Our clothes dryer decided to retire unceremoniously in the middle of a load of clothes on Friday. Oh, and there as another wet ball of laundry in the washer waiting for its turn. Oh, AND we were going away for the rest of the weekend.
After a small panic and a gaze at the mid-day sun just beginning to slink downward, I grabbed my purse and announced that I was going to the hardware store to buy clothesline.
I have to say, I felt pretty crunchy granola as I toted my basket of wet clothes down the line, pinning up shirts and dishtowels and soppy socks. I thought I heard the "Little House on the Prairie" theme song playing somewhere in the distance. I felt a bit nostalgic, too, remembering my mom hanging laundry in our yard on hot days, and how everything came inside a bit stiff, but smelling warm and clean and just like summer in the farmland. A happy smell.
We probably will have to replace our second-hand dryer, if for no other reason that because I'm not sure I can handle wearing clothes that have been blowing around in our pollen clouds all day, but I actually really REALLY liked using the clothes line. I like living in a place where we have enough sun, space, and anonymity to pull this off.
Why is it that so many old-school energy saving practices are so maligned? Rhetorical question. It's because they are associated with poverty and the have-nots. Obviously, anyone who could afford a dryer or a trip to the laundromat would opt to use electricity. Honestly, I would too if we had more than two people's laundry to do. But I hope that enviro-nerds like me can help change that stigma. Because there is a weird sort of satisfaction from letting the sun and the breeze do some housework. And a great inner smirk from watching your neighbors watch you clip your socks one by one to a piece of rope in your backyard. I highly recommend it.
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