Monday, May 27, 2013

Dog and suds


May 26, 2013

The washer downstairs runs endlessly, spinning out of control from 11:30pm on Friday to 6:30pm on Saturday so obviously something is amiss! Convinced Taelor to trek down to the basement to open the washer lid only to discover the tank is full of foamy water, and the dial is not cycling. She turned the knob to draw off the water and spin, with a great squeak. Filmy water gushed out from the bottom of the ancient appliance and onto the cement floor going mainly in the general direction of the floor drain. Taelor looked pretty sheepish upon her return with our basket loaded with soiled laundry to be cleaned elsewhere. Sigh.

A few miles down the road from here stands a dilapidated white building, cornering two streets. I am fortunate to have a great friend who is willing to lug my overflowing basket of clothes to sit and wait during the wash and dry cycles, occasionally checking them to sort out the dry articles, fold and haul everything back home. The change machine was out-of-order so Sarah drove across the street to hawk a five spot for a handful of quarters. Shocking to discover the machines set me back a mere $1.25 per washer and about the same to dry.

A few heavy-set people scattered in the broken seats, chatting and glancing our way strategizing about snatching rolling carts to lug their precious cargo from washer to dryer across the aisle. A glance up now and again lets them know there is still time on the machine and they can relax a few more minutes. My fashion-statement boot always draws one person in for conversation. “Did you break your foot?” I want to wail in song yet a simple story of a fracture in South America flies calmly out of my lips. A small man with tight-buttoned black shirt, wide forehead and pleasant smile relayed his personal story of broken limb and rapid healing process. He has full range of motion and looks pleased about his progress in a few short months. I am cheered more than I can tell you and want to kiss him in delight.

Connecting with an old friend, Sarah who came to spend the weekend from a nearby town. We discuss issues and challenges such as nutrition, mothering techniques, disappointments, parents and their foibles, the broken path ahead, fears and trepidation, desires, dreams, commitment strategies, movies, the Twin Cities, traveling, our past relationships, things that make a difference as we inhale our adventure at the tired Laundromat. I can’t recall the last time I had to do laundry away from the house. Sara’s little dog, Max came along for the ride and has such different energy than my Tyrus. They get along well though one is 105 pounds and the other nine.

My friend and I talk about our profound stories well into the night, surprising ourselves at just how long we can stay awake at our maturing age. 

No comments:

Post a Comment