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A friend, living in London, once told me that she remembered the Karoo best by bedsheets, dried by sun and wind.

She had a whimsical but intriguing theory that while you slept, the day’s energy would seep gently back into you through the sheets.

I sometimes think of that when we’re having guests from The Big City – anyplace larger than Cradock. Before they come, I wash the linen and hang it up on the line, to dance in the Karoo light.

A few hours later, I take the sweet-smelling, crispy sheets, pillowcases and duvet cover down and spread them over the spare double bed. I don’t even iron out the creases. They come fresh from the sun.

A laundry day is also good for reflection. Like, why we moved here from Joburg

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