I suppose I haven’t had the chance yet to tell you about my laundry-related frustrations this winter? No? Well, allow me to do so now.
This winter, I felt for the first time the sly cruelty of nature when it comes to laundry. It usually goes like this: I wake up in the morning to a merry ray of sunshine and a clear blue sky with some puffy white clouds, which convinces me that today, after weeks of rain, it’s finally going to be a good day for hanging the laundry outside.
I hurry to load the washing machine, and when it finishes working I dash outside with my laundry basket and clothespins, and start hanging up the washing. As I do so, I look up with a worried expression: the puffy white clouds which looked so harmless from my bedroom window have become a threatening mass of grey, and it seems as though it’s going to rain… well… sometime in the day, hopefully not right now, I optimistically tell myself as I boldly try to ignore the darkening sky.
As I peg up the last pair of socks, I feel the first droplets of rain on my face.
Moving as quickly as possible, I throw all the washing pell-mell back into the basket, and run back inside. I open up the drying rack in the children’s room (where it barely fits, but I don’t like putting it in the living room), and hang the washing there.
After fifteen minutes of rain which would have made Noah hurry and prepare the Arc for setting off, the sky clears again, and now I’m facing a dilemma: should I take the washing back outside, and risk it will start raining again – or perhaps I shouldn’t bother and just leave it inside, where it will be days until it’s finally dry, compared with just a few hours outside?
I decide to play the daredevil. Huffing and puffing, I pick up the full drying rack (because surely, you can’t expect me to take all the washing back off again, and replace it on the clothesline!) and carry it outside. A couple of socks fall in the process, and I resolve to go back after them later (by the way, we’ve broken the record over the number of lost socks this winter). I place the laundry rack in the back yard, and tell myself that if the sunshine lasts even for two or three hours, the effort will have been worth it.
As I’m about to turn back and go inside, it starts raining once more.
Sure, it has not been so every day, because after all,
has plenty of sunny days even in winter, and there were also days which were so decidedly rainy from dawn till dusk that it was obvious hanging the laundry outside isn’t an option. But the aforementioned scenario occurred enough times throughout the winter to make me feel I’m wasting way too much time and effort on what is supposed to be a pleasant and simple chore (hang up in the morning, take off, fold and put away in the afternoon). Israel
When it was just the two of us, a rainy week would simply mean no laundry, and nothing would happen – we have a large enough supply of clean socks and towels, after all. But with two little ones, I do enough loads per week to make me absolutely drown in laundry if I forego washing for a week or two. Especially now before Pesach, when so much extra washing must be done: blankets, bags, bed, and armchair and sofa covers. All this makes me wish I had a dryer, for the first time in my life, just for those rainy days - even though I have absolutely nowhere to put it, and even though it would probably stand unused throughout most of the year.
Oh well. It’s already April, so I know it will all be over very soon – the rain will be gone, and throughout all summer, every day will be a good day for laundry, with a lot (even too much) sunshine, and all my washing will be dry in a flash.
Then I can go back, read this, and smile.