mother hubbard does laundry...

its become a weekend activity.... a ritual,the sanctity of which must be upheld at any cost.....
the week's laundry...
all that accumulates.
finally saturday morning dawns....
the newer technological products like washing machines havent reached our good ole establishment as yet.thus 5 am...i fortify myself,and dispel all fears that one day i might open my cupboard to find that i have no clean underwear or socks...
i go through the drill.... soak it all in the largest bucketful of warm soap water...spend all my energy in scrubbing them,till i am drained.put it all out in the sun... neatly spread and all possibilities of creases are effectively dealt with.
as soon as they are half dry i whisk my fabindias and other khadis and blah to dip them in 0.75 dilute starch solution.
as i have no inclination nor the energy in me to wash anymore.... i choose to continue to live in my denims....they are spared the treatment that mite seem to them like spartan cruelty.
it is the the greatest feeling to fold them in the evening... the fresh smell of detergent lingers... and the warm sunshine is.... just so warm....
the next best feeling to this is..... ummm...
jim morrison and beer.
making out in the afternoon rain....
driving into a sunset....
all of that..