What’s that? I wondered as I pulled the laundry out of the washing machine. The bottom of the drum of my front loader. I reached in, thankful I no longer owned a top loader that would require me to jump up to get my hips in a position where I could lever my short self into a position where I could reach the bottom.
I pulled out green beans.
I stopped for a moment wondering how they got in the washer. I’d cooked some beans for a salad on the weekend. Had I put some in a pocket? I pulled out a few more beans. Were they on the cloth I’d set on my lap as I snapped off the ends? I reached in yet again. With each extraction I assumed I’d found them all, but every time I looked I saw more. I reached again. And again.
Somewhere between those last two forays into the drum, I had a theory about the mysterious appearance of the green beans..
After boiling and cooling the green beans, I drained them then set them on a tea towel to dry. When I was ready to assemble the salad, I shook the tea towel over the bowl containing the other ingredients. I then tossed the tea towel into the washing machine. My theory was that some of the green beans clung to the tea towel in a last desperate effort to keep from being eaten.
All those years of reading Nancy Drew certainly honed my detective skills.
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