Laundry Karma????

     I am not sure if there is such a thing as laundry karma, but I am sure feeling like it has bit me in the ass.  

     When I lived in Canada my friends use to sing the praises of hanging their laundry on the line to dry.  I heard all about how it was better for the environment, how the sun naturally brightened their whites and they went on and on about how fresh their clothes smelled.  While they were professing the benefits of hanging their clothes on what I perceived (and verbalized quite openly) was a tacky clothes line, I was professing how the days of "Little House on the Prairie" were gone and how I liked my warm and fluffy clothes out of my $2000 high tech dryer just fine.  Truth be told, I would call my friends in jest a few not so nice names related to them hanging clothes on the line, but at least I did it to their faces.  Subtlety is not one of my strong suits.  On many occasions I have stated that hell would freeze over before I would get a clothes line.  Well, Florence did have the worst snow storm this past winter that it has had in 25 years.  Does that count?

     While I had been taking my clothes to the laundromat, I finally decided to cross over to the dark side and wash my clothes with an Italian washing machine and yes, hang them out to dry on a line.  I am sure a few of my friends back in Canada are picking themselves up off the floor laughing right about now.

     First step was to figure how to use the machine.  Washing machines here tend to be very small, but I am told are more efficient than North American machines.  They also tend to be in the weirdest of spots, like under a stove or beside the dishwasher.  No laundry rooms here.  There is a better chance of finding the washing machine outside, then for a home to have a laundry room like we are use to having in Canada. 

     Clothes loaded in the machine, soap in the dispenser, the only thing left to do was to pick the cycle and then turn it on.  That is where my Italian clothes washing experience went downhill, and downhill fast.  Very quickly I realized that it was not going to be as simple as turning a dial to a cycle.  There were multiple buttons and two dials.  The buttons had words under them so I was able to easily google what they meant.  The one dial I could tell was for water temperature, but the other dial had letters.  How on earth would I figure out what they meant?  I decided to go ask a neighbour that I knew spoke english.  Her washing machine had numbers instead of letters.  She did tell me that it was important to figure it out as there is a cycle that can last 90 minutes, and with the cost of electricity here you would not want that.  Back to my apartment I went, feeling frustrated.  

     I sat down in front of the machine on a chair staring at it, as if it would somehow talk to me and tell me what to do.  While the machine did not talk to me, I did find myself talking to it saying with conviction...."I am a highly educated and intelligent woman, I am going to figure you out".  Okay there might of been a bad word or two in there too.  Then it came to me.  I had an epiphany.  I got my computer and googled Italian washing machines.  Sure enough there was a sight that explained to visitors of Italy how to use a washing machine similar to mine.  On the site, beside each letter, was an explanation in english what the cycle type was.  I did it!  The sound of water filling the machine was music to my ears.  Oh, I almost forgot to share with you that during this process I had to email a friend to ask when you add the liquid fabric softener.  I have never used fabric softener.  I have always been a lover of Bounce.  Such a lover of Bounce that it made the short list of things to bring to Italy, just in case I couldn't find it here.  To make the short list says a lot given that I only brought four suitcases.  Seems I am not going to be needing that Bounce now.  My wonderfully supportive friend said she had to stop laughing long enough to be able to type a response, as you see she was one of those dear friends that I chastised for years for hanging her clothes on a line to dry.  I think she found herself laughing so hard because she knew what was to come.

     Yes, karma got me, and I found myself hanging my underwear on a laundry hanger on the terrace to dry.  There they were, blowing in the breeze for everyone to see.  My sheets, I hung over the rails.  I was worried about my clothes being crunchy and wrinkly, but they weren't.  And here I go, brace yourself as it is coming and you are not going to believe that I am saying this but........when I put my head down on the pillow to sleep, I loved the fresh smell!  I take back every nasty word I ever said about hanging laundry on a line to dry.  My new attitude....Happy Hanging!  Whoever said an old dog can't learn new tricks obviously didn't have to learn to adapt to life in Italy.