Transport of delight

[radegund]

I wish there was an L-plate for cyclists - something that would signal to the world that I am a beginner, awkward and clueless, that I have only the crudest notion of how far my handlebars stick out (wing-mirrors beware), that I'm liable at any moment to swerve, feet flailing manically, having abruptly mislaid the pedals.

So I collected niallm's bike from the shop this morning and rode it to work. It wasn't too bad, I suppose, despite the obvious scorn and frustration I engendered in all the real cyclists who whizzed past me as I threaded my ponderous way through the traffic. (Superego? Moi?) Leg-wobble-wise, moreover, it wasn't bad at all. And I felt quite energetic on arrival, despite my ridiculous lack of sleep.

But the burnng question is: will the oil-stains that transferred themselves to my sky-blue trousers as I gripped the machine in a panic on Harcourt Street come out in the wash, or do I have to give them individual attention?

Comments

Re: Oilstains

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Oh, oh, The I Hate to Housekeep Book! I read that many times when I was in school. "How to be happy when you're absolutely miserable" - "How to look as good as the lord intended" - the spotless housekeeper, the spotted housekeeper, the random housekeeper - the mnemonic for French verbs that take être. (Stop with the babbling, Radzer.)

Ahem. Every home should have one.

Every home should have one, was Re: Oilstains

[ailbhe]

This home has two, but no I Hate to Cook Book.

I particularly like the reverse-housekeeping theory, which I have often used - particularly at Christmas, when people are coming.

Re: The I Hate to Housekeep Book

[ailbhe]

Ohh, you could! Every home should have one. IIRC, it's by Peg Bracken.

Re: The I Hate to Housekeep Book

[radegund.livejournal.com]

It's a classic. It was written at the beginning of the 1960s in America, and basically takes the piss out of the 1950s domestic ideal - lots of shortcuts and tips for fooling people into thinking you're a model housewife.

Now I'd better go and hide somewhere before anyone notices my strange addiction to housekeeping books ... particularly anyone who's seen my house :-)