know what I mean?

For the time spent washing a stainless steel pan which has recently been used to poach eggs, I could write a chapter.








For that spent untangling two large sets of Christmas tree lights, I could write a book.






And for that spent sorting out three months' worth of similar but assorted socks from the wash, I could write a trilogy....

Lest this should sound wimpish, I am referring to millions of black ankle socks, with varying lengths of ribbed tops and worn-ness at the ankles.  Any sensible person, of course, would sort these out as soon as they come out of the wash.  Alas it's all too easy for them to accumulate and, because it's easier to match them in broad daylight, there's always the agonising choice of whether to go out and enjoy such daylight or stay at home reuniting socks.

Hmm.

Jane