Our Last Saturday in California

The phone rang at 7:30 just as I was going to take Walter out for his walk. My mother.  Still upset from yesterday.  Took the phone outside and listened for half an hour. Said we'd finish later.  John took down curtains in my office and bathroom. I washed them, hung them out on the line. Oh, how I'll miss hanging laundry up on the deck. I've looked forward to Saturdays when I do laundry. Ten months of the year I set up my two collapsable racks downstairs - outside in spring and fall, inside in summer so I add some cool humidity to the house.  When I pull the clothesline across the deck and secure it, I feel that I'm connecting with all the women throughout history who've done laundry.  I love the connection. I love seeing towels and clothes waving in the breeze.  Will I have a laundry line in Texas? Probably not in our rental house. But someday. Someday we'll own a house again and have a yard and privacy. For now, though, it's back to packing. I've left my diaries for last.  They were the first thing I grabbed when we had to evacuate for the Quartz Mountain fire in 2005.  I rely on them often to straighten out the timeline of my life which gets tangled and confused otherwise.