Laundry

Not as in “dirty” Laundry. Lord knows I have none of that.

*ahem*

I love the smell of laundry, or specifically the smell of laundry drying. My next door neighbor uses the best fabric softner and in the winter, the outside of her house smells like fires and bounce. It’s a much nicer combination than you think.

I have nothing of real substance to write about right now. I suppse that’s a good thing. So, I will once again ask you to bear with me, and a real post will be coming soon.

Tomorrow we are going to the funeral of a friends mother. A friend from high school who’s mother treated me like her own, as many of my friends parents did. I am sad, yes, because she died, but more because she more or less killed herself. Not directly, but slowly, with years of severe overeating that left her morbidly obese, bed ridden, septic and dead of congestive heart failure. Now her children are left to wonder why they didn’t matter enough for her to keep herself alive. Why it was more important to be stubborn than to stick around and see her grandchildren get big. It’s sad.

The moral of the story is that we are more than ourselves. In the end, our lives comes down to the choices we have made and those we haven’t. We should all remember that every choice we make causes ripples.

We don’t exist in a vaccum.

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