On jeans and the drying thereof

So I only have one pair of jeans; well, that's not entirely true--I have additional pairs, but they don't fit me as well, hugging my legs like those narrow-fit monstrosities that Elvis Costello used to wear during the '80s. Yeah, ergo, one pair.

Having only one pair of jeans causes a small logistical problem when that single pair gets dirty (as they did yeterday, when I sat on the riverbank communing with our resident ducks)--what do I wear when the pair is being washed? Oh, sure, it's easy enough when I'm teaching, since I have other, more dressy options. But on a day like today, when I want to be casual, easy-going, lighthearted? No, a nice pair of trousers simply won't do, even a pair of slightly-more-casual, suburban-borne, annonymizing Dockers (or a variant thereof). I want jeans, dang it all to heck.

Wait, you say. Why is it such a problem? Just wash 'em, pop 'em in the dryer, and you'll have a fresh pair of jeans in--what?--thirty minutes? An hour, at most? Ah, but it's not that easy. See, dryers have long been my mortal enemies; they take a perfectly fitting garment and render it into D.I. fodder, shrinking it beyond any level of recognition or comfort. So I don't dry my jeans. I want to keep wearing them for longer than a month.

So I usually leave the jeans draped over a wooden chair for them to air-dry. Lately, I've found that the drying goes much quicker if I leave the chair on the balcony, where the dry Utah air can circulate. Plus, we've been having hot weather. Hot weather + dry air = quick drying.

But today wasn't hot, and there wasn't much of a breeze. I was frustrated, since I wanted to wear those sopping-wet jeans; that is, I was frustrated until I had an idea.

"Melanie," said I, "how long would it take those jeans to dry if I held them out the window of a speeding car?"

"I don't know," she said, looking up from her omnipresent book. See, that's what a great wife Melanie is--whereas other people would say something like, "Don't know, don't care, don't want anything to do with it," Mel actually considers the idea.

"If I held onto 'em, would you drive?" I asked.

"Sure," Mel said, and we boarded the Cherry Bomb.

I wanted to try the experiment at freeway speeds, but Mel--wisely--thought that may attract unwanted attention. So, instead, we drove around our neighborhood, occasionally waving at members of our ward who were furrowing their collective brows at us. ("That's one way to avoid using a dryer," one woman called after us; yes, dear, that's right...) When we returned home, the jeans were pretty much dry; oh, sure, there were a few damp spots, mainly where there are multiple layers of fabric, but I think I can wear 'em. Here's the data for anybody wishing to repeat our experiment:

Time spent driving: 9 minutes
Average velocity: 25 mph
Distance jeans were held away from car: Approx. 5 inches (enough to avoid contact with dirty car exterior)
Jean fabric: Cotton
Dryness quotient: 85%

Now, I realize that several factors could distort these results. The day's temperature, of course, could modify results, as could the relative humidity. Greater velocity could certainly speed--or, conversely, slow--things up. And the jeans had been drying for a little bit before we took to the road. (I'd love to try this experiment with fresh-out-of-the-washer jeans while driving down I-80 past the Bonneville Salt Flats at 100mph; I'd bet that I could shave a few minutes off of the drying time.)

Plan for the weekend

Yes, this is the last post for the day because I need to get to work. I've actually decided to use our blog as a family journal. Every few months we'll print off our posts and put them into a three ring binder. That way I won't feel guilty for my lack of consistent journal writing.

This weekend we plan to (1) take a brisk walk to stretch out Jeff's tendons which have shrunk and caused him a lot of pain since he broke his leg and (2) learn how to use the pressure cooker I bought two years ago. This will help with the beans and rice emergency preparedness plan. Sounds like fun!!

By the way, I was quoted in the West Valley Journal yesterday in an article about our Mexican children's art collection at the library. Apparently I am a Service Libirian at Hunter Library (where's the spell check editor guys?) Should be Youth Services Librarian. I should just introduce myself as a children's librarian and things would go a lot smoother. I guess at least they got my name right. A few years ago our publicity person, Tauni Everett, was referred to as Tuna Everett in a newspaper article.

More thoughts on marriage

You know how when you go to a wedding or a bridal shower you are sometimes asked to write down some marriage advice to the new couple? I never know what to say, really, but I do have an observation which might prove useful. As I've told my sister, Ashley, in the past while lecturing her...."I've learned a thing or two in my time..."

Everyone is a lot happier (both the husband and the wife) when certain personal staple foods items are always available at home. With Jeff, I've learned that this means: skim milk, bread, orange juice, and cereal (all breakfast foods), and protein bars (for his hypoglycemia). For me it would be cheese. Our mutual necessity foods are black beans, rice, and tortillas.

If you are aware of your personal staple foods and are both dilligent in making sure they are always available, then even if there is no time for a nice meal, both of you can scrounge up your own concoction.

Perhaps this seems obvious to everyone else, but it's taken me awhile to learn this. This has really come in handy since I've learned that while I do like to cook, meal planning absolutely stresses me out.

By the way, Jeff and I have decided that the majority of our food storage will consist of white rice and black beans. I can see it now...in the event of an emergency, everyone else will be scrambling to figure out how to grind wheat and incorporate lima beans into a meal, and we, in contrast, will be living it up with our rice and beans. As you can see, our missions have helped us prepare for life in many unexpected ways.

Not off to a great start today

Sometimes if Jeff is running late to work/school I'll help him out by pouring him some cereal and milk in a bowl and getting out a packet of his wowwy-kapowwy-can't-live-without-them-vitamins. In marriage it's the little things that matter the most. :O)

That said, I tried to help Jeff this morning by getting him some cereal. The only problem was that when I went to set the bowl on the table half the milk went sloshing over the sides onto the table, chair, and floor. So I very patiently walked back to the kitchen and refilled the bowl with milk and headed back to the table and then proceeded to spill the milk yet again. Jeff, of course, being the wonderful husband that he is asked, "Mel, are you okay today?" and I just started laughing hysterically. I tried to clean off the chair, but I guess not well enough since Jeff bolted up just as soon as he sat down. So he sat in another chair for the rest of the meal while I stood on paper towels I'd spread out across the carpet to soak up the spills.

Now, in my defense, our bowls are very shallow. They are the kind of bowls that only very rich people would use and only then because they employ a butler and/or a maid who have very good balance and/or coordination. In short, they are not very suited to normal everyday people such as myself. So for those of you who are contemplating buying new dishes, make sure that you know the depth of the bowls.