Enchanted August
“This was already their third Saturday at Hopewell. So far it had been shockingly marvelous. In fact, she was afraid that she would tempt the gods if she enumerated all the things that had gone right on Little Lost Island. Jon and she had had a ton of sex, for one; here she was, doing laundry. She actually loved doing laundry on the island. The washer and dryer were not in a dingy basement as they were in her apartment building in Brooklyn. There were no quarters to scrimp together. She didn’t h...ave to wait to get into a machine.
No, here the laundry room had a view of the trees and the path down to the springhouse. She could just dump her laundry in a pile near the washer and do it at her leisure. She even picked up Beverly’s laundry and did his, as she was quite certain that he was not a laundry doer himself and he would be embarrassed to admit it. I am Dobby the house elf, she thought, but liberated.
The cottage had a long, squeaky clothesline on a pulley that seemed to have been installed before Lottie was born but still worked if you applied a little elbow grease.MoreLess
No, here the laundry room had a view of the trees and the path down to the springhouse. She could just dump her laundry in a pile near the washer and do it at her leisure. She even picked up Beverly’s laundry and did his, as she was quite certain that he was not a laundry doer himself and he would be embarrassed to admit it. I am Dobby the house elf, she thought, but liberated.
The cottage had a long, squeaky clothesline on a pulley that seemed to have been installed before Lottie was born but still worked if you applied a little elbow grease.MoreLess
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