laundry | Love, Laughter, and Life

February 3, 2019
by Angie Leave a comment

Irony: The Clothesline

Clothesline, Wash, Farm, To Wash Clothes

Image from Pixabay.com

Irony (noun)

2 a (1): incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result (Merriam-Webster, 2019)

There are three options for rescuing neglected metal clothesline poles. Not the wimpy aluminum, bendy sort; but the solid, steel, withstand heavy-duty sleeping bags and families of wet jeans type.

I watch for these opportunities. For case 1 and 2, the clothesline poles are clearly not in use. Besides the lack of actual line strung between poles, each one of the poles in on opposite sides of a 6-foot fence. This is not conducive to the drying of clothes.

For case 3, the location of said poles is just off a parking lot, in the middle of, well, basically nowhere.

None of these clothesline poles are being used, when in fact, they would all be happy in my neck of the woods. I would be quite overjoyed to adopt a set of metal twins and bring them into my family.

I tell you this, but the man is not so sure we should knock on the door of individuals we do not know and ask for permission to dig up, haul, and relocate said harbingers of summer laundry season.

Here’s the irony.

In the backyard of our lower valley home, we had THE best clothesline. It served us well for many years. Until we sold our home and moved north. One doesn’t know to take along the clothesline. For future want.

Several years and moves later, we lived in an older home with a postage stamp backyard. No clothesline. Et voila! Our son and daughter-in-law, having purchased a home with some space, were the owners of a set of clothesline poles. Unneeded clothesline poles. How that can be true, I have no idea. But at that time, it was true.

We were gifted the clothesline poles. Yay for me! The man figured how to wrangle a decent clothesline in our minuscule backyard, tucked behind the old shed. Perfect! I loved doing laundry and hanging it to dry on my clothesline.

Fast forward. We sold our home, bought an RV, and moved to-wait for it-our son and daugther-in-law’s home. Not a permanent move, but in order to work on building our own small home. Our residence here has stretched longer than we planned, but that’s what happens sometimes.

And the clothesline poles? The ones that were originally here? They are there. At the old home. And I am back to not having a clothesline.

Funny thing, irony. If we had been slower to add the new clothesline at the old house, we would have a clothesline here. Read this post to see the ironic clothesline.

Anyone need to get rid of a clothesline?

Image from Pixabay.com

January 3, 2017
by Angie 12 Comments

The Sweater of a Thousand Photos

The sweater of a thousand photos joins me as I corral and snuggle our 5 grands!

New beginnings.

January always brings fresh hope and promises of renewed dreams, goals, plans.

View the sweater of a thousand photos.

This wardrobe piece awaits my beck and call all hours of the day and night. Menopause requires layers. And this, my Goodwill find from years past, is perfect. Cold? Snuggle in this button-up baby. Hot? Fling it across the room without any answering complaints. Fold it. Wad it. Wash it. Toss it. Wear it. Love and hate it.

From my viewpoint, the sweater of a thousand photos matches every item of clothing I own. Because I wear it with any and every thing. Coordinating or not.

As evidenced by photos. At least 1,000 of them.

Life in the RV has finally taken its toll. Laundry facilities are stranded across compacted snow and ice trails inside the stick house of our son and his family. Sometimes one forgets to empty the dryer on time. Usually that is ok. But just this once, it was not.

For the sweater of a thousand photos has been damaged. Heated too long and too hot. The yarns melted into permanent wrinkles. Never before static cling haunts attempts at layering. What once was fuzz and softness is now thin and bare. The sweater of a thousand photos, MY sweater, the $2 deal, is nearing the end.

My heart is sad but realizing the futility of wearing holes and wrinkles held together with bits of yarn. It is time to move on. Let it go. Wave a fond farewell, not looking back.

Unless it is in photos.

New beginnings come in different forms. Out with the old, in with the new. Or maybe new-to-me.

The hunt has begun. This year, I resolve to capture the next sweater of a thousand photos. The search will be in reverse order, according to hunting aficionados, but this works well for clothing.

Hunt. Bag. Shoot.

What will you be hunting this year?

April 13, 2016
by Angie 2 Comments

The Inaugural Run

The inaugrual clothesline run. Success!

By Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell

It was a successful inaugural run…for my brand new recycled clothesline.

Until now, several factors have discouraged this celebratory occasion.

We have a tiny backyard.

The project resisted efforts towards completion.

Time kept on slipping, slipping, slipping.

Do you know how hard it is to find poles for clotheslines?

Today, may I introduce you to my tiny yard, brand new, recycled clothesline?

Pleased to meet you.

Our son had an old clothesline pole hanging out on their property. This treasure came complete with a cross bar (which my husband dropped on his head; his next gift is going to be a safety helmet – and I am not kidding) and rings for the lines.

We had to anchor the opposite side of the clothesline to the garage which required us to angle the entire clothesline. Do you now how hard it was to make it NOT square and straight? Using the garage as the second pole was due to lack of a second clothesline pole and a lack of space.

Our one available section of yard is only about 6 feet wide. It hides behind the garden shed and is almost beneath, gasp, the powerlines. Where the birds sit.

In spite of the challenges and possible necessity of rewashing bird-soiled items, I am so pleased and excited to use the clothesline.

Hurray for fresh air, crunchy clothes, and a lower gas bill.