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        Life is laundry. My mother taught me how to do laundry the right way. “The right way” wasn’t universal, but she had curated a system based on each family member’s needs. I took on my own tasks willingly, I sorted, washed, and put away my own loads of whites, colors, bedding, and darks, at the age of ten. I took control, and I was proud of that.  I learned that sometimes you need to take a little off your load, sometimes you have to pile on an extra few socks and shirts, it all depends on what the situation calls for; there is no universal clothing count per load carried. You just do what you are confident you (and your machine) can handle. Sometimes you have to analyze what happened to get that musky smell, muted color or unpleasant gruff texture; then act accordingly. Maybe find away to become a little softer, a little brighter, a lot more cleansed. Sometimes you need to learn when to take the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer, because when the laundry is left for too long in a place that no longer serves it, it will begin to grow unpleasant tendencies, or foul organisms that corrupt the future use of that favorite pair of jeans, or memory in hand-sewn, and carefully pieced, blanket form. Sometimes you need to hang the sheets on the clothes line; give them a little scent of adventure, that lingers in the dreams of REM sleep. Never put a red sock in with the stark white, color will always transfer, and not only turn everything pink, but take the richness and unique color away from the red sock. Avoid putting your favorite fuzzy blanket, used for gentle comfort, intermingled with the gruff knitted texture of cotton blue jeans; that sweet softness will soon deteriorate, leaving no ounce of gentle comfort. Do not leave things where they do not belong, even in haste; they have a way of creating lasting damage, of becoming rough, of becoming rugged and worn. 

        Treat things like they matter, maintain proper care.  Every two weeks, work on washing the bedding, properly making the bed, then enjoy it when you crawl into the freshly-cleaned and peacefully airy caress of linen. Carefully clean your favorite jeans, right-side-in to avoid the color wearing out, you’ll want to wear them as a confidence boost, when you take that social leap. Smooth and hang your floaty  dresses; the ones that make you feel like a cottage dweller; wrinkles hinder the flow of the twirling skirts that put a smile on little kids faces as they watch you, baby’s breath in your hair. You’ll be the closest thing to a fairy they will ever see. That load of sweaters; fresh and warm out of the dryer; could soon become a sweet and comforting floral-smelling hug to someone of the brink of tears. That blanket might be crumpled within the grasp of the stubby little fingers of a bright eyed, texture-learning baby; make that texture the most pleasant one they can grasp in their tiny fists. If something is torn, fix it, sew on the button, patch the rip, and embrace the new character.  Treat things like they matter. They do.