The laundry system that finally stuck

I have tried, and abandoned, roughly five laundry systems. The colour-coded baskets. The one-load-a-day discipline. The weekend marathon. Each lasted about a fortnight before reality — work, weather, a yard that doubles as a corridor — quietly killed it.

The one that stuck is almost embarrassingly dull: two baskets, wash when one is full, fold the moment it’s dry because in our climate “later” means a damp, creased pile by evening. No schedule, no app, no aesthetic. It works precisely because it asks nothing of a better version of me.

I’ve come to think the best home systems are the ugly ones that survive a bad week. Anything that only works when you’re rested and organised isn’t a system, it’s a mood. A small home runs on routines plain enough to keep when everything else is on fire — and laundry, like most of homemaking, rewards the boring choice.