During a recent trip to visit our kids and grandkids, our youngest granddaughter came to the house where we were staying. I wanted to take her on a walk down a path through the woods that led to a little creek. As we started across the yard, something caught her eye.
She asked, “What is that?” I said, “You’ve never seen one of those?” “No.” To her it looked like a strange contraption, and she couldn’t figure what its purpose was. There were two posts shaped like Ts about 20 feet apart with four wires stretched the full length. To someone who had never seen such a thing, I guess it did look a bit odd. I said, “It’s a clothesline.” She responded, “What do you do with it?” I proceeded to explain to her the use of a clothesline and told her about all the years I used one.
My granddaughter saw something strange she had never seen before, but I saw more than two posts and four wires. I was transported to another time where I saw a bag of clothes pins draped over the wire, and pins clipped to my shirt. I saw stiff frozen blue jeans that hung like wooden planks from the line on a cold winter’s day, the breeze struggling to move the heavy weight. I saw a little boy sucking his thumb and holding onto a scrappy silky pillowcase as he stood under the lines. I saw freshly laundered sheets flapping in the breeze. I saw rows of long rectangular diapers blowing in the wind. I saw my mom as she attached another garment to the line, her apron waving gently, pins stuffed in the pockets, as she reached for another wet shirt. I saw clothing hanging limp and heavy in the hot humid weather when it took all day to dry.
I saw a clothes basket under the clothesline in which a bald-headed baby boy sat playing with some toys. When the clothes were dry, we returned with two baskets, one for him and one for the dried clothes. I folded them as I took each item from the line. By the time we got back to the house, the laundry was done, and I had a happy passenger.
Even if I could describe life without a clothes dryer to a generation who knows nothing different, I would still have a hard time describing sleeping in a bed made up with fresh smelling sheets that have blown in the sunny breeze. Nor could I explain that bleach doesn’t necessarily come in a bottle but rather in a brisk breeze on a cold sunny day, the laundry bleached to perfection.
At one time, the clothesline was a necessity. It sure was nice when we got a dryer in the house especially on rainy cold days. I wasn’t too keen on taking frozen jeans off the line and standing them in a corner of the house to thaw.
Though dryers are nice to have, I sure would like to have a clothesline again, if only to hang clean sheets along with a few memories of another time.