There is something about hanging out and taking in the laundry. I’ve had a flu and my laundry piled up. It got me thinking about my mom and the many many lines of clothes she washed and hung out when we were kids. Here’s a tribute to all the hard working momma’s slaving for their families. Original 12×12 Acrylic
This poem by Marilyn Walker certain tells the laundry story very well.
A Clothesline Poem
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 upon the line;
You’d see the company tablecloths, 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 also 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 washing was dingy grey,
As neighbors carefully raised their brows, and looked disgustedly away.
But clotheslines now are of the past, for dryers make work much 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 was hanging on the line.
by Marilyn K. Walker
Inspired by The Clothes-Line ~ Helen Allingham ~ (1848-1926)