Once in a while as I sit here in the AR, fingers perched ready to write this blog, I have no idea what I am going to say. But, letters, words, ideas appear on the screen and I’m on my way. At the moment I have wet laundry waiting to be hung in the cellar, so I know I will write about that. Laundry? You say. Not again!
Yes, laundry because it has become an important part of my silence, solitude and simplicity. It is very silent and solitary down there in the basement, just me, my laundry and clothespins. I love hanging each piece, choosing whether it goes on the line or rack. Although it takes more time than throwing everything in the dryer, this homely activity feels simple. Perhaps I’m dreaming of simpler times, back ‘in the olden days’. I admit that there’s a little of that idyllic dreaming, reminiscent of Laura Ingalls Wilder and The Little House on the Prairie (um, must start hanging outside soon).
But when I think of what it took (I know no specifics) to get my gas dryer manufactured, hooked up and functioning, I know I’m onto something simple.
Yes, laundry because it has become an important part of my silence, solitude and simplicity. It is very silent and solitary down there in the basement, just me, my laundry and clothespins. I love hanging each piece, choosing whether it goes on the line or rack. Although it takes more time than throwing everything in the dryer, this homely activity feels simple. Perhaps I’m dreaming of simpler times, back ‘in the olden days’. I admit that there’s a little of that idyllic dreaming, reminiscent of Laura Ingalls Wilder and The Little House on the Prairie (um, must start hanging outside soon).
But when I think of what it took (I know no specifics) to get my gas dryer manufactured, hooked up and functioning, I know I’m onto something simple.