|Porch scene, Charleston, S.C.|
Does anyone else remember the smell of sheets dried in the sun shine? I would always take a bath and wash my hair that night so everything smelled deliciously fresh and clean when I got between those sheets.
When I was a kid in north-east India the word for Saturday meant "wash clothes day" and we would often hike down to the river with dirty clothes bundled and tied to our backs. We'd spend the morning soaping them up in the fresh creek water and then spread them on the bushes to dry. We'd take our own bath and rinse our hair in the waterfalls and then building a fire to make tea and have a lazy afternoon picnic before packing it all back up again to carry home.
It sounds completely unreasonable now but were awfully good times since all of our friends were doing exactly the same thing. The water was cold and the sun was warm. I'd hop from boulder to boulder picking a favorite to lay in the sunshine. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday at all.
For now though, it's nice to be able to spin and click to dry my clothes, thank you.