My mother was the queen of washing. She washed clothes just about every day of her life, even when all the kids were gone and dad had died. And everything was washed differently, with different soaps and bleaches and cycles. Things came out of the wash at different times in the cycle, some to be draped over the radiators, some to be hung to finish drying by the drip dry method, some to be blessed and put in a capsule for Mars for all I know. My sister inherited all those genes.
I don’t use bleach at all as the safer alternative to the disasters that occur if you use the wrong bleach. I have one twenty gallon bottle of detergent for clothes bought in a big box store based on its size versus price. In the eight years I’ve had my current washing machine, I have used exactly one cycle – perma press. I only buy clothes that are safe no matter whether you put them in hot water or cold water or too much water or too little soap or let them spin too long. All my clothes then go in a dryer on the one cycle I use that says more dry or less dry. I always go for more dry on the theory that I don’t want to wear damp clothes.
My life is simple and good this way. But tomorrow I go to my sister’s house and to be honest, it scares me to sleep just one room away from her washer and dryer. I think she might have midnight worship services there I don’t know about.