I lock the door behind me, stowing my keychain in my crossbody bag. I set off towards my destination. I sweep my cane along the quiet streets of Mayberry, rush hour behind me, errands ahead of me. The bright sunny morning encourages me to wear my sunglasses. Crisp autumn leaves crush under my feet as I walk, crunch, crunch.
I make a loop of the neighborhood as I complete my errands. One, two, three places. At the post office, I greet the clerk and pick up my general delivery mail, mentally checking off the last errand. I arrive home, greeted at the door by a fuzzy wagging terrier tail. I consider what’s next. My eyes gaze at the TV–more Gilmore Girls today? Then I remember laundry. Hmm. I will start on my laundry and then watch some Gilmore Girls, a compromise.
I walk upstairs, trailed by a terrier shaped shadow. I collect the dirty clothes and towels in order to sort them. I touch each piece, feeling the fabric, making my decisions on which piles to add each item. My terrier jumps onto the bed to supervise the activity.
I pull open the blinds to let in more light, but I realize it’s overcast, a storm is about to hit Mayberry. Good thing I did my errands already. I gather a load of clothes and descend the stairs. I pick up speed midway, comfortable with the steps, slowing down as I near the landing, tapping my heel to the riser the way my OT taught me to check so I reached the landing safely. I carefully descend the last three steps to the floor as my terrier rushes past me to take up a new vantage point from the couch.
I drop the clothes outside the laundry room. I open the washer, add detergent, counting silently to three before stopping the stream then close the lid. I turn the dial until I feel the bump dot I placed there years before that indicates a normal wash cycle. I pull the knob to start filling the washer up with water.
I pass the living room and the terrier’s collar jingles as he swivels his head to watch me go upstairs for more laundry. On the return trip, I drop more clothes outside the laundry room, then drop myself on the couch next to my terrier. The warmth of the blanket he lies on compels him to ignore me and fall asleep. I switch on the TV for another visit to Stars Hollow as the washer whirls along inside and the rain falls outside.
What do you do when it turns into a rainy day? Tell me about it.