88 Reasons My Laundry Still Isn’t Folded

A Gift: Love It, Hate It, Steal It - Your Call

Momument, a floor-to-ceiling sculpture assembled with stacks of overfilled laundry baskets one stacked on top of the other. Artist: Crystal Brown

Hi there,

and Happy New Year!

I’m an unapologetic enthusiast. Always have been. It’s a gift and, now and again, a curse. Last night, with a pile of washing waiting to be folded (still there, by the way), I found myself making a list. Not just any list, mind you: 88 things that are lighting me up this season.

If you’re anything like me, you can’t resist peeking into the secret corners of other people’s lives. Especially mothers. Even more so when there’s a list involved. It’s indulgent. It’s nosy. And it’s delicious.

This is my smorgasbord of seasonal obsessions: a mix of the new, the familiar, and the “oh right, I forgot how much I love that.” Get stuck in. Borrow what you like. Ignore the rest. Just don’t judge me for the abandoned laundry.

Book darts. Broad beans. Apartment Therapy (for homey inspo). Playing scrabble. Diana Krall (Peel Me a Grape). My SheilaMaid high in the kitchen. Flow bee hives. Ping pong. Jo Loves Plum + Leather perfume. Paloma Home. Good manners. Magpies. Corrugated tin sheds made into cabins. Juniper Ridge body oil (because winter skin deserves TLC). Puns (RIP Boiling Water. You will be mist). My own podcast. Velvet sofas. Brussel sprouts (don’t @ me, they’re amazing roasted with bacon). Gold paint. Collecting pine cones for kindling. Quantum Human Design charts. Polish pottery. Car camping. Voluptuous Hanne Lee Joshi art. Rabbit dachshunds (most of all Dickie, my sausage dog). Z Library. Melatonin gummies. PJ days. Jordans nutty granola. Tiny House Nation. Russchian pink soda. Modern Self Reliance. Hair slathered with conditioner in plastic shower caps. Greek-isle hopping. A hot water bottle between thighs (a winter MVP—stay safe, avoid old bottles). Working allnighters. SchnitzelKNITS. Red Yeast rice. Shazam. Fangirling Roaming Wild Rosie. Homemade Sugar Body Scrub (almond oil, coarse brown sugar, yummy essential oils, recycled glass jars). An Airflow teeth clean. Vindaloo. WagWellies. Fresh bedlinen. Arctic Bath Hotel. Reading books to my kids in funny accents. Be my Eyes app. Candles lit as daily ritual. Laundry lens. Sobriety. Being unapologetically psychic. FounderLibrary. People-watching from a little cafe. One day I’ll need Byocular. The beach at night (even in winter, there’s magic in the waves). An indoor vintage stall with surprise treasures. A breeze blowing with the scent of a beloved in it. Gasta on giphy. Learning to jumpstart my car, “The Great Hondini”. Grenson boots. Getting in bed at 8pm (early nights are a winter flex, not a fail). Over-size houseplants. Tempaper. Being willing to be invisible. Smash Boom Best podcast for (big) kids. Strong forearms. Granny square blankets. Cultpens. The crunch of frost underfoot. Frances Klein bespoke specs. Nioxin for thick(er) hair. Edward Bulmer Cuisse de Nymphe Emue paint. Colouring as therapy. That winter chimney smell. Unexpected thrift shop bargains. Working from my bed-office. Knowing what the moon phase is, based on how shitty I feel. Tattly temp tattoos. Telling friends I love them (winter introspection has me extra sappy). Hearing the Steam train from our garden. De-bobbling winter jumpers (call it therapy, call it survival). Ursula Franklin’s idea of society as a potluck supper—we all bring our best dish. Mushroom Color Atlas. Giving thanks for every one of my ten kids. Taking naps. Clear days on my calendar. Walking away from things that aren’t right.

So there you have it — 88¹ reasons my laundry still isn’t folded. You’re welcome!

Now your turn: what’s lighting you up this season? I’m always collecting new ideas — join me in the comments!

Here’s to finding joy in the everyday, and to sharing the things that light us up, whatever they may be.

Wishing you surprises and abundance (the good kind),

Danusia xx

1. When I wrote this list, I wasn’t counting. Only afterward did I realise it’s a whacking eighty-eight. Curious, I looked up the angel meaning of the number. Turns out, 88 is about abundance — not just financial, but in health, skills, talents, and personal growth. I’ll take the abundance, though preferably not in laundry!