This morning dawned bright, clear, and chilly. During the first two hours of daylight, the sun chased the cold away and ushered in perfect spring weather.
Since Wednesday is laundry day around, I quickly stripped the beds and gave the washing machine a work out. Then I pegged everything, including the handmade quilts (lining side out so the pieced side won’t fade), on the clothesline. Between the light breeze and the sun, they’ll be dry by mid-afternoon.
Hanging the laundry outside is a lot of work – trips down to the laundry room and carrying up baskets of heavy, wet linens, and wrestling the wind while pegging them to the line. All that happens before, what is for me, the drudgery of all drudgeries, making beds. Only my desire for a foretaste of heaven motivates my lazy soul to go to so much trouble.
The air in heaven, I think, will carry the fragrance of clean sheets dancing with the breeze beneath a springtime sun. And tonight, when I crawl between the air-sweetened sheets my lungs with fill gratitude. I’ll fall asleep bathed in the simple pleasure of a most fragrant aroma. Heaven can’t smell better than that.
