The laundry saga

Today's post is inspired by my friend at Just Our Thoughts, who once again blogged about something that was on my mind, too (how does she know?). The subject: laundry.

My friend described her mountain of clean laundry, a sight I know well, as I have often created such a pile on our bed in hopes of putting it all away, only to dump it all into the baskets again when night comes. This usually continues for a week or so until the baskets have mostly emptied themselves because we've been living out of them. Then it's time to do laundry again, and the whole big pile of clean clothes plus a plethora of other excuses sets everything up for yet another week of living out of laundry baskets. Sounds so lovely, doesn't it? You're right, it's not, and the dad of the family particularly resents it if he has to hunt for his clothes outside of their designated places, which makes everything even nastier.

Last week after many weeks of the laundry life described above, I somehow became resolved to have my laundry DONE, as in really done, not just washed and dried but put away, too. And, somehow (read: by the grace of God), I did finish. Since then, I have striven to maintain that finished state. The first thing I had to do was do laundry the day after the laundry pile disappeared. This was not hard to do, since there was still plenty hiding in nooks and crannies. The next day it was time to work on "extra curricular" laundry, i.e. the things that really do need washing periodically, but which do not usually make it to the hamper without conscious effort. Sunday came up not long after that, and I felt quite all right about leaving laundry alone for the day. However, I knew that laundry work would have to resume on Monday if Mt. Washmore was to remain banished.

The beginning of the week went pretty well, with a couple of days of doing and load and getting it put away before going to bed. But, by today a very full basket of clean clothes had made its way back into the master bedroom. I realized that such seemingly innocent baskets are probably the usual seeds from which Mt. Washmore grows at our house. I vanquished the basket and emptied the hampers into the washing machine. For now, Mt. Washmore is at bay. It will not stay that way, though, without continual effort. Looks like it may be time to change some sheets tomorrow for the sake of building the laundry habit.