My mom reports that when I was a little tot and I was about to be punished, I used to call for my hero: "Help me, Popeye, HELP ME!" Alas, Popeye the Sailor Man would never appear. He did, however, manage to save my bacon a few times by making my mom laugh so hard she forgot to mete out the punishment. (whew)
These days I don't call on Popeye for backup. But, oh, there are times when I wish I could call on somebody to help me with the one household chore I truly dread: the dishes. I don't really mind doing laundry (thus the epithet), making the bed is no big deal, cleaning up around the computer -- um -- doesn't get done often enough, but these things are mere child's play compared to the dread I feel at the thought of doing dishes.
I really shouldn't complain, I know that. At least here I have a dishwasher. In days of yore, when we lived in apartments with tiny galley kitchens, or in WWII-era houses where the architect seemed to have said, "I can't shake the feeling I've forgotten something... oh yeah; well, we could just expand this closet," I was the dishwasher. All I have to do here is load and unload, and load and unload, and load and unload, and load and unload, ad infinitum. And there lies the trouble -- laundry and other chores come and go, but dishes are FOREVER. It's like working on a never-ending assembly line. Get one load finished, and there's another load waiting to be done; get behind on them, even a little bit, and they swallow you alive. HELP ME, SCULLERY FAIRIES!
Friday, September 29, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I have a confession to make
Any other Secret Fairies feeling a certain amount of performance anxiety? I probably shouldn't be all that concerned, but I don't know very much about the person whose secret fairy I am, which makes it difficult to know what will be well-received. I guess I'm afraid I'll put together a package full of stupid.
Suggestions?
Suggestions?
Scattered thoughts on the Helper Fae
(A quick aside to put in a completely unpaid shill: I am really, really enjoying Pandora. If you're in the U.S., you should give it a try. It's an Internet radio station that chooses songs tailored to your own musical preferences. The more songs you tell it about, the more it will attune itself to the music you like -- not based on individual bands or songs, but on the separate melodic and other elements of each song you like. It's fascinating and it seems to work quite well.)
Right then. *puts on fairy spectacles* It's time for a bit of lore and wisdom regarding the Helper Fae, a class of fairy beings to which a Laundry Faerie certainly belongs.
As long as there have been human beings, there have also been certain members of the Fair Folk who have taken a particularly keen interest in their doings. Of course, their connection to the human world varies a great deal -- from those who take particularly fetching humans into the fairy realm as their lovers, to those who steal away human children and replace them with changeling babies -- and a very few fae who, for the sake of love, give up their immortal existence to join the human race. A certain number of disparate fae, however, have an interest in humanity that is more kindly than obsessive. These beings -- who often live cheek by jowl with humans and usually aid them -- are herein referred to as the Helper Fae.
Insofar as most human beings are aware of fairies at all, it is probably through tales and legends of the Helper Fae who have made their presence known over the years. Most of the Western world has heard the childhood tale of the Shoemaker and the Elves, and many children grow up with the knowledge that if they put their baby teeth under their pillows, the Tooth Fairy will exchange the teeth for money or treats. Resident brownies were known to help around English country houses and farms, if they were properly cared for. Likewise, in Sweden, a farmer will bless his good luck if he inherits a farm with a resident tomte (or, in Norway, his close kinsman the nisse), and will just as likely curse his luck if he fails to put out a bowl of porridge for his red-capped neighbor. Likewise, in Hawai'i, the menehune -- tiny master builders who can complete massive projects in a single night -- are just as likely to be mischievous as helpful, and it is unwise to provoke them to anger. There are, of course, many other Helper Fae whose names and functions are not known to the mass of human beings, but all tend to have a few things in common: they like to reward humans with a strong work ethic and a love of vocation, they like to have their work acknowledged (usually with a favorite food or a small treat), and they are extremely dangerous when crossed.
