Wash day....

Monday has always been wash day for me.  One of the perks of living up on the hill is hanging the clothes out on the line that I string between my south-facing porch posts.  Andy installed screw eyes  on each one and I can extend the line around to the west if need be.

On cool days I go out the south door and sniff.  Any smoke in the air means that I will need to wait awhile until it clears.  Fresh and smoke free wash is what I want.

What a joy it is to hang each sheet and towel up and see it flapping in the wind.  Sturdy clothespins hold them tight to the line until they dry.  My tea towels are old and ragged but I love them.  They still do their job and they enjoy getting bleached and snowy in that welcome sunlight.  

The smell.  Yes, that fresh smell that they try to bottle up in laundry detergent these days.  I have never tried it, but I really don't think I want too.

I would not want to live anywhere that forbids me to string up my clothes line and hang clothes out to dry in the sun.  Sometimes when it rains or is too messy they do go into the dryer.  Not my choice, but a matter of necessity.

So if it is Monday, you know where I will be.  Hanging those sheets and towels and clothes out in the fresh air.  And then the pleasure of sleeping on sun-dried sheets...the best aid to a good night's rest I know.

Washing dishes...

I don't have a dishwasher.  When we planned our house we didn't even make a space for one.  The reason?  I like to wash dishes.

In my family the cooking gene and the dish washing gene skipped a generation.  My mom and Andy's mom were wonderful cooks.  My daughter takes after them.  I, on the other hand, raised Nina on Rice-A-Roni and Chef Boy-ar-dee.  She must have thought that all meals came in a box or a can for a long time.  But now she cooks up a storm and makes delicious meals for her own family.

I came by my love of dish washing honestly.  As a very small girl, probably four or five, my mother would put an apron on me and stand me in a chair at the sink.  And I would wash all the dishes.  I really enjoyed it.  Made me feel like a big girl.

When I played with my dolls I always washed the dishes that I used.  I dried them with a little towel and hung the towel out to dry on a miniature clothesline.  My grandmother was proud of me.  I told her that I could hardly wait to have my own house and children and then I could wash dishes all the time.

My mother disliked cleaning up the kitchen more than anyone I have every known.  She had good reason for this aversion.  Her older sister Rosa would come home from college with new recipes that she wanted to try.  According to my mom, Rosa would dirty every dish in the kitchen and then call my mom in from play to clean up the mess.  My mom was very creative.  She would go upstairs and hide in a closet and read magazines while Rosa called and called her to come and clean up the mess.

I guess early training helps to make household tasks easier.  If you are raised to clean and wash and make the beds, perhaps it will stick with you as you grow up.

So bring on the dishes.  No matter how many or how few, I'm the person to wash them.  

Most of the time...he is right...

Most of you reading this know about my husband Andy.  We have been married nearly 49 years.  And I have come to the conclusion that-yes-most of the time he is right.

The picture above was taken one morning in October at Head of the Meadow Beach on Cape Cod.  We had wanted to experience sunrise on the ocean beach at least once during our stay. We made our way through the darkness to await the first glimmer of daylight, trying to orient ourselves as to what direction we needed to face.  If you have ever tried to get your bearings on an ocean beach, you know that it is not easy.  Especially when you are standing on a beach that seems to be facing the wrong direction and the whole world seems to be backwards and sideways.  Andy, in his wisdom made the arrow you see above, well before the light of day broke on the eastern horizon.  As we waited and I grumbled that I didn't think we would even be able to see anything since we were looking the wrong way, he was confident and as usual, didn't say a thing. 

And then it happened.  Not all at once. But gradually the sky began to light up on the horizon.  And lo and behold...there came the sun!  Beautiful.  I took picture after picture....waves painted with unbelievable colors and clouds lined with gold and red.  On our way back we came to the arrow he had made in the sand.  Andy just stood there, grinning.  Yes, most of the time he is right.  And I'm glad that I have had him with me for almost 49 years to remind me of that fact.

Winter Blue

Down in my eastern field the other day I heard a familiar yet out of place birdcall from the top of a tree.  I stood there for a moment until I spied a shining yellow breast and then the same sweet trill....it was a meadowlark.  She called and called and suddenly from every direction came a few, then many more flashes of yellow and gray and brown as the flock came to light in the bare winter branches.  I was so entranced.  And then, as suddenly as they had come, they lifted their wings and flew away down the hill to the valley.  Only the one bird sang.  The rest were silent.  Usually meadowlarks answer each other.  And they sing and sing and sing.

But it is mid-winter.  It is not the time for nest building, or bird song, or twittering wings among the brown and crumpled leaves left over from fall.  The sky is blue.  Not the blue of fall where light lends it a golden hue and promises rich harvest and cool nights fragrant with smoke, dusted with stars glimmering in the velvet sky.  Not the blue of spring time when lazy puffs of white are blown here and there by winds that find their home in the south.  Not a balmy blue.  And certainly not the hazy blue mixed with heat of the summer sky when the sun blazes and you seek the shelter of the shady grass beneath the green-leafed tree.

This is the true blue of winter matter-of-factness.  It says, "Yes.  I may seem like a gentle sky.  But, take heed.  Bundle up in your coat and put your hat on.  Because I am serious about bringing you some icy winds and hustle-into-the-warmth-of-home days."

I am paying attention to this winter blue sky.  I know that even though spring is just around the corner, we still need to get through the rest of winter.  And then we can look for a different blue sky.