By Jim Langham

Several months ago, our washing machine took its final spin before bowing out of service to us. Just prior to that, I had made the decision to start airing out our laundry at a laundromat in Berne, Ind., where I work for the local newspaper several days a week.

The big decision came when I noticed that the steps to our basement decided to start growing and seemed taller each time I carried the clothes up and down the stairs.

So once or twice a week, I tote a garbage bag full of clothes to the car for the 38-mile drive to Berne.

One evening when I arrived home from such a task, Joyce and I decided to go out for supper. Casually, she said to me, “I'll need the laundry because the clothes I want to wear tonight are in there.”