$msg = ""; $myaddress = "sacha" + "@" + "sachachua.com"; $page = "2007.03.15.php"; $page_title = "2007.03.15"; $page_updated = "2007-03-1610:05:0210:05:02-0400"; $maintainer = "sacha" + "@" + "sachachua.com"; require_once "include/calendar.php"; require_once "include/planner-include.php"; require_once "include/header.inc.php"; ?>
Headlines for Thursday:
|A||X||@2000 Phantom of the Opera|
|A||X||Check credit card bill from 2007.03.15|
I think I enjoy doing the laundry too much. There's something to be said about choosing one's favorite clothes out of the hamper, attracted to color or texture or purpose, anticipating the pleasure of wearing things again. As I swish each piece through the sudsy water, I get a chance to reflect on the stories my clothes have, from what happened the last time I wore them to the first time I saw them. The rhythmic motions are calming as I stretch and relax. It pleases me to hang the clothes neatly and know that they will drip-dry straight, with hardly any need for ironing... A dwindling pile of laundry makes me feel as if I'm making real progress.
And one wonders why I keep laundry as one of my personal pleasures, forgoing a night out in order to meditate in this dance of water!
Machine laundry just isn't the same. Oh, I love taking freshly-laundered linen out of the dryer and folding them while they're still warm, but my sheets and towels don't have the stories that my clothes do. I wouldn't trust most of my clothes to the machine, either. I'm afraid of running dyes and the ruin of delicate touches. I've lost a few of my favorite pieces to these things despite my precautions! Besides, hand-washing my favorite things helps me appreciate them more...
My new drying rack is metal with plastic feet, and I now have my very own bathtub for leaving it in. I've been doing laundry every other day - just enough time for each batch to dry - and I'm making steady progress through the laundry that had accumulated while I was living out of suitcases.
It gives me pleasure to take the pieces off the drying rack and fold them neatly, placing them in my drawers. I have a table-top ironing board, but I want a stand-up ironing board. If it's the right height, it may even double as a bedside desk. I'm looking forward to ironing my clothes and hanging them up. I've already assembled and hung up my outfits for the next few days. Again, the joy of anticipation!
Having my own place is turning me thoroughly domestic.
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