Picking my battles

Laundry day around here consists of wide scale search and rescue missions for socks down the side of the beds and the like.  The few clothes that actually made it into a hamper still get dumped out for resorting:  despite being assured by my children's teachers that they are proficient readers, I am the only one in this household that appears to be capable of reading a laundry label.  So, I'm giving up.  Well, I'm lowering my expectations, anyway.  The offspring are now getting their own laundry bags, to fill willy-nilly,  
modeled on a peg bag that my mum used to have -
with snaps for easy emptying.  
I might still dream that one day they will be able to tell 'warm' from 'cold', but for now I'll settle for the all the clothes actually making it into a bag. 

Two days to go until I can start decorating for Christmas!  I'm sure that when my husband said 'not until after Thanksgiving' he meant 'after breakfast on Thanksgiving Day', don't you?  I need SOMETHING to get me into the right frame of mind for Christmas present shopping - the local weather certainly isn't helping.  Shorts weather in November is wreacking havoc on my circadian rhythm, yet I'm getting no sympathy from my friends back home...