When I drive from Peakville back to Suburbia Somnolenta, I invariably bring some of the Old Man’s washing with me.
I recently soaked and hand-washed one of the Old Man’s favourite pullovers, knitted many years ago by the Deceased Lady, and now slightly fragile. The colour of the wash-water had to be seen to be believed.
Another of those favourite pullovers is still waiting to be washed.
[Original posting 22 September 2009]