playing in the breeze...

"True Joy is not in the grand gesture but in the consecration of the moment..." Kent Nerburn

I have such wonderful memories of my mom hanging our clothes out to dry on the clothesline in our backyard. With a family of six, it was a very time consuming task. But she never complained. At least not out loud. It was almost as though she actually enjoyed the ritual. I remember each shirt and sock being carefully pinned to the line with wooden clothespins. When she was done there were rows of cotton and polyester blowing gently in the breeze. As they dried, they stiffened slightly (well, except maybe the polyester) and by the time mom brought them in to fold, they were pretty crispy, but they were sun kissed and smelled like outside. As far as I know, they haven't been able to replicate that smell in a dryer sheet.

I can't remember exactly when I first realized I wanted to get a clothesline for my own backyard but it was fairly recently. It represented something peaceful to me. Of course I probably wouldn't take the time to hang every load, but I thought it would be cool to dry tablecloths and stuff that I had previously been throwing over our patio chairs.

I casually shared this "vision" with Dorothy (my step mother-in-law and friend) over chips and salsa one day. She is famous for remembering things you never knew you said and, come my birthday in June, I rounded the corner to find an umbrella clothesline waiting for me, decorated with little wooden clothespins - ready to go...

Since then I have hung tablecloths and beach towels, duvets and delicates - and found I've learned some things along the way. That there is something therapeutic about watching fabric playing with the breeze and experiencing the sun and air doing what they do best (not to mention the benefit to our environment). I learned that I can take a crummy task like laundry (yuck) and miraculously (those who know me, know it truly IS a miracle :) find something enjoyable in it. That is what happened when I hung my first article on the line (captured above). It brought me back to a simpler time that I find myself longing for lately. My clothesline beckoned me to create a little ritual - to consecrate the mundane. It's a sweet addition to our backyard (although the boys complain that it gets in the way of a wiffle ball game.) and who knows...someday when things slow down a bit, I may actually attempt to hang an entire load...