painting by John Sloan
Hung Out to Dry
“There is nothing like the smell of crisp linen right off
the line.”--Shelby Lynn.
Old fashioned
clothes lines
conjure fond memories.
I remember my mother
standing by the clothes lines
in our back yard,
willing to be designated
as a housewife,
holding her wicker basket
of wet sheets and such,
a red farmer’s handkerchief
tied over her hair, wearing
yellow pedal-pushers
and a floral print sleeveless blouse,
large red roses on a black background,
with a woven satchel full
of wooden clothes pins
tied around her thin waist,
shaking the moisture
out of every garment,
before pinning it on a rope line.
Later she used colorful
plastic rope lines.
Her favorite laundry days
were those with sunny skies,
but with a brisk breeze.
In the 60’s, when
she got an electric dryer,
she still preferred hanging
them outside to dry.
“I like the way they smell,
so natural, no chemicals,
no perfumes.”
I do not see many clothes lines
in back yards any more,
just spinning electric meters,
and long lines at laundromats.
I do enjoy seeing photos
of bright colored garments
hanging on droopy lines
in crowded European cities;
and I wonder how many of them
have electric dryers
in their apartments?
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub
17 comments:
We don't use the dryer a lot... but our clotheslines are inside in the laundry room. I felt inspired to get some clotheslines outside.
I like how this painting sent you down memory lane.
Even when I was little we had a clothes dryer. I think my mom was happy not to have to hang clothes up on a line anymore.
We chose the same painting!💝 This is gorgeously woven .. with a hint of nostalgia and awe as you take us down memory lane. I especially relate to; "In the 60’s, when she got an electric dryer, she still preferred hanging them outside to dry." Sigh. Here in Karachi, there are very few people who are in possession of an electric dryer .. it's not common here. So I, along with many others, still hang laundry outside to dry!💝
Glenn, we often lose much in the relentless push of productivity, forgetting the joy to be gained in repeating mundane gestures that evoke memory and sensory perception. We are looking for a way to slow down and connect and forget that it doesn't always involve exotic locations, majestic nature, or adventure but simple domesticity, approached with an air of reverence.
i stll do hang my laundry outside when the weather lets me. nothing like the feel next to the skin.
Glenn, I love you wrote about your mother hanging clothes outdoors in the breeze to dry. I also have sweet memories of helping hang laundry .. when I grew old enough to reach the lines. Until, that is, I turned into a teenager and put up a bit of a fuss. Still helping.
Glenn, I don't think you have written very often about your mom. I was happy to read about her and the vividly remembered way she was dressed and went about her housewifely chore. It makes me think of my grandma and mom hanging clothes out. They were good teachers as I've continued the practice. And yes, I have a dryer but it is used only sparingly except in winter.
Beautiful and pleasant remembrances.
I used to help my mother hang out the wash...I loved the smell of it. Your words bring it all back.
You still see lines hung across fire escapes in the city. Although I'm not sure what the wash ends up smelling like!
Vintage washing day. A lovely lookback Glen.
Happy you dropped by my blog
Much love...
This put tears in my eyes Glenn, because these are the memories I wish I had my friend. So much tension until dad got home. As a child, I saw wet laundry slung over age-stained tight-braid rope lines, by a certified paranoid schizophrenic old lady, cursing at the neighbors, often at the top of her voice, while my mom sat sullenly in the house. When dad finally did get home from work, he would quietly go into the backyard, straighten the tangle to a neat hang. I would come down out of the garage attic where I hid many days, unless I had fled to one of my friend’s homes in the neighborhood. I would hug dad’s strong leg while he went about the task. When I got older I would help. Finally there was a dryer.
Oh, we have clotheslines outside mostly! Very few use dryers here.
What wonderful memories.
When the economies of the western block collapse we'll see those washing lines coming back, along with wearing jumpers indoors in winter and adopting a more sustainable diet.
A lovely reminiscence, and a great social commentary on the manmade nature of our times. I agree with your mother! The sight and smell of fresh laundry on the line has something so uplifting and hopeful about it :-)
In Spain, I always dried outside! Here in the UK, it isn't often an option...I do wonder what people did here before the advent of the tumble dryer?
This brings delightful memories of my childhood's sunny back yard and mom hanging the wash, which she soon taught me to do! Thanks, Glenn, for the lovely details you painted.
Proud to be a housewife, making her stand, determined to continue the tradition facing disruption...a woman wiser than she knows, and knew a wonderful woman, proud to be...
I love the details in your memories of your mother. I remember clothes
lines very well. And yes, clothes do smell better fresh off the line.
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