Thank you, Peter Pan!
Can I just say one thing here? Socks. Yes, socks. Those cushions between your feet and your shoes that generally start out in pairs and then somewhere along the way, generally after bathing, one goes AWOL. I am very fond of my socks. So fond, in fact, that unlike many people who throw away the unclaimed partners, I have an entire wing of my home dedicated to housing the widowed socks. I remain resolute in my conviction that one day, the straying spouse will return to the family home. Now, I am not talking about the leftovers from natural disasters - you know what I mean, you are just getting dressed, wearing socks but no shoes, and there is an emergency in the yard requiring your able assistance. You run outside without your shoes and come back in to discover you stepped on a pine cone and it ripped the bottom of one of the socks to shreds. No no no. I am talking about socks that fall victim to "Laundromat Syndrome" whether or not you actually do your laundry in a public place or as in my case, the garage. Two socks go into the wash but only one comes out of the dryer. Where did the other sock go? That is a mystery which has puzzled the great philosophers for years. I cannot pretend to know where exactly the missing socks go (sometimes the leg of an unfolded pant, sometimes the corner of a poorly handled bed sheet, perhaps?) but I do know that the socks eventually come back, often in the most surprising of ways. How disappointed they would be to learn their spouses had given up and moved on. And so, I save the socks.
Yesterday, I began a major clean up here in the house (six loads of laundry and counting, thank you very much) and while I was putting things into the dryer, a flash of what can only be described as brilliance came over me. Hang them up. The socks, I mean. That way, I could see exactly what was there. I do have two clotheslines in the garage, but I also have a lot of socks. Brilliant idea number two: use those hangers that are supposed to be for hanging multiple skirts or pairs of slacks, the ones with several bars on them. So I got out a few of those, a large bag of clothespins, and went to work hanging the socks, matching as best I could. Today, I was putting the socks away and yet another idea hit: leave the remaining socks on the hangers and perhaps the mates will show up in future laundry loads. Can you believe my mind? "I gotta crow..."