My fellow inebriates,

If you’ve never visited LBHQ (which of course you’re welcome to) then you’ve never seen Langley in all its glory. Wanna see old washing machines out on the curb? Trucks up on blocks? Toilets full of shrubbery? Well hell, come on down to LBHQ.

My family does its bit to keep pace with the neighbourhood. We’ve neglected the flower bed for four years. The lawn is littered with all manner of Nerf weaponry and ammo. And as you look up at our house (we’re on a hill), you do so through a mesh of undulating dandelions.

That’s why I was so delighted to read about Claire Mountjoy, a British mum who decided to hang her washing in the front yard.

She had some good reasons—three boys = endless laundry; the sun had come out (which it does as infrequently in Britain as it does here); she wanted to save energy and be environmentally friendly; and she doesn’t have a backyard.

All good, right? (As long as there are no bears hanging from the line by their ears.)

Not so much. Seems a neighbourhood business owner was affronted by Mountjoy’s laundry and wrote this anonymous letter:

Of course Mountjoy was upset. An anonymous letter is the most dickish means of communication, and it turns out local businesses were not onside with it. They showed their solidarity with Mountjoy by airing their laundry too, until the whole neighbourhood was festooned with socks, pajamas and undies.

While the sender of the letter remains unknown, the rest of the town seems pretty jubilant about its laundry. In fact, there’s talk of an annual laundry event.

So here’s to the town of Colyton for letting it all hang out. A dedication: DIRTY LAUNDRY “SAY YES” PINOT GRIS ($17.49).

Now, all I have to do is get my mum to buy some so we can share tasting notes, my fellow inebriates. She’ll say she’s busy doing laundry or something, but I think I can persuade her.