The water is actually turned on (for once.) I’m getting ready to leave on vacation. Sounds like a perfect storm … for LAUNDRY DAY.


I used to hate laundry day because I hated folding. Now I hate laundry day because it entails spending all morning bent over a bucket scrubbing dirt out of your clothes by hand until your knuckles bleed, then continuing the getting-yourself-soaking-wet process by carrying them out to and hanging them on a line while they’re still dripping so that they dry without wrinkles. And THEN the folding. Although I really have no right to complain – at least I don’t have to haul my own water, and at the end of it all I smell slightly less than usual.

My three-bucket system: one for soaping, one for rinsing, one for rinsing better.

Everyone in my apartment place has to share limited line space, so some of this is my neighbor’s. Her items include loose-fitting trousers and a tasteful African dress in a traditional print. Mine include pajama pants that say “I [Heart] NY” all over them and a hot pink bra. Oops. Also: that red leso is my “door” when I’m at home because it allows a little more airflow and takes the internal temperature of my house from eleven million degrees to a much more pleasant eight million degrees. One of the best parts about laundry day is how any breeze coming through the front of the house smells like clean, wet clothing. It really is the little things that make a difference.