Blowin' in the wind

My husband bought me a clothesline for Valentine's Day.

It's not what you think -- I asked for it. I have three small children, a husband who changes clothes rather more frequently than average, and frequent houseguests. The towels and sheets alone are enough to keep me busy in the laundry department, never mind 5 pairs of pajamas per night if we all get sick at the same time. I despised the huge amount of energy I was using to dry all that laundry. But even more, I hated how my dryer was slowing me down -- the washer takes about 35 minutes per load, but the dryer was taking over an hour, depending on the contents.

So, he bought me a retractable clothes line, and he installed it just outside our back door. When it's extended, it hangs between our house and the adjacent pecan tree outside our kitchen window.

I worried at first that the fully-laden line would be an eyesore. And I was less than thrilled at the prospect of my neighbors eyeing my damp undies. But I soon discovered that creative hanging can obscure my unmentionables, especially if you wedge them between something boring like t-shirts and bath towels. And I learned to appreciate the sight and the smell of clean clothes hanging neatly in the sunshine. It looks homey, and fills me with a sense of accomplishment. Of all the tasks I perform each day in my roles as wife, mother, cook, teacher, accountant, referee and, of course, laundress, this is one of the few that yields results I can see and touch. And smell.