Rebecca's comment on yesterday's post confirmed my my gut instinct about it being Giuliani who spearheaded the tidy-up campaign in New York - thank you Rebecca! - and got me thinking about laundry.
Specifically:
How much I wish I didn't have chronic hayfever, so I could hang mine on a clothesline outside;
How nice cool wet cotton feels on a hot day after hours of playing in the dirt;
How bad I feel about cooling my arms and face between the folds of my mother's freshly washed and hung-on-the-clothesline sheets after said playing in the dirt;
How nice it is that I outgrew that habit and don't roam around to the neighbours' clothelines on gardening days;
How nice it is too that modern washing machines don't require the kind of family effort called for by the wringer washer, as described in Little Heathens;
How a cold snap is not such a good time to run out of wool socks, and I need to do some laundry of my own; and
How weird it is still to walk into my newly tidied laundry room and not see the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
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