Monday, March 19, 2012

line of love

When I was growing up all of the old Italians had clotheslines. I played nearby as grandparents and great aunts hung sheets and undergarments out to dry. But they didn't employ the outdoor clothesline exclusively, nope, not with Great Lakes winters, they had indoor clotheslines as well...and I have joined their ranks.

When we moved onto our acre last winter I had grand plans for a clothesline (inside and out) and have now seen half of a dream realized. In a fixer upper house with a new baby every small accomplishment is worth note. As a fabric reclaimist and mother of a baby in cloth diapers, I do a lot of laundry. Getting my indoor clothesline hung has given me one more small joy in life.

I love my indoor line. Stringing from the ironing board to the door, sagging in front of my late  grandmother's picture of The Last Supper, it makes me smile. I have managed to bring the pleasure of fond childhood memories to the basic, and sometimes filthy, chore of doing laundry. Yes!

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