Don't wear white...

So, I've been doing laundry this week, embarrassed into it by my husband's commando comment on his blog. And as I chuff the clothes in the washer and haul them to the kitchen table to fold, I've noticed we really don't have a lot of whites. (Besides the much whined about underwear...)

Here's a tip, if you come to visit the Farmer's Wife: Don't wear white. It will come here white...glowing, fresh and crisp...and it will leave here a little, um, mottled or pinkish or tannish.

Here's the reason: If my kids like you, they will swarm you, and whatever unknown substances that are attached to them will transfer to you. AND we may have to hop on the four wheeler for an impromptu bovine relocation assignment. Whatever is on the four wheeler will transfer to you, as well as whatever flies up from the wheels. AND when we get home, we'll dutifully squirt the white article of clothing with Spray and Wash, and launder it, but because of rust in the water, it will acquire a different sort of finish. That tannish thing I was talking about.

It occurred to me that you could probably place the location of someone's home in Garfield County by the color of thier"whites"....I'm thinking within 10 miles, at least. At Big Dry School, there was a lot of coal in the water, so the whites were gray. There are places the water comes out of the faucet a delicate shade of orange, and those whites are yellowish. Here at my house, you can't see the rust, because we were told it's "ionic", but it will turn things tan OR, my personal favorite, mottled. (Resembles the giraffe print on my handbag. Nice, huh?)

This has been a public service announcement. (My posts are dramatically shortened when the kids wake up and Wayland comes back from the barn...)