How white the Monday laundry
against a bright blue sky of summer
hung from a clothesline stretching
from a third floor window to the telephone pole
watching grandma hang the clothes
my feet pushing on the treadle
while sitting at her ancient sewing machine
“Non giocare con la machina!”
Her wrinkled hands now leaning on the sill
looking out across a yard of grass
forbidden to tenants of the third floor
no dogs or puppies allowed
perhaps dreaming of her mother’s small garden
the few chickens, almond trees and wild flowers
good things that may return some day
if not for her, perhaps for me.
A sigh a turn and then a smile
as we together water geraniums
in a window box erasing the gloom
from the brown bricks of a Brooklyn tenement.
.
http://tlt-swg.blogspot.com/2011/11/why-i-no-longer-teach-online-bunge.html
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Very nice!
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Here in New Zealand, everyone (except for the filthy rich) hangs their washing out in the back yard. They do it not so much for environmental reasons, but out of a sense of frugality and working class consciousness. Even if they could afford to run a clothes dryer, they wouldn’t want their neighbors to see them as wasteful.
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Heehee – We’ve come a long way doc. In vast areas of the suburbs, including where live now, clothes lines outdoors are banned. Too unsightly I guess.
🙂
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We have a rotary drying line in the garden, and use it when it isn’t raining. So not that often!
I remember lines of washing like this across streets in London. They got the washing much whiter and cleaner back then too, without the benefit of biological washing powders, and electronic washing machines.
I used to have the job of turning the handle of my Grandmother’s mangle on wash-days, squeezing out the excess water.
Nice memories Frank, and well-expressed as always.
Best wishes, Pete.
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