It may seem unusual to hear the phrases "Fair Folk" and "work ethic" in the same sentence; to humans, most of what they know of the Fae suggest that they are carefree (not to say careless) beings concerned primarily with play -- which can certainly be the case. But immortal beings, just like mortals, can become bored and restless with the status quo. As the more ancient fairies begin to tire of the constant intrigues of the Seelie Court and seek out more interesting pursuits, perchance their eyes may light upon the brief-lived humans. As they study these beings and recognize the harshness and swiftness of their lives, these fae may begin to experience a sense of pity or empathy for human beings -- especially in situations where individual humans "sing behind the plow," or show a distinct pride in their work. In such situations, fae often quietly insinuate themselves into the mortal world to assist human beings by being industrious.
Helper Fae, even the ones most friendly to humans, usually operate from a sense of noblesse oblige -- after all, they are immortal beings that, out of their sense of goodness and fair play, condescend to assist mortal humans. As such, they expect -- and, in some cases, demand -- respect and recognition for their efforts. Realizing that human beings cannot offer the lush delights of Faery, the Helper Fae usually require tribute of a more humble sort, the kind even a relatively impoverished human being can provide -- a bowl of milk for the fairies or butter for the elves, a bowl of hot porridge for the farm tomte, even a token tooth from a child. Offerings such as these allow humans to show that they have noticed and appreciate the efforts of the Helper Fae; they also help to encourage future assistance from these beings. In cases where human families are open with their gratitude, Helper Fae have been known to become exceptionally loyal to their families; one particular tomte actually emigrated from Sweden to America to continue to be near "his" family.
If Helper Fae are fiercely loyal when well-treated, they can also be furious when scorned. In Hawai'i, the menehune once began work on the Alekoko Fishpond with the understanding that no mortal would watch their progress. Despite this warning, the royal princess and her brother crept out to the work site to watch the thousands of tiny men at work, and fell asleep in the underbrush. They were eventually discovered by the menehune and turned to stone. This level of punishment among the Helper Fae is far from rare; although these fairies are fond of "their" humans, they brook neither disobedience nor disrespect from mortals.
That's all for tonight; a dryer load is calling my name.
Right then. *puts on fairy spectacles* It's time for a bit of lore and wisdom regarding the Helper Fae, a class of fairy beings to which a Laundry Faerie certainly belongs.
As long as there have been human beings, there have also been certain members of the Fair Folk who have taken a particularly keen interest in their doings. Of course, their connection to the human world varies a great deal -- from those who take particularly fetching humans into the fairy realm as their lovers, to those who steal away human children and replace them with changeling babies -- and a very few fae who, for the sake of love, give up their immortal existence to join the human race. A certain number of disparate fae, however, have an interest in humanity that is more kindly than obsessive. These beings -- who often live cheek by jowl with humans and usually aid them -- are herein referred to as the Helper Fae.
Insofar as most human beings are aware of fairies at all, it is probably through tales and legends of the Helper Fae who have made their presence known over the years. Most of the Western world has heard the childhood tale of the Shoemaker and the Elves, and many children grow up with the knowledge that if they put their baby teeth under their pillows, the Tooth Fairy will exchange the teeth for money or treats. Resident brownies were known to help around English country houses and farms, if they were properly cared for. Likewise, in Sweden, a farmer will bless his good luck if he inherits a farm with a resident tomte (or, in Norway, his close kinsman the nisse), and will just as likely curse his luck if he fails to put out a bowl of porridge for his red-capped neighbor. Likewise, in Hawai'i, the menehune -- tiny master builders who can complete massive projects in a single night -- are just as likely to be mischievous as helpful, and it is unwise to provoke them to anger. There are, of course, many other Helper Fae whose names and functions are not known to the mass of human beings, but all tend to have a few things in common: they like to reward humans with a strong work ethic and a love of vocation, they like to have their work acknowledged (usually with a favorite food or a small treat), and they are extremely dangerous when crossed.
