An adventure in itself - packing. The perfect op for a sort-out and interesting discoveries.
The 'lost world' of the airing cupboard has revealed one pair of knickers and three odd socks. Odd in the sense that they've lost their partners, rather than them being bizaare.
I'm wondering if 'Odd sock' syndrome is the true indicator of our decadent western life style. It's certainly an enduring problem. When did it begin exactly, this overly abundant, luxuriant supply of socks, that has lead to the callous indifference towards the individual? One sock goes astray leaving the other condemned to life, unloved, in the dark of the airing cupboard - sometimes for years.
'Odd sock' syndrome was something that annoyed my uncle. He was one of those brilliantly brained, ( in his case, a rocket scientist who worked for the British government) not mad, but certainly a charismatic individual, who I adored and who could be perplexed by the intricacies of domestic life.
He'd be somewhere or other during the week and returned home at the weekends. Every time we visited, the house seemed to have become an extension of his lab. I think my aunt found solace in the W.I. However on one occasion, things went too far. They lived in a five storey house in Henley- a nice expensive property by the river. My aunt finally lost it, when she returned from a shopping excursion to find my uncle had cut large holes in each of the floors, so that he could do a velocity experiment for his latest 'drop test' theory!
Despite his wizardry with things scientific, my uncle could never understand how a pair of socks could be put into the washing machine and at the end of the cycle, only one came out. This was researched in some detail, with the holes in the floor doubling up for a 'washing socks' experiment, which also involved two washing machines being placed in the drive, with their cables neatly threaded back through the letter box into the house where they were plugged in and turned on. Unlike his rockets the sock experiment was a disaster.
In the end for his peace of mind, my own and everyone else's, I gave him a sock holder for the washing machine, in the shape of two feet - left and right. Each sock was poked through a hole which held it in place while being pummeled, rinsed and spun. Between them, the feet could take five pairs of socks. Never a sock was lost in that household ever again.
A remarkably cheap solution in comparison to the repair costs for the floors.
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