This morning as I was folding the clothes from the dryer (I still haven’t gotten a clothes line up) and putting the dirty clothes in the washer, I thought, there’s just no glory in laundry.
It’s not like that with some of the other chores, like cooking. There’s lots of hype around cooking. Sharing recipes, talking about ingredients, making special trips to the farmers market or Co-op to get just the right…whatever. And cooking itself can be dramatic. Knives chopping, oil splattering, ovens catching on fire, a few seconds too long in the pot and the pasta is ruined!
But laundry, the only time laundry gets mentioned is if there are no more clean socks. Put it in the washer, put it in the dryer, fold it, put it away…. for all of eternity always the same thing. I don’t mean to complain, although I am complaining I take that back. What I mean is, I know I shouldn’t complain. Compared to the way women used to wash clothes, the washer and dryer are a dream. But I never had to spend my Mondays hauling clothes down to the river and scrubbing them on rocks and I think, at least that has a sense of adventure to it, I mean, you might have to fight off a bear or a snake. On second thought, risking my life to do laundry isn’t all that appealing. But it does have a sense of glory to it.
Which takes me back to my morning musings. Maybe once upon a time, or somewhere else… but on Bedlam Farm, there’s no glory in laundry.