Inner beauty

Last night after I wrote about our ugly laundry, I lay awake thinking about whether there was anything really beautiful in that room. As you do. I thought about whether I could take an arty shot of the green slime in the laundry trough and call it beautiful. In the garden, perhaps, but not in the laundry, no, it definitely isn't. Not to my way of thinking, anyway. Then I thought about the picture I took of the inside of the washing machine after I had run a bottle of vinegar through the rinse cycle to get rid of the soap scum. Now there, in my eyes, is laundry beauty.