It may seem unusual to hear the phrases "Fair Folk" and "work ethic" in the same sentence; to humans, most of what they know of the Fae suggest that they are carefree (not to say careless) beings concerned primarily with play -- which can certainly be the case. But immortal beings, just like mortals, can become bored and restless with the status quo. As the more ancient fairies begin to tire of the constant intrigues of the Seelie Court and seek out more interesting pursuits, perchance their eyes may light upon the brief-lived humans. As they study these beings and recognize the harshness and swiftness of their lives, these fae may begin to experience a sense of pity or empathy for human beings -- especially in situations where individual humans "sing behind the plow," or show a distinct pride in their work. In such situations, fae often quietly insinuate themselves into the mortal world to assist human beings by being industrious.
Helper Fae, even the ones most friendly to humans, usually operate from a sense of noblesse oblige -- after all, they are immortal beings that, out of their sense of goodness and fair play, condescend to assist mortal humans. As such, they expect -- and, in some cases, demand -- respect and recognition for their efforts. Realizing that human beings cannot offer the lush delights of Faery, the Helper Fae usually require tribute of a more humble sort, the kind even a relatively impoverished human being can provide -- a bowl of milk for the fairies or butter for the elves, a bowl of hot porridge for the farm tomte, even a token tooth from a child. Offerings such as these allow humans to show that they have noticed and appreciate the efforts of the Helper Fae; they also help to encourage future assistance from these beings. In cases where human families are open with their gratitude, Helper Fae have been known to become exceptionally loyal to their families; one particular tomte actually emigrated from Sweden to America to continue to be near "his" family.
If Helper Fae are fiercely loyal when well-treated, they can also be furious when scorned. In Hawai'i, the menehune once began work on the Alekoko Fishpond with the understanding that no mortal would watch their progress. Despite this warning, the royal princess and her brother crept out to the work site to watch the thousands of tiny men at work, and fell asleep in the underbrush. They were eventually discovered by the menehune and turned to stone. This level of punishment among the Helper Fae is far from rare; although these fairies are fond of "their" humans, they brook neither disobedience nor disrespect from mortals.
That's all for tonight; a dryer load is calling my name.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Five Random Facts
(beware, intrepid sailors, Wikipedia shoals ahead!)
It struck me today (ow) that since I've just started this blog, it might be useful to random readers if I were to add some context. So, to that end, five more or less random facts about the Laundry Faerie:
1. I've lived all my life (so far) in the western United States. I was born in the East Bay Area of California, moved to Provo, Utah when I was thirteen, my husband and I moved again to the Puget Sound area of Washington a few years after we were married, then a two-year stint back in Utah, and at the moment we're ensconced in the southern Willamette Valley of western Oregon. Though I've visited or driven through many American states and have wandered into British Columbia a time or two, I've never lived further east than the Wasatch Front. So far my favorite place to live is the Seattle area, and I anticipate our return there with bated breath. [NOTE: As of March 2007, we have returned to the Puget Sound. --Soozcat]
2. Your charming and talented hostess is a Latter-day Saint (aka Mormon). There seems to be quite a bit of confusion about Mormons out on the net; we are neither Amish nor Old Order Mennonites (though I have great respect for both groups), nor, for that matter, any of the polygamous sects (um, ew). In fact, going by sight alone, it would probably be difficult to pick a Mormon out of a crowd of people. We are avowed Christians, we don't smoke or drink, and we abstain from coffee and tea -- although I do enjoy good herbal teas/tisanes.
3. As is often the case with Mormons, I come from a large family. I am the oldest of six children -- two boys, four girls -- and I think all my siblings are rare and fantastic people. So is my mother, who raised us as a mostly single parent; my father died in a car accident when I was twelve. If these people weren't my family members, they would still be friends.
4. I met my husband on a BBS in the early 1990s. Yes, I really am that geeky.
5. As I like to joke, "I'm not an artist, but I play one on TV." (Anyone else remember those old Bayer aspirin ads with Robert "I'm Not a Doctor" Young? I'm still looking for a YouTube link.) My late father was a graphic designer, and all of my siblings are either artists or like to pretend they're artists. You may place me squarely in the "pretender" column, since I really don't know what I'm doing. I mostly dink around with origami and paper cutouts.
Bla bla bla, talk about yourself again ... that should suffice for now, don't you think?
