Hi Linda,

Oh how I remember that clothesline!! Actually, I really miss it! We live in town now with a neighborhood association, and they think it's "improper" to see clean clothes hanging on a line. Even stringing a line to hang wet bathing suits is frowned upon and must be kept lower than the backyard fence! 

But I miss standing there with my basket of clean laundry, my bag of clothespins in the little bag that would hang on the line so you could push it to the next section with ease, and just "time" to dream or think about the days' activities. The smell of clean bedsheets and towels was perfume to me. The warm sunshine on my face and arms kept me looking healthy, the bending and stretching kept me trim, and the time to myself kept me sane! 

I always could tell if the family needed new underwear by looking at the condition of the undershirts or socks I carefully pinned to the line. I kept an eye on the fading of jeans and the hung the color things in the shade to avoid fading. "Dainties" were always hung in the middle of the line to avoid being ogled by anyone passing my backyard. And extra large loads often found two pieces of laundry meeting with only one pin to hold them so I could stretch my supply of pins. Of course, when new pins were finally purchased, the old ones were used only as a last resort, but never thrown away.

Standing there with a bulging load of wash to hang meant time to myself. From the time I had to tip toe to reach the lines, I found it one chore I'd rather be doing than washing dishes or sweeping. With two brothers and a sister, it meant a few precious moments to be alone. As I became a teenager it gave me time to dream of all the tomorrows in my life. When I was a young bride, I found myself standing there smiling at the future with the man of my dreams. With a family of my own, I often used the time to figure out budgets or plan meals or just let my mind drift with the clouds above. Now I'm a Grandmother with a much smaller load of clothes to do, but no where to hang them!! 

I wonder if living in townhomes and condo's is really worth the convenience?! After all, I could still use some sunshine on my soul and clothespins in my pocket!

Hugs to my best Ohio friend,
Sheila

"The Dan Parks Version"

From the man's view point;

The laundry does smell good after hanging out on the clothesline... the nice warm summer breezes and that glorious sunshine. And hanging out the wash saves some money. Clothes dryers aren't cheap to operate.

But clothesline maintenance is a real pain. The wires start sagging and so you get your tools together and head for the back yard. You crank away on the turn buckles, and you're feeling pretty good. You've got the wires so tight that you can plunk on them, and it sounds like strings on a heavenly harp. I've been known to be able to play "Moon River" on the clotheslines when I got through tightening them. But just about the time you get all the wires good and tight, your wife comes out with a big load of laundry and there goes the lines again... sagging almost to the point where the clothes are touching the ground. And the little woman's response; "You've got to get it tighter than that!"

And then the dog comes along to play with these neat things his mistress has hung out for him to play with. And "rip"... there goes that new sheet we just bought. And the birds love to sit on those nice long wires, especially when there are fresh clothes hanging on them. And you know what happens next.

How many times have we men heard the old refrain, "Oh honey, I just hung out the laundry and it's starting to rain!!" "Would you go bring it in for me, pleeease?" Kissy, kissy. "Oh, alright, but next time make sure it's not going to rain before you hang things out!" Grumble, grumble. We guys are always
suckers for the kissy, kissy thing.

And then the wind comes up unrepentantly. And there goes half the laundry, over the fence into the neighbor's yard. And you know those dainties; they fly the furthest. And who has to retrieve them? You guessed it... So here comes the mocho man, red faced, with those dainties jammed into his pockets so no one will see them. And somebody always does.

Or how about the times when the little wife gets the laundry done, but just can't get the energy to hang it out. "Oh honey, would you pleeeeease hang out the laundry for me?" Kissy, Kissy, again. So there we go, a basket of dainties under one arm and a bag of close pins under the other. And we never can quite figure out which way they are supposed to hang. Do you hang thrm from the waist or the side or the crotch? I don't know. And how about those brazeeers? Do you hang it from one end or a pin at each cup or do you use four close pins, one for each cup and one at each end? I don't know.

Now most clothing is quite easy to figure out. For example, everyone knows that you hang a pair of pants from each end of the pant legs, spread eagle like. And towels can either be hung along the length or, if you're running out of close pins, hang them from one corner with one pin. That works. And shirts hang quite nicely from the collar, one pin at each tip of the collar. That works. But for some unknown reason, women's clothing, especially the unmentionables, have some kind of special rules that us men are not privy to. And regardless of how careful we are, checking over all the fences to make sure no one is in an adjoining yard before we start hanging them up, just about the time we are standing there with a pair of undies held up to the line, pinning the crotch to the wire, there's old what's-his-name hanging over the fence chuckling that evil "he-he" kind of laugh he uses that makes you feel like a real idiot and saying, "What ya dooooing neighbor?"

Now drying time is another problem. With a clothes drier, you just take the clothes out of the washer in one big lump, throw them into the drier in one big lump, and set the timer for about an hour and you're done. Simple. But with clothes on a line, it's entirely another thing. "Honey, would you pleeeease go out to the clothesline and see if the clothes are dry yet?." Kissy, kissy. "And while you're out there, if they're dry, bring them in for me?" And there we go again. Sucker!!! And of coarse, they're always dry. When the little woman goes out to check them, guess what? They're not dry yet. They're only dry when the guy goes out to check them. Hmmm, I wonder?? No, she wouldn't do that, would she. Nah! Now how about the convenience of taking the dry clothes out of the dryer. For one thing, you always know when they're dry because that irritating buzzer sounds. So you just go to the dryer and open the door and take them out and put them in a pile on the closest bed or couch for your wife to fold and put away. And even if they're not completely dry, it's close enough. They'll finish drying while lying where you put them.

Compare that with the line-dried clothes. You've got to take them down, put the clothes pins in the bag and fold each item as you take them down and put them neatly in the clothes basket. That's terribly time consuming and you can never, I say NEVER, fold them quite the way your wife wants them folded. As for me, I like my towels folded lengthwise three or four times and then in half. Or is it, three or four times width wise and then in half. Oh, it doesn't matter, just get them folded whichever way is the quickest.

Yeah, give me a close drier any time! They're convenient, they're easy to use, and they do a good job. If its aroma you're looking for, that's what those little tissues with fragrance on them are for. I always forget to put them in, but I don't go for fragrance anyway. I like my clothes to smell like a man. All you have to do is to throw the clothes in, turn on the timer and you're done. Those other settings don't really matter. The heavy duty dry setting will handle anything you can throw in there.

It's a wonderful thing, the clothes dryer!!

Thank you, Dear Friends, for your stories!!!