In a strip mall in a medium-size California desert town is a laundromat called Launderland.


It must have been a beauty, state-of-the-art, in its heyday, but now, like the majority of laundromats across the United States where I’ve washed and dried my clothes, it’s shabby and run-down. The walls are dingy, and the floors seem grimy, especially in the corners. Chunks of tile are missing. The overhead fluorescent lights are at the same time too bright and depressingly dim. The burnt orange color of the benches is faded, and the matching color on the counters is almost entirely gone, rubbed away by decades of hands folding underpants and trousers, t-shirts, nightgowns and blue jeans upon them.


The doors unlock automatically at 6am, and I try to arrive as early as possible on Monday mornings in order to avoid crowds of other patrons and the inanely chattering television which is switched on by an attendant who magically appears mid-morning. While I’m alone, after my clothes are spinning in machines, after I’ve used the restroom (a bare cubicle housing nothing but a toilet and an industrial toilet paper roll holder chained to the wall) and washed my hands and brushed my teeth in the sink outside and next to the restroom (the sink where only the cold faucet works, near which there are paper towels but no soap), after I’ve completed my tasks of hygiene, I look around and find evidence of Launderland’s former glory.


Oh, how this place must have shined four decades ago. It must have been so clean, so modern. Now it’s shabby and sad, but when I look closely, I see hints of what it once was.


This image is on the wall opposite from the restroom doorway. Whenever I walk out of the restroom, this is the first thing I see. I know the man is mad because his coat is wet, but WHY is his coat wet?


I never put money in this machine to find out if I could really get a truly multi-purpose bag out of it.


Laundry bag? Yes. To keep damp clothes separate? Sure. For blanket or clothing storage? Check. For toy storage? Ok. But food freezer storage? Are you kidding me? GROSS!



This is a naughty housewife. She can do my laundry any time.



About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now I have a little travel trailer parked in a small RV park in a small desert town. I also have a minivan to travel in. When it gets too hot for me in my desert, I get in my minivan and move up in elevation to find cooler temperatures or I house sit in town in a place with air conditioning I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

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