I don’t know what it is, but I love doing laundry. I guess there’s something meditative in the way we learn to sort the clothes by color and texture, check the pockets, add the proper amount of detergent, set the temperature of the water, shake out the wrinkles and lint from the wet clothes, sort the line dry items according to size, fold every wash cloth and towel just so, iron the shirts, hang the pants with the creases aligned….
I learned about laundry in my great grandmother’s wash house where she kept a high shelf of bluing, lye, bleach, starch, and White King D. There were concrete wash tubs with built in scrub boards, a space to set a fire, a water heater, a boiler for boiling the clothes, a wringer machine, and an automatic new-fangled electric washer.
Doing the wash also meant keeping the machines clean inside and out and also sweeping and mopping the floor in case a clean item should happen to fall. There were woven reed baskets for sorting, a special cart with wheels lined with canvas, measuring cups, galvanized wash tubs, coat hangers, and canvas bags of clothes pins that could be scooted along the lines ahead of the hanging procedure.
In the way old days the women used a pump to fetch the water and clothes were washed according to the dirtiness and color of the cloth. Beginning with whites and working down to the dirty brown and blue dungarees of the men who worked the fields. You wouldn’t want to change that water too frequently if you had to carry it.
I remember what seemed to be acres – twelve long lines of clothes hanging in order by color and size on the lines with clothes pegs carved out of wood. People could judge you and your family on your laundry day.
- Sheets should be hung by the corners with the pillow cases following in order.
- Shirts should be hung by the tail – never the shoulders-makes it harder to iron out.
- Under things (especially women’s stockings, slips, and unmentionables) should be decorously hidden behind the outer clothes on interior lines or hung in the bathroom on a special drying rack in the privacy of the bathroom.
The wind and the sun of would do the job of drying and sanitizing the clothes. The line-dried clothes smelled and felt so fresh and clean – no need for perfumery additives. One more step was needed… hours and hours spent at the iron or mangle. This was my grandmother’s job – pressing each and every article including socks and grandad’s under drawers.
When my brothers were born, I was ten years old. Lucky for my mom I liked doing laundry. I would wash one load, hang it up to dry, put in another load to wash, and in that short time the first load of diapers were dry and ready for folding. With two babies in diapers, I quickly became an expert. When my own children were born they too had the benefit of line dried cloth diapers.
I still love the act of doing laundry. You may see me with my little cart balancing a load and heading for the laundry room… Although I have developed an allergy to ironing, I still hang out a line of sheets or towels occasionally to dry in the sun. Let’s all say, “Om…”
(First published 8/7/12)