It struck me today (ow) that since I've just started this blog, it might be useful to random readers if I were to add some context. So, to that end, five more or less random facts about the Laundry Faerie:
1. I've lived all my life (so far) in the western United States. I was born in the East Bay Area of California, moved to Provo, Utah when I was thirteen, my husband and I moved again to the Puget Sound area of Washington a few years after we were married, then a two-year stint back in Utah, and at the moment we're ensconced in the southern Willamette Valley of western Oregon. Though I've visited or driven through many American states and have wandered into British Columbia a time or two, I've never lived further east than the Wasatch Front. So far my favorite place to live is the Seattle area, and I anticipate our return there with bated breath. [NOTE: As of March 2007, we have returned to the Puget Sound. --Soozcat]
2. Your charming and talented hostess is a Latter-day Saint (aka Mormon). There seems to be quite a bit of confusion about Mormons out on the net; we are neither Amish nor Old Order Mennonites (though I have great respect for both groups), nor, for that matter, any of the polygamous sects (um, ew). In fact, going by sight alone, it would probably be difficult to pick a Mormon out of a crowd of people. We are avowed Christians, we don't smoke or drink, and we abstain from coffee and tea -- although I do enjoy good herbal teas/tisanes.
3. As is often the case with Mormons, I come from a large family. I am the oldest of six children -- two boys, four girls -- and I think all my siblings are rare and fantastic people. So is my mother, who raised us as a mostly single parent; my father died in a car accident when I was twelve. If these people weren't my family members, they would still be friends.
4. I met my husband on a BBS in the early 1990s. Yes, I really am that geeky.
5. As I like to joke, "I'm not an artist, but I play one on TV." (Anyone else remember those old Bayer aspirin ads with Robert "I'm Not a Doctor" Young? I'm still looking for a YouTube link.) My late father was a graphic designer, and all of my siblings are either artists or like to pretend they're artists. You may place me squarely in the "pretender" column, since I really don't know what I'm doing. I mostly dink around with origami and paper cutouts.
Bla bla bla, talk about yourself again ... that should suffice for now, don't you think?
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Want sum dim sum?
All right, good people, my latest duty (a bleach load) is in the washer, so now I feel justified in plunking down before the computer and relating to you a baleful tale of woe.
Ready?
My honey and I like foods from a number of different Asian culinary traditions. We happily scarf down bulgogi, enjoy a good spicy vindaloo, and relish a plate of maki-zushi (but, you know, not all at the same time). The city where we live offers a number of tasty dishes, but there is one area where it is woefully deficient. Yes, pity us, dear friends, for we live in a city of NO DIM SUM. Though there are several places where one can procure mediocre-to-bad Chinese food, not a single restaurant offers dim sum on the weekends. Not one. *sniff* We have been reduced to buying frozen dim sum goodies at a local Asian market and steaming or baking them ourselves. At least we have that much, but it's just not the same.
I have decided to take matters into my own hands and start the ADSLLC: the Amalgamated Dim Sum Lovers of Lane County. Together we shall take on the noble work of bringing dim sum to the masses! Who's with me?
Ready?
My honey and I like foods from a number of different Asian culinary traditions. We happily scarf down bulgogi, enjoy a good spicy vindaloo, and relish a plate of maki-zushi (but, you know, not all at the same time). The city where we live offers a number of tasty dishes, but there is one area where it is woefully deficient. Yes, pity us, dear friends, for we live in a city of NO DIM SUM. Though there are several places where one can procure mediocre-to-bad Chinese food, not a single restaurant offers dim sum on the weekends. Not one. *sniff* We have been reduced to buying frozen dim sum goodies at a local Asian market and steaming or baking them ourselves. At least we have that much, but it's just not the same.
I have decided to take matters into my own hands and start the ADSLLC: the Amalgamated Dim Sum Lovers of Lane County. Together we shall take on the noble work of bringing dim sum to the masses! Who's with me?
Thursday, September 21, 2006
So what's a Laundry Faerie?
Fair question.
