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Forgotten Undies at the Laundry Jail; 6 June 2004

Even though I have, um, four washing machines in varying states of functionality I prefer to do my laundry at the small laundromat over on El Tiro Road. I can use bleach without worrying that I'm poisoning my birdies or lizards and I can use hot water, something my front porch washer does not have. The so-called Laundry Jail is not glamourous, but it does its job.

Today I found an abandoned pile of freshly laundered clothing, the majority of which were delicates.

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