BIG MUCKY CALLING CARDS

One thing about us having a dry afternoon with gales, washing can be quadruple pegged on the line and be battered dry by the forceful winds. Of Course, that doesn't account for our birdie friends who quite like shitting on the washing, in particular, my drying towels. They left their dirty grey mucky calling card on the largest towel, great splashes of it and the towel was bone dry.....typical.
 

So, three hours after it was pegged out the first time, the soggy towel was pegged out again.

It's just gone 8pm and it's light outside, however temperatures have dropped, it is very chilly. I can let the towel blow for a bit longer. Our feathered friends are resting now and are highly unlikely to notify me of anymore visits.

Washing Machine Bushes

TEARS IN THE AIR AND THUMPS ON THE WINDOW

It's 8pm, very bright and chilly outside.  My washing, which the weather forecast told me I could safely put out on the line at tea time, has been blowing and drying in the wind since 5pm. The day has been mostly showery.  There was the odd hour or so gap in rain fall this morning, when at times you could feel there were light tears in the air.  The darkening skies which always arrived, told us that crying clouds were about to rain down.

A thump on the window made us jump just now. A bird has flown into the glass and either knocked itself out or, worse.

THE WASHING LINE.

Most days the washing line has nothing on it. I cannot help but look at it; my eyes are drawn like a magnet to the empty washing line.  A pang of sadness hits me.  For over a quarter of a century, when I saw washing pegged on the line, even if it was raining, blowing a gale or the weather seemed grim,  I knew that the day would improve and that my own washing would be able to be put out later  to flap about in the air to dry. 

My neighbour would be out early morning pinning her laundry on her washing line. In bad weather she wore  a coat with a hood which was pulled over her forehead. Then she would go off to work.  She always got the weather patterns right. There were few days in the year when the flags of sheets, towels and clothes were not there.

Her husband and family were involved in the local youth football team training and playing leagues. At least twice a week there was a sunny backdrop of eleven or twelve bright yellow jerseys and black shorts drying off.  They'd be a credit to any washing product that a detergent manufacturer produced. What a great poster advertisement the football team kit would be, mud free, clean as a whistle and ready to go again.

When the grandchild came into their lives, the washing line was decorated with interesting baby clothes for the third time in its existence. This was in addition to the usual laundry and the football team's practice and match apparel.

Our neighbour died earlier this month. 

http://menhir1.wordpress.com/2014/09/09/living-in-a-neighbourhood/ 

Yesterday when I glanced over, I was happy to see  lots of  domestic washing pegged on the line.  It was comforting. Until it was no longer being actively used, I had no idea just how potent a metaphor for a life the washing line was.

 This one is the 'builders' best' whirly washing line.... said the sales assistant. The other one, you can see has a bigger and longer metal post and you can adjust the height of it.....The sales patter went on about the comparative strengths of the two whirly washing lines... So it's easy to see why 'the builders' best' won't last as long as the other one; if you're lucky you might get use of it for about ten years, whereas the bigger adjustable whirly dryer would probably give you much, much longer use.
 
"Oh really, how long do you think?", fifteen years or a bit more, according to what customers tell us.
That's interesting,we've had the one we are replacing for twenty-six years, and it's the same as your 'builders' best'."......... "Oooh, that's not bad is it."

AIRING A TWIST AND A TURN

We were talking to each other in the hospital waiting room about the run around the weather has given us with trying to get laundry out to to dry.

She agreed and said, "We have a mrrrmmn..."
Her son agreed and said, "Yes we have a "mrrrmmn..."

They did not have local accents.

I queried, "You have a...?"
"Yes" they both replied in unison.
I tried again; "I'm sorry what was it you said you had?"

They said, "A mrrrmmn."

I wondered if there was something wrong with my hearing. Trying again, I asked more specifically, "What was that last word, please."

She said, "M a i d e n, we've got a washing maiden."

Naturally, I wondered what the maiden did, and asked.

"Oh no....it's not a person, it's an airer, an airer on which to air the washing"

This was new use of vocabulary to my ears. My curiosity was stoked up; "Where are you from?"

