We live in one of the older apartment complexes that not only doesn’t have washers and/or dryers, but also doesn’t have any hook-ups for said washers and dryers.
It is a big production for me. At least two or three times a week, I gather up about two to three batches of clothes, walk down a flight of stairs, put the clothes in the car, drive to the laundromat, and then carry the clothes into the laundromat.
I really dislike doing the wash when the outdoor temperature is under 33 degrees. One day, I had only walked on the side-walk with ice on it (no clothes in hand). I slid and hurt my knees. I couldn’t walk without pain for a long long time.
I am not complaining . . . much.
When I was growing up, we lived far away from electricity. We had to haul in our drinking water in big barrels. I used to wash the clothes in buckets and then hang them out to dry on the lines. I could spend days handwashing and handscrubbing those clothes. At the time there were six children and two adults.
So yes, it is much easier now. However, as I stand at the top of the stairs, I carefully feel for the next step. I know that the capricious wind is going to slam into my back and I will fall thirty steps, breaking my neck.
I know. I know… I have a huge imagination.
But I go through this scenario everytime I creep down those stairs with a basket of clothes in my hands, which is why I only take two or three batches at a time.
Carrying the clothes up the stairs is not quite so nervewracking. I am only tired, not scared.
I know. I could wait for the weekend and have my husband carry the clothes down. But, he works all week. He takes care of me. This is one of the chores that I have taken on so that I can care for him. It gives me self-esteem.
So I will take two batches of clothes down the stairs tomorrow. I will sit in front of the dryers and watch the clothes spin. I will fold them and put them away.
And, I will feel good. I accomplished something.