarily that I doubt Him, but that I doubt myself and my decisions.  It is one thing to know the correct answer or response, and quite another to actually live it out.

I pray that I will not be tested as those early Christians were tested, but failing that, that God would give me the grace and strength to live with personal integrity to my faith.  And I pray, too, that despite my weaknesses and failings, that God will grant me His mercy, if I but continue to repent and seek Him out.  Please Lord, keep me on Your path.

I Baptize You in the Name of Maytag, GE and Kenmore

Humor of the Day, Of Trials Opportunities and Gifts

Does anyone else have a recurrent theme of trial in their life?  For me, this seems to be laundry.

A little history:  Growing up, my mom was the Energizer Bunny of Housekeeping.  You would wake up in the morning, head off to the bathroom to get ready for the day, and by the time you returned, your bed was make, your clothes put in the laundry room, things generally straightened and *sniff* is that the scent of furniture polish?  Okay, maybe not quite to that extent (on the weekdays, anyway), but truly so much so that when I was 17 and left home to join the Navy — I didn’t know how to operate the washing machine.

One night, I had an overnight watch.  One of our RDCs, Petty Officer Hayes (“You people drive me CRAZY!”), asked/told me to (sneakily, since we weren’t supposed to do this at night) do a load of laundry.  Our barracks was a huge, long warehouse-type room with dozens of bunk beds on either side of the room with lockers in-between, an office with a cot-bed in case one of the RDCs wanted to overnight with us, and a large bathroom, with a washer and dryer, several sinks, a row of toilet stalls (sans doors) and the “shower room” (imagine a 15 x 10 foot room with 10 or so shower heads, wherein 40 girls at a time would cram in for 10 minutes of cleaning — gotta love the military!).  As I followed her over to the washing machine, I looked it over.  I didn’t think that this would be that complex of a task; however, I had visions of the washing machine vibrating across the room as suds spewed out of it to drown us all.  So, I did the one thing I should have never done — I asked her how one went about using the appliance.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”  This is how the “conversation” started.  After questioning my intelligence, my parents lack of child-rearing skills, and the wisdom of the United States Government for allowing me entrance into boot camp, she asked one final question, “What rate are you going into?”

“Nukes, Electronic Technician.”

“Figures.  May the Lord help us all.”  After that, she gave me some basic instruction on what to do and left, giving one final roll of her eyes and shake of her head, her heels clacking loudly on the floor.  (“Ain’t no man gonna tell me I can’t wear a skirt!”  Our RDCs really had some personality — it was great, when it wasn’t negatively directed towards you.)

I made it through that night without incident, and managed to muddle my way through the first few weeks down in Orlando (although I must say, that many times a group of us would make a “night” of laundry and would tackle this together, hanging out while our cycles ran, since we weren’t supposed to leave our laundry unattended).

Then, I started hanging out with this one guy.  I could write volumes about him, but I’ll just say here that he was the type of guy that wore a white T-shirt and ripped jeans with marker written all over them.  Sometimes with a vest.  No sneakers, but polished shoes.  Sometimes the ripped jeans, no shirt, and just the vest.  But, before you think him just another scruffy punk, I will have to note that his T-shirt and jeans were always ironed.  Oh, yes.  He was quite meticulous in his clothing.

And he schooled me in the art of laundry.  You must first separate all of your clothes:  lights, whites, darks, blacks, “unmentionables,” jeans, heavily soiled items….  The list went on and on.  Then you put them in the machine with the appropriate temperature water and kind and quantity of detergent (apparently, you should not use solely powder or solely liquid detergent, there is a difference for a reason).  And the reason you do not leave your clothes unattended is so that as soon as the wash cycle ends, you can rescue your clothes from the washer — fold them — and then place them in the dryer.  Okay, okay.  Separate dryers, again according to the nature of the fabric being dried and how hot, etc, etc.  Seriously, fold them.  Why?  Because if you fold them before putting them into the dryer, you will have less wrinkles.  Then, as soon as the dry cycle ends, take them out of the dryer (watch those hot hot little zippers and buttons), and hang up the things that should be hung, and fold the things that should be folded, and make a separate pile for the things which will need to be ironed.

Alrighty then.  I was so happy to have proper instruction.  I gleefully set about doing my laundry in this manner, but quickly came to find that this meant quite a few washers for not so very many clothes.  No matter.  I just made sure to grab my roommate’s clothes and my boyfriend’s clothes and lug the whole heap to the laundry house — using about 10 washers and 15 dryers in the process.  I did an amazing amount of laundry — all in 90 minutes.  (Using more dryers than washers is just practical — small loads dry faster and more completely).  Boy, was I happy that the Navy didn’t charge you to use the washers or dryers.