They were from Lancashire, U.K. and there, where they were from, an airer, or a clothes horse, was a 'washing maiden'.

Looking directly at her, and hoping I smiled benignly, I observed "That's rather sexist."

Looking directly back at me and leaning forward in her wheelchair, with fire in her eyes, the woman said, "Yes it is, isn't it."

I reckon from now on, there'll be no more 'washing maidens' in that house. Notwithstanding, It was such an interesting socially based description, certainly one of its time, and probably a description from a specific village or small town within a large Northern county.

JUST THINK - IT COULD HAVE BEEN WETTER

I thought about photographing the burnt black and torn leaves of my nasturtium plants, the bowed bunches of chives and my urn-shaped strawberry pot, which was being used for a bit of floral colour rather than soft fruit. What is extruding from the urn looks pretty sorry for itself. 

Then I changed my mind about creating pictorial evidence of the havoc wreaked on my plants, because of the storms and the torrents of rain that ripped through this area last weekend.  Instead, I started to tidy up my salad and herb patch as best I could in between more showers of rain.

Meantime, on the washing line, where washing swayed in the wind while the weather looked deceptively promising, with the next unexpected rain fall, the towels got damp and the bedding ended up as wet as it was when originally pegged out to dry. It could have been worse, the washing could have been wetter.
 

(A wash from another time drying in the wind).

A WHIZZING TRIUMPH

There is nothing to post about, said the blank sleepy half of my mind. .... Oh yes there is, said the busy more energetic half. ..... Right clever clogs, what should I blog about then?  The wind of course, what else?.....Lots of places have wind, people know what wind is like .....yes, they do. You have your experience and they have theirs.   I couldn't argue with that logic.  Here is my experience of today's windy conditions.

I fought with the high winds today to get washing onto the line. Having been slapped around the face a few times by wet washing I succeeded in getting the items triple pegged up, then chased after the wash basket and the peg bag as they whizzed down the garden at a rate of knots. 

The wind had got fiercer when the last lot of washing was pegged out on the line. This time, I tried to keep one foot in the wash basket to hold it in place. With one hand I grabbed at the circular washing line; it needed all my strength to hold it. I felt myself being pulled round. The foot in the basket rose, like I was about to do a leg stretch fly-past. I let go of the line and got my two feet placed firmly on the ground. Finding it safer to pick up a garment first with pegs in teeth, I grabbed again at the washing line. Thus, by this method, the job was completed and I chased yet again, at some speed, after the errant wash basket and the peg bag which were making another dash elsewhere.

The problem is, the winds are still very fierce, sounds like gale force has really loudly set in, and I've got to reverse the process, unpeg the washing from the line, make sure it doesn't fly off, and all the while keep myself upright. 

See, said busy mind, I told you so, there's your post. Now go and fight again with the elements. ....... Right, I begrudgingly think, but after that, I am going to let my sleepy mind take over.

WASHING,GARDENING AND BIRDS

The threat of more rain requires me to take urgent action to get washing done and out on the line to dry while Mother Nature is being welcoming.  

I sometimes put out peanuts for the birds, even though this is the more fecund time of year when the birds can forage and find food for themselves.  They are regularly fed in Winter and Spring.  I have a firm belief that this consideration stopped the birds from depositing their calling cards on my washing  during the nesting and fledgling times during the Spring of 2010.  Every year, I have had to remove bird dropping from my drying laundry, but, not this year.

As I hung up the peanut holders for our feathered visitors, I noticed that there was more than a healthy crop of thistles against the fence, which were quite tall and ready to burst into bloom.  They were happily creating and recreating themselves around bunches of weeds and nettles.  Some quick but limited thought was given to dealing with these weed miscreants.  They are not welcome. 

Right,   this post stops here, the next wash load is ready to put out to dry.

 BEING ECONOMIC WITH THE SOAP SUDS.

Today,  in our house, there have been two dishwashers in action on three occasions.  Maybe tomorrow, we can reduce it to two dishwashers doing two washes.