Laundry Day

It's Laundry Day today, which prompted the following conversation with my friend, Andrew:

me: I swear, I would consider donating a kidney for a dryer right now

Andrew: Like a clothes dryer?

me: Yes, we don't have one here. Have you ever tried air drying your clothes in England?

Andrew: Its always cold and wet there Why is there not a dryer?!?!

me: Because the English like to wallow in misery and dampness. Right now I have yoga pants and wet towels hanging all over my room. Tonight I shall be attempting to try them with my hair dryer.

Andrew: Its a wonder they ever dominated the globe.

One of the things I like best about Andrew is he always uses the appropriate amount of exclamation points for any given situation. Having no clothes dryer in England? That's definitely worth at least two plus some befuddled question marks.

At least I'm not airing my dirty laundry. Yet, I mean.

Anyhoo, I'm sitting here surrounded by a series of clothing items, draped over any and every available surface, all in various states of dampness. Very glamorous. Actually, not having a clothes dryer has been one of the biggest adjustments to life here in England. Primarily because it has introduced math to my domestic life, and we all know how uncomfortable math makes me feel.

I do words, people, not numbers.

Instead of starting the dryer, waiting 30 minutes and, let's be honest, restarting the dryer to avoid folding, I'm spending portions of my day cross referencing weather patterns with the drying times of clothing articles so that, with any luck, I might have a pair of clean and dry underwear in time for class tomorrow.

Fingers crossed!

{Images by Elizabeth Farrar for Bella Vita}