Laundry

I love Italian laundry. Sheets and socks fluttering in the wind trigger some sort of internal switch and I feel compelled to pull out my camera. There's something so nostalgic about it...the balconies, the sun dried clothing, the little old ladies who slip out of view when they see me or those who stop and wave. By the time we leave, I am sure I will have thousands of images of Sicilian underwear. I am not sure what I will do with all of those pictures, but I just can't seem to stop myself. That doesn't sound quite right does it? A compulsive need to photograph other people's underwear...but it really does look so charming and sweet flapping against stucco and stone.

And yet, when it comes to dealing with the laundry in my own house the nostalgia quickly fades. It is my most dreaded domestic chore. I can weed all day. In fact, I like weeding. Dishes: I enjoy doing those, especially now that I have easy access to NPR and This American Life on my I-touch. Sweeping: I kind of like the hypnotic swishing and the satisfaction of getting rid of little piles of dirt. Cooking: not always my favorite thing to do, but I go through phases of true enjoyment and I do like the thrill of finding a recipe that is a keeper.

But laundry feels like never ending torture, a domestic state of purgatory. I don't mind folding, but I have some strange aversion to putting away the clothes and that always has disastrous results. I know that some people pine for a personal chef or daily housekeeper. I yearn for someone to just come and put away my laundry each day. I'll happily wash it, dry it, and fold it, but I hate putting it away. I am not sure what's wrong with me but there is some block there.

I recently dove into Karen Maezen Miller's new book, Hand Wash Cold. I foolishly read it with a craving for a quick transformation. I wanted something to click in my brain, an instant mental re-frame that would suddenly make doing the laundry as appealing as photographing it seems to be for me. But that didn't happen. That's exactly the opposite of her message. Her message is similar to Thich Nhat Hanh's message about doing dishes. Slow down, be in the moment, appreciate the daily tasks and see them in the larger context of fully living your life, your current life. Not the life you imagine having or the life you left behind in another chapter. It was stupid of me to expect to find a quick fix. But I am feeling desperate lately. Wanting, needing to make a change.

I am letting Maezen-Miller's words seep and soak in my thoughts, but I am still itching for some concrete suggestions. So now I am here. Asking you for help. How do you do your laundry? How do you get it put away and keep doing it every day without smothering under the piles, the monotony, and the repetition of it all? I am hoping that when we leave Italy in a few years I will not only leave with loads of laundry photos, but perhaps I will also leave with a better idea of how to do laundry. Laundry--- free of my current dread and resentment.