Burnt Socks

To extend their life, Len never (ever) puts freshly laundered socks in the dryer. In the summer he hangs them from clip-type hangers and air dries them; in the winter he drapes them over our geothermal registers.

When Len came to visit me in my sabbatical location, he washed a pair of wool socks and placed them on a heating register. When I came in from outside, my nose was assaulted — something’s burning! A quick search led me to these crispy critters. I laughed so hard my sides hurt.

Hint #5 — Log cabin manufacturers, taxidermists, and fly fishing shops are abundant in and around my sabbatical location.

Lots of things get burned in life; some intentional, some not:

  • Burnt toast — the only way I eat it.
  • Burned rubber — a quick departure.
  • Burned finger — forgot to wear the oven mitt.
  • Burned bridges — not a good plan regardless of the circumstance.
  • “I got burned” — a relationship gone up in smoke.

What was the last thing you burned?

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

Reminder, the caveat of the Looking for Laurie game stipulates: “The first person to type the accurate city and state of my sabbatical location into the comments section of the Mar 28 post will receive a personalized copy of Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth for themselves or as a gift to someone else.”