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A celebration of
the clothesline both here in North America and in Spain and Portugal. As a kid, I dreaded laundry day at our home. Invariably, my Mom would want me to help hang out the clothes on our huge rectangular clothesline. Not only was I expected to hang out the family wash, but also to string it in an organized fashion: all the socks paired up and together in a row, towels hung according to size, kids trousers inside out, my Dad's dress pants with a perfect crease, and so on down the lines. My earliest act of childhood rebellion may well have been my haphazard way of hanging the clothes. Did it matter if the undies were next to the socks were next to the trousers were interspersed with the towels? As it was, I was barely tall enough to hang the dreaded billowing sheets. My older sisters must have had that chore. More...» |
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