I love doing laundry. It reminds me of my Grandma Freda. With a husband and sons and grandsons who farmed, she did a lot of laundry. I would sit in the basement with her and listen to her sing as she ironed and folded. I learned to iron by practicing on Grandpa's handkerchiefs. Whenever I smell line-dried sheets, I think of her.
Waiting for a load of warm towels to come out of the dryer.
No, Harry, I don't see you at all, hiding there in that white laundry basket.