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Last T-Shirt Laundry of the SeasonOctober 18, 2007 I did it this week. Mind you, I thought I'd done it before, on October 2, to be exact. The air was nippy and I was beginning to think of putting on a turtleneck, then it got warmer and I was still wearing T-shirts. Around here the seasons move like the tides, while the days are more like waves: the tide may be going out, but some of the waves reach pretty high up the beach. I'm walking around barefoot while wearing a flannel shirt. The temperature's over 70 but it's dark by 6:30; if I forget to leave the deck light on when I leave at midafternoon, I can barely find my way to the stairs when I get home. Anyway, on Tuesday there were at least 10 T-shirts hanging on the line: Barn Again, Alley's Auto Sales, Reliable Market 60th Anniversary, WUMB-FM 20th Anniversary (they're up to 25 this year), For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide . . . Martha's Vineyard 1989, I'd Rather Ride All Day Than Dance All Night, the wolf that looks like Rhodry, and a couple more. Not a muscle shirt among them, or a tank top. (Ride All Day has long sleeves and will stay in the repertoire for a few more weeks.) Only one pair of cutoffs: T-shirt season lasts a little longer than shorts season, but not much. A discerning eye might notice that there were fewer socks than usual on the drying rack. In hot weather, socks get tossed into the laundry hamper as soon as I take them off. So, come to think of it, do T-shirts. In cooler weather they're still fit to wear again. Don't tell the Board of Health. I promise I don't do the same thing with underwear. Summer laundry is brighter and requires more clothespins. Winter laundry is heavier: more denim, more flannel, more sleeves. Tuesday night the temperature dropped into the midthirties for the first time. Rhodry spent most of the night inside, but that's because I talked him into it. At the moment the east- and west-facing windows are open again, and so's one of my skylights. I haven't turned the heat on yet. I've probably taken my last outdoor shower, but I can't quite admit it: my white towel is still hanging on one canvas side of the improvised stall. I haven't set the alarm yet, but waking up after 7 a.m. makes me think I've wasted half the day. Haven't made chili either. Soon.
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