I brought home grocery bags of laundry tonight. Aprons, cloths, towels all reeking of oils and vinegars. OK, reeking is the wrong word as the smell of the two have become perfume to me much as the saddle pads soaked in horse-seat that inhabit my back seat.
This week might as well be mid-February, when everyone is hunkered down with other thoughts than shopping. Bills from a season of fun and leisure are pouring in and the cost of beginning a new season is looming on the horizon. So in the unpredictability of retail sales, we used the quiet time to get ready for the deluge to come.
My fall looks something like this: every weekend, except one in September, is booked with store events until December 25th. I am gazing upon a calendar that is fuller than an expectant mother in her last few months. Life is burgeoning with activity!When I switched over the work-laundry, (as opposed to the barn-laundry that leaves lots of pokey hairs and a definite smell of hay,) from the washer to the dryer, I searched for money that might have been left in those apron pockets. I had hoped for a ten, maybe even just a couple of soggy dollar bills. A shiny, 2014 penny rattled in the drum of the washer. A lucky penny is my reward.