washing day

9 Mar

Despite the smell, Adelaide enjoyed sorting the washing.

She liked that the washing came with several decisions each of which had potentially awkward, but not life-threatening, repurcussions: where to put her brown cotton shirt – in with the darks or with the (generally shades of light) business shirts (his not hers); virtuous cold wash or more effective hot; quilt covers or just the sheets; flannels or just the towels; was this the weekend to do her favourite cardigan?

And as she answered each question to herself (darks, cold, sheets, flannels, no) Adelaide thought of her husband’s Nan. A most beautiful, glorious, warm and giggling Nan who worked in a cannery, but shopped of a Monday, baked of a Wednesday, and on Fridays did her wash.

And didn’t that just go to show that friendships are curious, glorious things Adelaide thought as she poured the softener in.


One Response to “washing day”

  1. tut-tut November 2, 2007 at 12:18 am #


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