Warm weather makes me want to dry the wash outside on the clothesline. That was my job growing up. Hang the clothes out and bring them in when they were dry. My sister’s job was to fold.
Back then, we didn’t have a clothes dryer, so everything hung on the line outside on sunny days, inside on the back porch line if it was rainy.
Mother washed every day rain or shine, so we’d always have clean clothes. We didn’t have that many.
Every spring I wash our linens and hang them out to dry. I love bringing the smell of the outdoors inside.
We have a king-size quilted bedspread. Heavy thing. Normally, I’d hauled it to a laundromat. But we have a large capacity washer that could handle it now. No rain predicted, it’d dry when I hung it on my umbrella clothesline.
What a keystone cop comedy routine that turned into.
I had to enlist hubby-dear to help me lift the wet quilt to hang it. As soon as the last clothespin went on, the whole clothesline tilted from the weight of the wet bedspread. Then toppled over.
I grabbed the pole and pulled it upright while Hubby-dear searched for rope. He tied the rope to the nearby pine tree, wrapped it around the umbrella pole to counterbalance the quilt’s weight.
Worked like a charm. Looked kinda Beverly Hillbillies weird, though.