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When the clothes were cleaned to my satisfaction, Mom helped me hang them on the clothesline, which was also being used for an antsky-traveling highway. After the clothes were dry, I pulled them from the line and buried my nose in their stiff and starched folds, just as I will do today.
There is such [dict]satisfaction[/dict] in the scent of crisp, clean linens and towels. I love to fold the clothes as I walk along the line. It warms my heart at the sight of them stacked so neatly in my [dict]baske[/dict], ready to be tucked away into a drawer.
How can I not smile when I see my daughter’s tiny clothes hung by her Dad’s great big ones? And my son’s clothes are getting harder to tell apart from my husband’s. He is growing up, and the evidence is flapping in my face.
When I hang the clothes, I let Bethany, my fourteen-month-old daughter, run around in the yard. She barks at the neighbor’s dog and picks flowers. She has tried to eat the rotten walnuts that don’t taste good. I have to keep reminding myself to buy a galvanized bucket.
History will repeat itself——I can already tell. [dict]Simple things [/dict]give me joy. Even the lack of things can give me joy.
Now, I wish that I could be just as grateful about not having a dishwasher. |
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