Laundromat Diaries Part Five

The last entry in the Laundromat Diaries series.

Laundromat Diaries Part Five

I’ve made it to my fifth decade on this planet. I feel for the first time a true sense of self-confidence without self-doubt. I think living off grid in the mountains of Montana has helped in that way. I know having been in a strong, loving relationship has been instrumental. I muse over these thoughts as I pull our SUV up to the laundromat in Libby. Over the winter we’ve gotten behind in our household cleaning, especially the washing of towels, comforters, linens and rugs. The amount of electricity and water that it takes to complete the washing is prohibitive for those living off grid. So my wife and I make a trip to the next town to use the power and water resources of the laundromat/car wash. 

As we took armloads of things to be washed from our vehicle inside, a young couple in a 200 thousand dollar motorhome pulled in the lot to do their laundry and wash their vehicle. Behind the leviathan motor home they towed a Lexus SUV covered in children’s fingerprints. I cocked a private smile and shouldered three heavy crochet area rugs. Inside the laundromat were three rows of vintage washers, a number of them out of service in lieu of repairs. Against one wall were four heavy duty washers and four large capacity dryers. The owner did consignment laundry for railroad and lumber company work crews. Piles of that kind of laundry were found stacked in front of the large washer and dryers. My wife and I found three working washers for the towels and linens but were tasked to wait for a large capacity washer for our rugs. 

We passed the time playing our favorite card game called Oklahoma, a cross between Gin Rummy and Canasta. It was a game we were evenly matched in, so it was fun to win or lose. Before the end of our first game, the small washers ended their cycle and my wife got up to switch out the towels for linens. I was able to talk the owner into letting me slip in between her consigned load for a load of our rugs in the larger washers. I managed the rugs because when wet, they could weigh over a hundred pounds. I didn’t want my wife to tear a rotator cup trying to wrestle these beasts. After making the laundry changes, we again sat down to a hand of cards. We played without engaging in conversation. 

We didn’t like coming off the mountain. There’s a familiar toast in these parts that goes: “Here’s to never getting off the mountain.” and it’s a heartfelt toast. I looked out the front store window at the couple in the expensive motorhome. The wife was trying to collect multiple bags of clothing while the husband attempted to circle a pack of five kids into a manageable collection. Neither looked as if they believed they were accomplishing anything. I dealt a new hand and my wife and I after a shared knowing look, concentrated on our game. 

The kids ran in ahead of the mother and father. They were like a scouting party for a renegade raid. The laundromat owner just sat motionless behind her counter stacking quarters later to be made into five dollar rolls. Three kids ran back out and two stayed to swing machine doors and play with the coin levers. The owner’s eyes silently roved back and forth. The parents entered each lugging four large bags. The husband looked at the owner and then at his kids while the wife scanned the room for open washers. Neither looked as if they were very experienced with laundromats and wore wrinkles of fatigue and anxiety that didn’t match their designer attire. 

My wife and I finished our game and the motorhome owner’s five kids were now all back in the laundromat, like a pack of curious raccoons nosing around garbage cans. The husband worked at breaking a hundred dollar bill for a few rolls of quarters and the wife stuffed washers while working a damp lock of hair continually dropping off her forehead. I helped my wife load our towels and linens into a large capacity dryer.  It was getting a bit frantic inside the laundromat for the owner and I, but I wasn’t trapped behind a counter, so I told my wife I was going out to wash our vehicle. 

So many things had changed for us in the last ten years of living in a small northwest Montana mountain town, off the grid, and retired. It had been an almost vertical learning curve making the transition. There were a couple casualties along the way. Nothing to do but face the facts of the outcomes and move forward. Take for instance this trip to the laundry.  Our living off grid means we generate our own electric power and pull water from our own well for the house and creek water for our garden. My wife cans food and I harvest firewood for the winter as standard chores.  Now in our fifties, and having been former urbanites, that’s a good deal of labor that you have to stay on top of. But the results of that labor are something a homesteader can see and feel proud of at the end of each and every month. Not like the hollow feeling from a depleted bank statement at the end of the month. 

Spending time and money away from our property and using copious amounts of energy and resources to catch up on chores that got away from us seems wasteful now. I pulled our SUV into a wash stall. To get to our property we have to travel 7 miles on gravel roads. Having a dusty or dirty vehicle is like a badge of honor. But since this was a once a year sojourn, splurging for a car wash seemed acceptable. As I finished loading in my quarters and swung the strong water stream at my SUV, I noticed the luxury motorhome owner angling his huge rig into the next stall that had extra overhead clearance for such vehicles. I imagined it was going to take him about ten times the quarters it took me to clean my vehicle. I again allowed myself a private corner cheek smile. 

Going to the laundromat these days was different than my single years in the past. Now the trip was once a year or so and it had definite purpose, one with closure. When finished the woman I share my life and future with can return home, a true home not a rented existence and feel confident our efforts lead to well earned contentment. We keep life simple in deed and choice, living off grid on the side of a mountain helps in that regard. I watch as the dust sheds off my vehicle. It reminds me of my past years living single, my careers, my divorce and my son. Life passes, we all change. The timer runs out of time and the jet of water rinsing my SUV reverts to a dribble. I get in and pull my rig back to the front of the laundromat. 

Our Laundry is finished. I help my wife carry our clean loads to the back cargo area of our SUV. The wife of the luxury RV owner follows us out looking for her husband who is soaking wet from the back spray resulting from him trying to wash the top of his rig. Standing together, they both looked soaked. Their kids stream out of the laundromat and allow no quarter of peace. My wife and I look at each other. 

“Don’t you have some wood to split back home?” My wife asks me. 

“Yep. I’m glad I’m not that guy.” We smile at each other. I squeeze her hand and we pull away from the laundromat parking lot. It will be another year before we contemplate coming back. 

Author's Note

A conclusion? who knows, a saga has gotta end somewhere, right? As always critiques and comments most welcome.

Reviews

[angel]

Ah, yes; the saga. I wrote one of those. I'm still editing parts of that. FOR THE LOVE OF JOHN, a sprawling,16 chapter, fictional, alternate life with a big family and lots of turmoil, for my old friend, the late, great John Lennon. It started at age 28 and went on for about 50 years!
It was written as a serial for an online e-zine, and they wanted a sex scene for every chapter, so that does get a bit tiresome, but I think it's still a pretty good read.
I have to say, I'm liking this multi part saga of yours. Onward!

[barleygirl]

This is a good share of how your life changed with your Montana living arrangements. I really enjoyed hearing these details. It seems the Laundromat part is mainly to provide the comparison between your own simplified life & the life you are glad you are not living. You refer to yourself as "living off grid" quite often. Also your observations about the rich family show your reverse snobbery (I am also a reverse snob, but hopefully not too blatant in my stories!) Love the way you express your relationship & partnership with your wife (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie