35/365 Laundry

Sheets drying in the hot hot breeze. As long as I get them in before the thunderstorm, everything works fine. It's been raining a lot here, and everywhere. But I sneak out and hang things when I can.

I put a line up the first summer we lived here, running from the back porch to the back gate. But it was under a tree and didn't work very well. It came down the third summer and went across the yard, in the sunshine, about 4 feet from the back fence. Two parallel lines, actually, because I had so many diapers to dry.

But it was so far away. About two years ago I took it down and zig-zagged a line from the deck to the Navarros' fence next door. That worked perfectly until the euonymous bush got so tall and wide that it took up too much of the line. Plus I'd need a ladder to affix it to the fence this year. So this year it wanders around the yard, behind the pool, the swingset, across to the porch and fence, looping around trees that weren't even there when I put up the first line.

Living here long enough, and having a fair certainty that I will continue to live here, does a lot of good for my psyche. I know it's silly to relate how I put wash out to dry to how I live, but this trial and error and not just doing it the same way all the time even if that way sucks is a minor note on a page of examples of how stability has made me smarter and more relaxed and better at being who I am.

But now I'm turning this into a post that belongs on another blog. So I'll leave it at that.