Wednesday, May 18, 2011
blue collar, warm heart
last night was laundry night. with robert and pablo watching television in the dark living room, i snuck out to the mud room. the unheated one with brick interior walls. with the three big windows and screen door leading out to the blueberry bush. and i filled the machine with robert's plumbing clothes. cornflower blue work shirt and navy work pants. with a logo sewn on by his grandmother. they are dirty, yes. but they are my husband's.
one day, he might work in an office. and he'll re-wear the same variation of a suit and tie every day, and the laundry basket will be exponentially lighter. he'll dab on the gray flannel and tuck the handkerchief.
but for now, i'll buy the extra strength detergent and check his pockets every evening. and i'll breathe in deep the smell of pipes. the scent cemented in my memory along with mama's clove cookies and pablo's soft, downy fur. and i'll complain about the loads of wash sitting in the basin, but really cherish that time. in the little cottage by the woods, where work is shed at the threshold, and real life, real love begins after five.