Lost art

Hanging laundry is a lost art.
In our development, of 90+ houses, there are maybe three houses with "wash lines". There are many developments that don't even permit them. They seem to have become a white trash trailer park symbol. Gee, we hang our laundry because we can't afford to run the dryer.

I wouldn't trade mine for anything in the world.

Is there any site that evokes more memories of childhood than laundry hanging on the line? I can remember trailing along behind my mom and grandmother when they hung the laundry. Yes, I was white trash. So what?
Is there anything better than the yummy smell of a bed freshly made with fresh air dried sheets?
No dryer sheet could ever come close.
Know why it is a lost art? It takes time. Precious time. You have to slow down to do it. It takes longer than simply throwing the wash from the washer into a dryer. It takes time to air dry. It takes time to remove them from the line. Of course society doesn't have that time anymore.
One of the reasons I enjoy it so much? It takes time. Forces me to slow down. I thoroughly enjoy standing out there taking in the sunshine. The birds are singing. The breeze is blowing. So much more enjoyable than my tiny laundry room void of non-lint filled air. When I hang the laundry, I am out there alone with my thoughts. No interupptions. No distraction. So for a few minutes, I can savor the aloneness, before I come back into the house and the commotion of my family.
Yeah, I know I am abnormal. Just as I hang all the clothes on the line by family member so when I remove them to fold they go into neat little piles...but we won't get into that! I will write my Oprah-ism of society lecture tomorrow when I write about The Sweet Spot book. I know society tells me I should want more than laundry lines and flowers out of life. But right now I am pretty content with what I have. How dare I?


Had to share this picture. These are the flowers my mother-in-law gave me for Easter. We went to the nursery Sunday and picked them out. She took some home too. They are called osteopernum. Or as we have been refering to them, the osteoporosis flowers! Teehee. I thought it was just the therapist in me that thought of that right away, but everyone has said it! It is hard to tell in the picture but they are a gorgeous yellow color with purple around the center. They close up in the evening, then open again in the morning. The only disappointing thing is that they are annual. So will not be back next year. Why I have never seen them before I will never know. Maybe I just assumed they were gerberas and walked on by.
*sigh Been doing that a lot lately.