Sometimes I become obsessed with an idea or more accurately fascinated by it, and one of those things is hanging laundry out to dry. In Singapore at least, one of the first things I noticed is that most people live in a highrise of some sort and there are just a zillion highrises everywhere, and out of the apartments of those highrises hang loads and loads of laundry, which brings me to my fascinating point:
The same sun that tans the skin of the party girls in Bali, and fades the bikinis for sale in San Diego, and bleaches my hard wood floors back in Minneapolis is drying the clothing of millions if not billions of people all around the world. Trippy huh? The sun.
So why hasn't the U.S. picked up on the availability of this free clothes drying service?
My grandma used to dry her clothes outside during the summer. I hated using her towels, they were so scratchy, but at least they smelled good.
When I lived in Spain, the woman I lived with did my laundry. She lived on the second floor and had a clothes line strung outside. A pair of my underwear fell to the ground below, and I guess we couldn't ask the lady downstairs if we could grab them because she was a hoarder or something and didn't have access to her patio. So a pair of my underwear still lives in Spain.
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