I continued in this fashion until an unfortunate incident in the laundry house one afternoon.  After that, I was scared to be in there, especially by myself, and developed an aversion/fear of laundry.  So, sadly, to this day, gone is my idealistic and heavily (happily) regimented laundry protocol.  What has replaced it?

I now put in the liquid detergent into the cold water, cram in the clothes, set the cycle to “regular,” and let the machine do its thing while I run away.  Then, sometime after it has finished, quickly pull the sodden lumps of fabric out, heave them into the dryer and set the machine to “automatic,” and again leave.  Pull out of dryer when ready to wear, or when searching for a particular item.  Maybe, if it is a new article of clothing, I will keep it separate for a few washings, just in case it decides to bleed or something.

Present day predicament: 

I stuff my clothes in the washer, per usual.  I have been super extra run-down lately and haven’t attended to my laundry in quite some time, so I really needed to do it.  Sometime in the cycle, I hear from across this house an odd noise.  I run over to the machine, and it seems to be having an epileptic fit and making a funny clacking sound.  Now, I’m familiar with the “unbalanced” noises, and this is not it.  It appears to be having the dry heaves trying to run, and failing miserably.  I’m not sure what’s going on, and my washer’s only a couple of years old, so there’s no reason to think that it’s dying.  So, I try stopping it and restarting it — same thing.  I change the cycle from “regular” to “permanent press” — same thing.  I see that there’s a ton of water in the basin, and think that maybe if I can get the water to drain, I can stick these clothes in the dryer, then see if I can figure out what’s wrong with the washer.  I go to put it on the “spin” cycle.  Nothing.  No sound, no movement, no recognition of any type that I have given it a command to be followed.  Irritating thing, really.  I then try to go back to the other stages of the cycle, where at least it was making some hiccuping attempts at functioning.  Nothing.  Great, now what?

What does anyone do in these cases?

Picks up cell phone, “Mom?”

Unfortunately, Mom doesn’t know what to do either, and suggests that I might have to call someone out to look at the machine.  She also suggests looking to see if I had blown a fuse.  I’m like, “What?  I don’t even know where the fuses are on this darned thing.”  She meant for me to look to see if my washer had, in the course of its spasming, popped one of my circuit breakers for the house, and this was why it wasn’t responding.  Sound advice.  I take a look, and it seems that maybe, maybe one of them isn’t quite as “on” as the others.  However, I also note that the light for the laundry room and the light for the dryer are functioning perfectly well, so a lack of power to the room can NOT be the problem.  I have electricity.

I hang up and decide to remove the clothes from the basin of water.  Hence, the title of this blog entry.  As I am doing this, I notice that clothes appear to be choking the poor machine at the base of the agitator.  No wonder it’s dying!  Poor thing can’t breathe, they are squeezing so hard.  It takes much pulling and tugging to try and free the agitator from the homicidal jeans and towels, but after I climbed in the machine myself and went to battle, I eventually won.  I left a couple of T-shirts in the washer and tried running the machine.  Success!

While the newly liberated machine is happily chugging away with its reduced load, I — in my soaked-with-water-dripping-off-me condition — turn my attention to the circuit panel.  I was going to take a look at that one breaker which had appeared to be not quite as on as it could have been.  As I am reaching up, water literally running in rivulets down my arms, I pause and think about this for a minute — and decide that I really don’t want to be electrocuted today, and retreat.

Update — an hour and a half later:  And THEN….  the dryer dies.

Update #2:  What was it that I was saying about electrocution?  Since I can’t leave well enough alone, I decided to take another look at the dryer.  It has been another couple hours, maybe it is now ready to cooperate and decide to work.  Maybe the non-workingness was just…a fluke.  So, I go to start it up, and for the first several hundred nanoseconds, I am excited, because it is making sounds like the motor is trying to start and get this puppy going.  THEN… a large arc races brightly across the 2 feet of instrument paneling.  My hand is still on the controls.  I should have been zapped pretty hard — but I wasn’t.  After yanking my hand back, I reach over to it again to turn the controls to “off,” or as close to “off,” as I can approximate.  I smell that burnt electrical smell and unplug the dryer from the wall.  Then, I try to take all the things that would be potential fire hazards away from the immediate vicinity of the dryer.  Now, I will wait and see.  It should be okay; however, sometimes these electrical things can smolder for days, and I wouldn’t want to go to work tomorrow and come home to find that the house had burned down.  Pray for me.