Once upon a time, my sister and I were discussing the peculiar housekeeping habits of another person we knew -- not that I have much room to talk; I'm a notoriously terrible housekeeper who has to fly around cleaning wildly before anybody comes to visit -- but in any case, we wondered aloud at this person's propensity to drop dirty laundry hither and yon. At the time, one of us -- I honestly can't remember which one -- said, "It's like she expects the laundry fairy to come clean up after her."
I liked that. The way I see it, if we have a Tooth Fairy to gather up lost teeth (not to mention a PMS Fairy to grant some of us cramps and bloating), we ought to have a Laundry Fairy and a Dish Fairy and a Rubbish Fairy to help with the housework. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find any of them in order to secure their services, so in the interim I continue to be our household's de facto Laundry Fairy. (Hey, for those who don't actually do the laundry, there does seem to be some sort of magic involved -- as far as they can see, it just goes into the basket and magically reappears, clean and folded, in the drawer. Ergo, Laundry Fairy.) I have amused my husband no end by mincing into the room, picking up the laundry basket, and executing a few pointy kicks and pirouettes before dancing out, all the while singing the Laundry Fairy Song.
And now you know.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Dramatis personae
Our players:
SOOZCAT
The titular Laundry Faerie, also occasionally known as The Pirate King, 56 years old. Aspiring author, eldest daughter, feisty wife, full-time auntie, and as of 2011, type 2 diabetic (bleah). Also a DS patient. Known to commit unpremeditated photo essays or entertain whimsical notions without warning. May be bribed, if the price is right or the chocolate is high-quality. Officially diagnosed with inattentive-style ADHD in early 2020, just before the pandemic struck.
CAPTAIN MIDNIGHT
Intrepid husband of Soozcat, 58 years old. Alias often shortened to CM. A balding, boyishly cute computer geek with twinkly blue eyes. ♥ Bold, goofy, romantic, long-suffering, occasionally "stern and strict" according to Miss V. As per his moniker, he is usually undaunted and knows just what to do. Currently looking for work; don't miss your chance to hire this intrepid software tester!
MISS V
Artistic, stylish, funny, fashion-and-costume-obsessed young woman. Daughter of Soozcat's youngest sister, and thus niece to Soozcat and Captain Midnight. Went to college, gathered knowledge, oh what dat goil knows! Currently at graduate school learning still more.
OTHER PLAYERS
include Soozcat's five siblings and their families, Captain Midnight's two siblings and their families, CM's parents, Soozcat's mom, and various friends and acquaintances (including but certainly not limited to Carrie, Fen, Gretel and Tara).
And of course, there is Simeon von Pumpernickel.
(This page last updated 5 November 2025).
SOOZCAT
The titular Laundry Faerie, also occasionally known as The Pirate King, 56 years old. Aspiring author, eldest daughter, feisty wife, full-time auntie, and as of 2011, type 2 diabetic (bleah). Also a DS patient. Known to commit unpremeditated photo essays or entertain whimsical notions without warning. May be bribed, if the price is right or the chocolate is high-quality. Officially diagnosed with inattentive-style ADHD in early 2020, just before the pandemic struck.
CAPTAIN MIDNIGHT
Intrepid husband of Soozcat, 58 years old. Alias often shortened to CM. A balding, boyishly cute computer geek with twinkly blue eyes. ♥ Bold, goofy, romantic, long-suffering, occasionally "stern and strict" according to Miss V. As per his moniker, he is usually undaunted and knows just what to do. Currently looking for work; don't miss your chance to hire this intrepid software tester!
MISS V
Artistic, stylish, funny, fashion-and-costume-obsessed young woman. Daughter of Soozcat's youngest sister, and thus niece to Soozcat and Captain Midnight. Went to college, gathered knowledge, oh what dat goil knows! Currently at graduate school learning still more.
OTHER PLAYERS
include Soozcat's five siblings and their families, Captain Midnight's two siblings and their families, CM's parents, Soozcat's mom, and various friends and acquaintances (including but certainly not limited to Carrie, Fen, Gretel and Tara).
And of course, there is Simeon von Pumpernickel.
(This page last updated 5 November 2025).
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