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Brother Released
Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogethery, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.
-- Lord Byron
Sunday, December 5, 1999
One year ago: Vanguard
Two years ago: Under the Viaduct
Saturday morning, I decided to get some laundry done. This isn't the optimal time to do it, since everyone else has the same idea! I was puzzled by one load of someone else's laundry. (I folded it to get it out of the way.) There were several sets of unusually narrow flannel sheets, and some small flannel clothes, square, with slits from the center to one side. When I was down in the laundry room a bit later on, another resident came in to do laundry. When she said she was a massage therapist, I realized that those sheets and cloths must belong to her, to be used on the massage table! She confirmed that that was the case, and thanked me for folding her stuff. (I'd put it in the dryer, too, since she'd left three quarters sitting on the washer in a touching show of trust.)
When I came downstairs later, another woman was just getting a load started in one of the washers. She then left. I began folding some of my dry things, and the massage therapist arrived to deal with her stuff. She said, "Do you smell that bad electrical, rubber smell?" I didn't smell it at first, but in a minute I knew what she meant.
Then we started hearing a high-pitched sqealing noise. "Turn off your washer!" I said. I thought that it was her laundry, spinning at the end of its cycle, that was causing the problem. She opened the door on top and the drum stopped spinning, but the noise continued. We even unplugged the washer! It took a shamefully long time for us to figure it out -- it was the other washer! The woman who had disappeared when I came in had stuffed the machine with a large comforter or sleeping bag, and had completely overloaded it. The noise went away when we stopped the second washer, so I went to find the miscreant while my laundry buddy called the washing machine maintenance company on her cell phone.
The troublemaker promised not to overload the washer again, and lifted her soaked sleeping bag out and drained it in the washtub. "I've always been able to wash this in a regular-sized washer before," she said in a plaintive tone. I don't know if I believe that, though! (She wasn't a building resident, but a caregiver for an elderly woman on the top floor.)
* * * * * * * *
In between excursions downstairs (and it's these interruptions that make doing laundry a bit of an annoyance) I got several collect calls from my brother K----, now moved from the Sand Point facility to the downtown King County Jail. (He'd been arrested Friday afternoon -- caught up in a WTC demonstration by accident.) He gave me a bonding company to call, but the woman said that if he was going to court today, he had to wait until after that. Finally I got a call midafternoon: K---- was home, all charges had been dropped. And would I bring over the gardening books I'd said I would pass on to him?
Well, I was really out of excuses. My car was nearby. It was still light out. I didn't have anywhere else I had to be. It wasn't raining (a rare occurrence in Seattle at this time of year!). So I schlepped two large boxes of gardening books out to the car and drove the few blocks to my brother's place. He came down to get them, still in his work clothes from Friday. These books will be useful to him, I think! He's working for a landscape company, and has tried to study horticulture before. It was weird seeing him! But he seemed healthy except for the bandage on one cheekbone (from a cop's riotstick) and gave me a hug before I left. I sent this story to my Declutter mailing list as "WTO-related Decluttering."
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I had a grand time at Vanguard. I arrived early enough so that I got a chance to talk to Kate. She's been coming to Vanguard early and leaving early since her granddaughter has been living with her. Her spouse Glenn brought chocolate chip cookies, which he makes very well. I haven't had them for a while; I think he brought some to my mock going-away lunch in August.
I stayed late, until one o'clock or so. I ended up giving two women a ride home to Capitol Hill.
* * * * * * * *
I spent a quiet day today, finishing up this December design. Jack called me from Yakima. He's taken his daughter A---- to a treatment facility there. He'd known that he'd have to stay around for the first few nights, but he hadn't realized that they'd be keeping him busy with interviews, meetings, and so on. This sounds to me like they are doing the right stuff.
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