6
September 2014
A
Day In the Life of a Washing Machine
For
all but one to two days a week I sit in relative quite in the dank,
dark room that is the laundry room. My only visitors are the cats and
occasionally the dogs who sometimes try to steal the cat food on the
floor next to me. The other cat eats on my brother the dryer. We also
have the litter box but the fresh scent or laundry makes that
bearable. Life is pretty simple until it is laundry day. I become a
puking slave of dirty underwear and sweaty T's. Clothes get shoved in
my mouth and then a horrid tasting detergent is poured down my
gullet. On occasion it is bleach that I get. After adjusting the
clothes I get, I spit freezing water on countless pairs of socks,
pants and shirts. As I gargle and try to hold everything in, the
clothes slowly start to loosen up the dirt and grime that they had
carried for a week while waiting for me. I spin them and spin them,
puking more water on them until finally I spin them free of all the
water I gave them. This happens several times until I get a couple
days off. Every other week I have to wash sheets and those are awful!
So full of dog hair and dead skin! I have to wash the sheets with
scalding hot water to sanitize them. It is all in a days work and for
the most part I am left alone. I should really just be grateful I am
not the toilet.
7
September 2014
The
Birth of Elizabeth I
After
a long and exhausting day, I have been delivered of a child. A couple
of weeks ago I went into confinement with my ladies. We sat in a dark
room for a couple weeks of weeks with no men. My room was designed
free of designs of humans and animals so as not to disturb my unborn
child. My ladies and I sipped wine and spices as we awaited the pains
of labor. It was a pleasant rest after months of celebrations. I have
not been well in the end of pregnancy and Henry was fairly concerned
for the health of our promised son. Eventually I felt the pains and
very quickly, the babe was born. I could hear the fierce lungs of my
new child but no one was congratulating me. After the babe was
cleaned and wrapped, my lady approached and presented me with my
daughter. A daughter. She was beautiful. Strong and fiery red like
her father, my precious new daughter looked back at me with piercing
black eyes and a feeling of triumph shot through me in her stare.
Henry
was entirely displeased with the birth of a daughter. We canceled all
celebrations for a son, the coveted son I swore I had inside my belly
and the astrologers had predicted. Our coveted son was not born this
day but we named our new princess Elizabeth and Henry determined we
were young. I feel he was quite relieved that a healthy child was
born and I survived with my health as well. He knows we are young and
a son can be conceived. I cannot help but look at our new child and
think of how wonderful she is. A fierceness lies in her face that
gives me a feeling of greatness for her. There is something about her
that will change the world. Every ounce of her screams it. My
daughter will be great even though she is not the prince Henry so
deeply desired.
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