The war was long in coming. The enemy had been conducting border raids for months, for years; these minor skirmishes saw losses on both sides, but the tension only grew with each new flurry.
Finally, at dawn yesterday morning, I struck.
The advantage of surprise was on my side. First I divided the enemy forces into three distinct groups. They were unable to communicate that way, and unable to coordinate their defense. I was able to win three big victories almost without effort. Then began the long, slow war of attrition. Hour by hour, Tide Free in hand, I beat back the enemy forces.
Late in the afternoon, they brought in new armies from their outposts to the north. I was able to beat them back, though my overall strategy took a beating. We struggled through the evening with logistical problems, particularly in provisioning hangers and empty storage boxes.
When night fell, we adopted an uneasy ceasefire.
When hostilities resumed this morning, I knew I had already won. The enemy's spirit was broken, and resistance merely a token effort. The washer and dryer went to their well-earned rest early in the afternoon, and after a lull, nearly every scrap of clothing in the house was both folded and put away.
There are still some small pockets of insurgency remaning. There is the basket of dry-cleaning, and its fresh allies, today's dirty clothes. There is a lone basket in need of folding, yet. And I have not yet begun a fresh offensive on the sock basket. That will be vicious pair-to-pair guerilla combat, and the casualties will be heavy.
But for now, I bask in the glory of victory. The war is not over. It will never be over, for eternal vigilance is the price of freedom.
My kitchen is: Sadly neglected. Fighting the good fight doesn't leave a lot of time for cooking.
Posted by andrea at March 19, 2004 10:05 PM