I wasn't going to air this post on laundry baskets (which technically is less about laundry baskets and more about "not" laundry baskets), but the gauntlet has been thrown down and now I really must. Yorkshire Pudding
made fun of the topic, and Steve Reed
was somewhat incredulous about getting a whole post out of it (see comments on previous post
), so if this post fails to astound/amaze/amuse/inform/instill pity, I blame both of them. Except that Steve was loopy on painkillers, so he's off the hook, which means I will have to put all the blame on Mr. Pudding Man. Aw, don't worry, he can dish out the teasing well enough, and he takes it well, too! (Right, YP? RIGHT??)
When I left home in my teens, I bought the usual laundry baskets to tote my laundry to the facilities at the dorm and then at my apartment. It seemed like the best choice - bags were only for camping, while leaving clothes in a pile on the floor was against my upbringing, and a cardboard box, although affordable, was a bit tacky looking.
Regular laundry basket. Nothing fancy.
Those baskets functioned for years just like they were supposed to. Easy to clean, easy to carry, got the job done.
When I was in my early thirties, I started noticing it hurt to carry a full laundry basket; the ridge around the top dug into my side in a most uncomfortable way. This was also about the time I was beginning to find camping unpleasant because somehow the ground had gotten too hard, even with an air mattress under me, and I was wincing when certain spots on my back, arms and legs were subjected to any pressure at all.
At 2 a.m., camping felt like sleeping on these.
I stopped carrying laundry in baskets, and started using large plastic bags, the kind you'd put recycling in. I would have used black garbage bags except I was afraid someone (cough*husband*cough) would mistake the dirty clothes for garbage and I didn't want to replace all the clothes we owned on short notice.
"Where's the bag I left in the hall?" "You mean that garbage bag? . . . oops"
Plastic bags worked very well until we got a cat (and then another cat) who loved the flavour or possibly the texture of plastic and constantly tried to chew on the bags. Plastic does not make for a safe treat for any animal, no matter how much they love it; it can cause intestinal blockages or suffocation. Another solution had to be found.
"She is wrong. Plastic bags are delicious. And nutritious."
I decided to sew cloth bags, and for a couple of years (yes, years) I thought about doing it every time I washed clothes but never actually, you know, did
it. And in the meantime we were - horrors! - dumping our dirty clothes on the closet floor, and when there was a bagful we'd take a plastic bag from the closet shelf and stuff the clothes in it and take it to the basement for laundering. And because I have a vivid imagination (and truly you don't need
to have a vivid imagination if you do any reading because you'll already know about sloughed-off skin cells, and tiny fragments of this and that, and dust and dirt and food crumbs and dust mites, etc. etc. etc. that fall out of those dirty clothes when you take them off), every time I gathered up the dirty clothes I would clean the floor too. That's a lot of cleaning over the years, my friends.
Not me (I eschew lipstick). The cleaning equipment is about right, though.
I found an old sheet and cut out the cloth bags and I found some thread that didn't match but that I wanted to use up because who in their right mind would ever use a whole spool of purple thread in one lifetime? and I had those suckers ready to sew. But first I had to hem several pairs of trousers, and the laundry bags took a back seat to other priorities and I STILL HAVEN'T SEWN THEM.
The other day I was thinking about how I wished there was an easier solution.
Also not me. Not me, not sewing. Too busy daydreaming.
I thought, wouldn't it be great if there was some sort of lightweight container, easily wiped out, durable and portable, to put dirty clothing into? Something the cats wouldn't try to eat every time they passed it?
Something like ... say ... a basket. For laundry. A laundry basket.
Good thinking, Sherlock Einstein.
However, it still hurts my side to carry one on my hip, and now it also hurts my back to carry it in front of me with both hands, plus that leaves me with zero hands free to do anything else, like opening doors or holding the stair rail.
Is there a solution for me? (besides sitting down and sewing those cloth bags, that is) (which, on reflection, I probably could have done in the time it took to write this post)
How do you store your dirty laundry prior to washing it? Or maybe more to the point, how do you transport it from the point where you take it off to the point where you wash it?
Let's all talk about our dirty laundry! Don't be shy!
Yep. Could have sewn those bags in less than an hour. Still haven't done so. Waiting for alternative solutions that might come from blog readers. No pressure. I'm just waiting. Patiently. Waiting.
Yorkshire Pudding made a further comment on the previous post, and included a link to a book called "The Laundry Basket" and from the preview available on Amazon it looks like an interesting volume. So it IS possible to write something worthwhile about laundry baskets! Here is the link (thanks, YP): https://www.amazon.co.uk/Laundry-Basket-Monkeys-Fist-Collection/dp/178306448X
Stay tuned for my next post, entitled "Drying Clothes."
(Just kidding.) (Maybe.)
All photos courtesy of Pixabay, except the laundry basket, which I snipped from Canadian Tire's website, so I wouldn't have to take a picture of my own, and the sheep, which I think I might have lifted from one of the blogs I read regularly. If so, please take it as a compliment, and tell me so I can credit you!
If you have read this far, you should win something. Something big and valuable. Unfortunately, I have nothing big except cats and nothing valuable except chocolate. Which I am reluctant to share.
So I'm afraid all I can offer is this measly wish: Hope your weekend is excellent! Maybe there will be prizes next time :)