Monday, 1 April 2013
In Nova Scotia, we really don't have mountains. We have big hills. We call them mountains, but they aren't. At least not to this girl from the West Coast. To me the Rocky Mountains, are mountains. That said, there is one notable mountain here in this beautiful province I call home. It's called Laundry Mountain and it lives right here in the closet in my laundry room. Sometimes it's like the Rocky Mountains, sometimes The Cape Breton Highlands, but mostly its epic K2. For all you Mom's and Dad's out there, I know you understand Laundry Mountain, and I think you probably all grow ones of your own. The other day, as I was tackling yet another load of laundry, I found a shirt I had forgotten I even owned. It's been that long since I've seen the bottom of the hamper. Truthfully, it's been that long since I've even seen the hamper. Poor thing was crushed beneath the weight of all those dirty clothes and towels, sheets and blankets.
Having a family of five, and pets, and a hobby farm generates a lot of laundry. It also doesn't help the matter that we are on a well and septic which means we limit how many loads a day. Or the fact that I hang my laundry out on the line, to save money and energy, which slows the process even more. Especially when, like I did last night, forgot to take it in off the line, and a rain storm blew in, soaking it all, and strewing it all over my yard. There's also the little matter of when my wonderful, gorgeous children are forced to clean their rooms. Their idea of this cleaning their rooms idea is picking everything up off the floor and dumping it in the laundry hamper. Clean, dirty, it doesn't matter. Room is clean, Mom is happy, right? WRONG. But hey, what can one do about it. Day after day, I don my climbing gear and scale laundry mountain, battling the elements to get to the bottom, not the top, so that I can have that one small, pleasurable moment, when I see the bottom of the hamper. It only lasts moments, but it was worth the journey, a journey I will make again, tomorrow, and the next, tirelessly, but with courage!