full now

The Sunday before Christmas, and why leave the house at all with the rain coming down outside from that grey sky. Try to make sense of politics and check on the things that need to be done.

There is so much small detail in the day and so much to be done. Things that were put aside to be done quickly sometime end up taking hours and hours  to do.

Trying to understand the gadget on the dishwasher, the thing to allow the basket to glide into the machine, either at a high level or at a lower level. It glides in to the stainless steel cave alright, then there is a crash and it drops down to it's lower level, but on one side only.

Inspect the catches, they seem to be in order. Then see that one of the carrier arms for the metal basket is retracted to far. Pull it out a bit, then clean it a bit, there is something caugt in there,

Nasty and slimy.

Then push the basket in again, optimistic that it will work now.

It does not, the stupid thing falls again.

Pull it out again, raise it, make sure that the catch has snapped into place. Push it in carefully now.

It goes in and stays up. Test the rotor, make sure that it is rotating freely.

Go into the sons room, ask him if he happens to have any crockery, the machine is not quite full, and it seems a shame to waste part of a washing cycle. 

The son climbs up to his bed, his reclusive space. He hands down a yellow big cup.

He hands down an orange big cup.

Then a yellow small mug.

Then four cups of French china, made by Yves Deshoullieres.

Then a plate.

Then another plate.

Bring the things into the kitchen, all the hands are full.

Then two empty water bottles and a breadboard.

The dishwasher is full now.

It is still raining outside.