Correctamundo. But better on the "sky" than on your clean laundry.
You let the loose stuff roll off ("through the funnel" as it were) into the trash can, and then you hose off the rest. (Or, if you are feeling truly profligate, simply toss the sky into the trash bin, too, and replace it with clean sheeting.)
I s'pose you could use heavy duty plastic sheeting as the bottom layer, to support the weight of the collectings, and lay clear plastic food wrap on top to actually take the brunt of the gunk.
My grandmother has noted that some things skip a generation. She and I knit/crochet/embroider; my mother does not (she was taught how, but doesn't enjoy it). Mom sews, I know how, but I hate it.
I did sew clothes (often by hand so I wouldn't have to deal with the machine), but only until the price of patterns/decent fabric reached the point that I was paying $49 to make a dress for a special occasion and could have bought something I liked better ready-made for $50 ... wasn't worth the torture to save a whopping $1.
In another branch of the family, the grandmother and granddaughter sew, but the daughter doesn't.
I'm not sure how much of that is psychological separation from our mothers, or if it's just the different personalities coming out that I prefer the hands-on type of work to the machine type of work (I also don't like machine knitting).
Veering further afield: The "rich" kids bought their lunches; the rest of us ate whatever our moms packed. My sandwiches often had such thick slabs of whatever meat we had the night before that it took me forever to eat them. I actually envied the kids who had peanut butter and jelly.
I qualified for free school meals (Welfare State etc) but there was no subtlety when it came to the monthly collection of money; half way through lunch on the first Thursday in the month the head cook (who doubled as the head nurse, head cashier etc) came around with her accounts book and cash box. She called out the names and the amount due at each table; for those of us who got free meals she would glare at us and say "oh yes, you're one of the free ones". This lady made her own mayonnaise for the school meal salads i.e. one lettuce leaf & half a tomato; it wasn't until I joined the RAF that I discovered that mayonnaise shouldn't be swimming in vinegar nor should it bring tears to your eyes or catch the back of your throat when trying to eat it. Bruce
ROTFLMAO! You need to really see the bat-doo-doo up close, Karen! It has the consistency of melted caramel toffee. It *doesn't* 'hose off' - you have to scrape it and, believe me, the dog gets really toey when you're trying to scrape it off her back.
PS. Where do you get a piece of clear plastic sheeting about five metres square? For a reasonable price, I mean?
It might, but it's gonna look pretty off-the-wall in my rustic back garden! LOL! I'd *so* much rather lose the blessed tree and watch the bats from a distance as they shift to someone else's tree.
How true! I didn't stay at school for lunch but my SIL jokes about trading her lobster sandwiches for peanut butter and jam! She grew up 'down the Bay'...Indian Point. How times have changed!
My SILs mother comes from there but I confess I can't remember what her name was before she married. Her sisters and brother still reside in the first three or four houses to your left as you head down there, you might notice the one with the soldiers on either side of the garage. They have best part of the famous view of the churches.
Back when we were poor starving students, my roommate worked at the best steakhouse in town. Part of their reputation was that if a steak was returned to the kitchen as undercooked, they did not just throw it back on the grill, they started from scratch. If the shell of lobster or crab legs was in the least dented/cracked, it could not be served.
The head chef thought she was cute, and miraculously every night either one steak was undercooked or one shellfish was "accidentally" banged on the edge of the boiling pot so it couldn't be served. Oh, darn, he'd set it aside for her to bring home.
They were closed on Mondays, so on Sunday night, she'd come home with the contents of the salad bowl, which was not acceptable for them to serve on Tuesday, but we would happily eat it for a few days.
One night, I was on the phone with Mom and begged if she could send us some grocery money "I am SO sick of lobster, crab and steak ... but I can't afford to buy hot dogs!" She ROFL and happily sent us a few bucks, small price to pay for this wonderful story she could tell her friends!
It was years before I next ordered lobster or crab at a restaurant. There is so "too much of a good thing!"
My first home ec project (grade 7) was an apron like so many others. We had to get a yard of fabric and it had to be torn, not cut, so that it was definitely on the straight of the grain! Our second project was the sleeveless shift with the zipper down the back. One of my more clueless classmates sewed one half of her back piece to one of the pieces of the girl sharing her machine.
Alison PS we made scrambled eggs in a double boiler. Also cocoa. My mother said we were boiling water to boil water and got me out of that habit in a hurry.
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