It's been a busy day, catching up on the inevitable office work, accounts etc, but as the weather was bright this morning I thought I had better wash the two quilts I acquired last week. Sadly the couple of marks on them didn't wash out, but they certainly look fresher and I am sure will sell fairly well. They are now spread on the maiden in the spare bedroom finishing drying and airing out nicely. When I gathered in the washing today and yesterday I was wafted back several years to when my children were small and had been playing outside on dry autumn days, remembering the delightful aroma that came back inside with them of autumn days, conkers and toffee apples. It was this aroma that was encapsulated in my laundry as I brought it inside and reminded me of such delights. I love to see the clothes blowing on the line, the arms and legs filling with invisible limbs by the wind waving and kicking in delight as they fly whilst held securely by their pegs. It used to be that my mother always did her laundry on a Saturday, getting uniforms ready for the next weeks school, and I loved helping peg the clothes on the line, and helping my grandmother who lived in a annexe to our home using the mangle to squeeze out the excess water from her hand washed items, I don't think she ever had a washing machine and certainly didn't use ours, even though it would have saved her masses of time. But then time was not an issue, there was plenty of it and you used it as and when you wished, not like now where time is at a premium and every second must be used not wasted. Thats one of my reasons behind my musings, that I sit and contemplate the delights of my life and share those with people who may be interested, literally picking up the threads and bringing the important memories back to the fore not left in a heap in the corner.
Still that's enough from me, I will be back again tomorrow,thank you joining me and please have a wonderful day wherever in the world you are.
Siwzy
Laundry
All our life
so much laundry;
each day’s doing or not
comes clean,
flows off and away
to blend with other sins
of this world. Each day
begins in new skin,
blessed by the elements
charged to take us
out again to do or undo
what’s been assigned.
From socks to shirts
the selves we shed
lift off the line
as if they own
a life apart
from the one we offer.
There is joy in clean laundry.
All is forgiven in water, sun
and air. We offer our day’s deeds
to the blue-eyed sky, with soap and prayer,
our arms up, then lowered in supplication.
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