zen in a laundry line

For the last 16 years, I've lived in two houses that have shown signs of a past way of life. In the corner of both my backyards there has been remnants of an old clothesline. Modern conveniences have trumped the ways of the past, and for many years, clotheslines of any kind became nearly extinct, evident only in those yards where families either didn't have a dryer or the elderly who preferred mother nature to hot electric appliances.

For many years I have toyed and yearned for the option of having a clothesline to dry my laundry, and without a long open stretch of yard to house such a line, I've succumbed to the desire of wanting a laundryline with a post. I don't know what has stopped me, kept me from my desire that would have my ten year old self screaming "Of ALL the things you could DESIRE as a grownup, this is the BEST you could come up with???".

Today, my grownup desire became my reality. My first load is out in the backyard, drying in our 30 degree (and climbing) heat. Bliss. Simplicity.

I feel like I've gone retro. Happliy so. There is something quite theraputic about hanging your clothes out to dry in the clean hot air. Something about paying respect to a simpler time, to all the women in years past who hung their clothes out to dry - they really did know best.

Sure, its convenient to throw your linens in the dryer, and there is something comforting about taking out warm pjs to put on on a cold winter night. But today its hot, with a wee breeze. Summer is baking my linens, and sweet ole Mother Nature and I are working together.