Thoughts on Hanging Out the Wash

Of all the daily chores, the one I probably mind the least is hanging out the wash. Whether from my small garden in Beersheva, my backyard in Terre Haute, or my balcony in Bangkok, I feel a sense of unity with women across time and place. My mother, grandmothers, great grandmothers all pinned laundry on various types of lines to dry in the sun. Women in Kenya, Turkey, Bolivia, Australia, Ireland do the same. The items on the line may look quite different, but our purpose is the same. We are women, taking care of our families.

Sometimes I get the chance to hang the laundry while the morning is still cool. I enjoy listening to the morning birds coo and warble. In the heat of the day, it's not so pleasant, but I still take the opportunity to watch a squirrel gathering leaves and grass to build a nest. The kids like to take advantage of playing somewhere that's usually off limits. I do have to pay attention that Simeon doesn't try to climb up the railing and fall over the side, but his sisters usually watch out for him. I have lost a few clothes pins by Simeon throwing them into the overgrown lot next door.

No matter what the rest of the day holds, I at least get outside twice a day. Except for when it rains, in which case, the price of having to hang clothes in the way inside is worth the cooler temperatures. On days when I don't have a full load of clothes, diapers need to be washed and hung. Or someone has a an accident or makes a mess that necessitates an immediate washing. If the washing machine is available for a day or I can get two load done in a day, there's always towels and sheets waiting for a turn. Since I need a free laundry basket to lug laundry out to the line, I am motivated to keep up on folding and putting away. Otherwise, I'd have clean clothes dumped on to the floor which would not stay clean and neat for long.

Even having to run out at the beginning of a rain storm to bring in laundry has its excitement. The girls are all very good at asking me if I have laundry up at the first sign of rain. I'm better at reading the clouds than I otherwise would be. I'm usually right when I note that those clouds won't dump on us or it looks like rain is heading this way. On the other hand, sometimes I am wrong, and it starts to rain just as I've spent the last fifteen minutes hanging up laundry and have one sock left. Grrr! That's the worst.

In the evening, sometimes I'll slip upstairs by myself to take down laundry while the kids are in the shower. It's so peaceful up there. I look at the moon, planets, and stars; watch the bats flit around, until I hear someone calling for me. Often I'll pray, sometimes I'll sing, even dance. Other times I just enjoy the connectedness, my laundry line reaching across time and space to yours.