The Passage of Time and Laundry ... There is no such thing as time, only change.

folding laundry yesterday, i went all CSI all over my now clean duds, methodically folding it as if i was reconstructing some kind of crime scene.

it reminded me of something i had written years back, thoughts on the same, and my constant reminder EVERY TIME I DO THE WASH, all these years and years, what my life is comprised of, once the dirty work is done.

you know the drill, the clothes of a single woman, the clothes of a married woman, the clothes of a married woman with children, the clothes of that same woman now unmarried with children, the clothes of … rinse and repeat, the story has changed multiple times.

the first piece was written in july of 2003 and the second piece, last night definitely a comparing and contrasting look at how things change in eight years of living, loving learning.

07/2003 … the logistics (and quite actually fun!) of finally doing the laundry: the washer is broke and so we trekked to the ‘mat. there were lots and lots of towels and one white terry cloth bathroom (stolen from a hotel last year ... everyone has one of those ... which you feel is so "naughty" but if you check your debit card/hotel receipt, the price of the robe was deducted, plus this was not “officially” stolen, since at checkout i told them i wanted to purchase it), socks, shorts and t-shirts. no clothes under a female size 10 or male 36. somehow, a winter headband was in the mix, which was funny because the current temperature outside was still well over 90. however, we found a nicer laundromat on the other side of town that was cool in contrast to the beastly hot nature of all the machines. it took three washers x 1.25, a liberal amount of soap, bleach and intermittent use of the stain spray on some of our hiking duds. while the new laundromat is slightly more comfortable, temperature-wise, it still sported hard back chairs, limited reading material and was blasting cruddy music. we would have gone broke on the snack machines. instead we trekked to the mcdonald's for healthy fare and refillable fountain drinks, books under our arms, sexton bio and electronics, respectively. for some reason the mcdonalds was playing amazingly good music. a quick break in our air-conditioned/unlimited fountain drink/good music/comfy booths for reading was necessary to put clothes into the dryers x2 at 1.25 a crack ... which afforded us another 50 minutes of reading time. later, folding laundry, we treated it as an anthropological/archeological event seeing what we could discover about ourselves and our habits now that we are a slightly less encumbered couple with all the children gone for the summer, most permanently, the youngest temporarily. we came to the conclusion that terry was the bulk of it, our clothes are that of minimalists we lost some socks and our new stain spray, while dollar-discount, packed the appropriate punch.



versus yesterday (pictured above) now/04/29/2010: there are still three people in the house, but all of us (myself, mark and ali) do our own laundry and so the archeological dig now is “all about me” and my duds, my current life, and so what does it reveal besides the fact that i am no longer a woman’s size 10 and it appears that all my “hiking” is solely done indoors on machines.

LtoRight, i can tell you this, i sleep, better than i have in years. this has taken some doing, some real lifestyle changes, medication tweaks for my brain weirdness, exercise and eating right. judging by the pj pile you can tell it is spring, but nights are still cool because it’s all long johnny or long-sleeved. sitting atop the pj pile are two pairs of arthritis gloves for my sore thumb joints, the one and only reason now where i may occasionally not get the best sleep, but what’s not in the picture (Lidoderm patches and an occasional Vicodin with Tylenol) helps.

Mid-section of the pile … it’s all about my midsection and feeds into why lots of things are better and why i sleep perchance to dream ... workout clothes (yoga pants and hoodies), and to the right of that a sweater, proof that it got cold this week. atop that some of the socks i wore and proof that my favorite brassiere color of late is decidedly red.

far right, proof that i’ve showered and washed my hair several times, eaten dinner and prepared meals because the placemats, the cloth napkins and the kitchen towels always end up in my pile of laundry.

life is settled, methodical, scheduled and less overwhelming. i’ve worked out and i've worked hard. folding laundry remains a calming and revealing thing. this time, all about me, at 48, sleeping relatively well, working out and getting what i need and washing my hair (and any stress away) that i haven’t already cooked away in the kitchen.

Me.