When I was little, washing dishes was a shared activity. Washing with my Grandma Swanson in Cloquet, Minnesota, is one of the clear memories I have of her. She said to use really hot water, dried plates and glasses with a cloth — no air-drying. She talked about things — she was the mother for all my father’s teenage friends, the one who made sure they bought corsages for the prom.
Was she a calm person, or is it the hands and arms in warm water that is soothing to everyone? That association will always stick for me.
Note to architects: the kitchen sink must pair with a window.