So I'm waiting, like so many others, for the nice weather. I want to hang my clothes in the sunshine, dig in the soon to be garden, and watch the children play on the swing set.
Well we just put the clothes line up, and its a learning curve. Hey, I grew up with one, but this seems different some how. So yesterday I lug my huge heavy basket of wet clothes up 2 flights of stairs and to the clothes line. It was damp out, and the sun was lost behind this thick vale of clouds. I start. Sort, shake, hang, clothes pin, clip. Sort, shake, hang, clothes pin, clip. I noticed something really quick. It was cold. My fingers were cold. Fast. Bryan was wining about going in. I only had 3 things up. It didn't help to try to go faster. I just fumbled. I was about 3/4 the way done, (1/2 hour later, deserted by my son) when the clothes line made a creak and snap, jumped and shook. Huh? I looked at it. It's lower? Whats going on here? I looked, and couldn't see anything. I reached for another piece of clothing, reached up to string it and then I notice and realize what made the noise. The board it's screwed into is coming away from the post it is in. :( It creaked as I continue to string the clothes up and slide the line along. I envision the board coming loose and flying free, scattering my flesh clean clothes on the ground.
I ran out of pins and had to throw the rest in the dryer. Despite the creaking and groaning, I got up most of it and decided to watch it but leave it. It was still pretty wet by 12:00pm. The creaking boards were holding, so I left it. It was a busy day out of the house all afternoon. As I drove up at 4:00pm I slowed just before I drove into the drive, to peek along the side of the house. It was still holding. The colorful clothes were fluttering in the breeze. It was warm and sunny.
We all rushed into the house for different reasons. The kids took off, and I hurried to put the baby to bed, and go see my clothes. They were mostly dry. I began taking them off. Snap, pull, drop. Snap, pull, drop.
Then it happened. A whiff of fresh laundry off the line. I love that smell
Later in the evening, I got to folding the clothes. As I folded I could smell it. As I slipped my line dried sweeter over my head this morning I could smell it. I was reminded of my hard work yesterday, fresh air, and beautiful sunshine.
So last night Hunny fixed the cloths line, attaching it straight to the bean. So, this morning, I struggled up 2 flights of stairs again with the basket of wet clothes, with the same whinny boy. He stayed out the whole time with me though this morning. Watching and chattering away while I sorted, shook, hung, pinned, and clipped. Over and over until the load was up. My fingers were cold but it seemed so worth it.
It represents so much to me. My moms labor of love, over and over again. I understand now as a mom. It never ends. Just as I tuck the last piece of clean clothing away in a drawer, the full basket of dirty clothes await. It was the same for her.
I remember carefree days as a child. Playing outside, that clothesline full of clothes fluttering in the wind. Crawling into bed as a small child, the clean of fresh line dried sheets, wafting in the air, all around me.
I have wanted a clothes line since Goran and I got married. But the yards were small and there was little room for a clothes line. Honestly, we fought about this thing. He wanted me to be happy, and I wanted a clothes line so bad. So he did it. And I'm so happy. I can do the same for my kids. Snuggle them to bed in my labors of love.
