I remember when we got our first clothes dryer, which I'm sure was a huge relief to my mom who spent years hanging freshly washed clothes (and thousands of freshly washed cloth diapers; there were four of us kids). But even with the dryer she still hung clothes on the line if the weather permitted. I loved going to bed and having sheets fresh off the line to lie down on; there is no fabric softener or dryer sheet that smell as fresh and clean.
My younger sister and I, along with the neighbor girls, would swing our Saturdays away on the swing set in the backyard, singing to the top of our lungs "Found A Peanut" song; pumping our legs to swing higher and higher to see over the clothesline filled with the weekend laundry.
When my children were small I had a clothesline put up in my backyard to hang the laundry, and enjoyed seeing their tiny clothes hanging between the sheets swaying in the breeze. When my son was about two years old I had just taken a laundry basket of freshly washed sheets out to the line to dry, he was playing nearby with his new shovel. I had just hung up the first sheet and came around to get the next one, and there he was shoveling red clay dirt right on top! If you are familiar with North Carolina clay, you know this is not something you can just brush off! Oh well, I have to smile at the memory now.
The Clothesline Said So Much
A clothesline was a news forecast
To neighbors passing by.
There were no secrets you could keep
When clothes were hung to dry.
It also was a friendly link
For neighbors always knew
If company had stopped on by
To spend a night or two.
For then you'd see the fancy sheets
And towels on the line;
You'd see the company table clothes
With intricate design.
The line announced a baby's birth
To folks who lived inside
As brand new infant clothes were hung
So carefully with pride.
The ages of the children could
So readily be known
By watching how the sizes changed
You'd know how much they'd grown.
It also told when illness struck,
As extra sheets were hung;
Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe, too,
Haphazardly were strung.
It said, "Gone on vacation now"
When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged
With not an inch to spare.
New folks in town were scorned upon
If wash was dingy gray,
As neighbors raised their brows,
And looked disgustedly away.
But clotheslines now are of the past
For dryers make work less.
Now what goes on inside a home
Is anybody's guess.
I really miss that way of life.
It was a friendly sign
When neighbors knew each other best
By what hung on the line!
Author: Marilyn K. Walker (http://susie1114.com/Clothesline.html)
