Life without a clothes dryer...
Back in the '50's, things were a leetle different than they are now. I was a kid in Cleveland, living with mom and dad in a three room apartment above a corner bar. My 'world' was a Murphy bed in the living room that was reached by moving the coffee table and opening two 'magic doors'...and poof, all my treasures were exposed.
Since we lived where we did, laundry day was an adventure. Mom had an old Maytag wringer washer (to her it was new) and in the winter time the only thing to do with freshly washed clothes was to hang them...in the basement. Since, by the time I was ten or eleven, I was taller than Mom, she taught me how to do it 'cause she worked and didn't have time to fool around with a kid who said 'it ain't my job.' Besides, I was 'helpful'...at times and there was no one else around that I could pass it off to. Not to mention...we didn't own a clothes dryer.
Now, 60 years later, we still don''t own a clothes dryer. The 'we' has changed to
Sylvia and me...but the 'reason' has changed. We can afford one, but don't have the space. Washer? Yes. Dryer? No. And Sylvia, like Mom, likes the 'smell of fresh clothes.' In New England makes as much sense as it did in Cleveland...but I'm a guy and what do I know. Anyhow...
Since Sylvia had her 'accident', I've had the 'opportunity' to become an clothes washer/hanger extraordinaire. Nice weather/outside. Not nice weather/inside...on racks in the 'front room'. Deja vu.
On thing my mamma taught me, was that when you take something out of the washer, shake it out...because if you don't you'll have that much more 'ironing' to do. It's one of the lessons I learned that I can apply to 'daily living'. I 'look ahead'
in the present so that I don't have so much work to do in the 'future'. It's EZier that way. Paying attention to what I'm doing works well.
Since we lived where we did, laundry day was an adventure. Mom had an old Maytag wringer washer (to her it was new) and in the winter time the only thing to do with freshly washed clothes was to hang them...in the basement. Since, by the time I was ten or eleven, I was taller than Mom, she taught me how to do it 'cause she worked and didn't have time to fool around with a kid who said 'it ain't my job.' Besides, I was 'helpful'...at times and there was no one else around that I could pass it off to. Not to mention...we didn't own a clothes dryer.
Now, 60 years later, we still don''t own a clothes dryer. The 'we' has changed to
Sylvia and me...but the 'reason' has changed. We can afford one, but don't have the space. Washer? Yes. Dryer? No. And Sylvia, like Mom, likes the 'smell of fresh clothes.' In New England makes as much sense as it did in Cleveland...but I'm a guy and what do I know. Anyhow...
Since Sylvia had her 'accident', I've had the 'opportunity' to become an clothes washer/hanger extraordinaire. Nice weather/outside. Not nice weather/inside...on racks in the 'front room'. Deja vu.
On thing my mamma taught me, was that when you take something out of the washer, shake it out...because if you don't you'll have that much more 'ironing' to do. It's one of the lessons I learned that I can apply to 'daily living'. I 'look ahead'
in the present so that I don't have so much work to do in the 'future'. It's EZier that way. Paying attention to what I'm doing works well.
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