I love watching washing dance on a clothesline, like it’s doing in the photo above (by Jill Wellington, via Pixabay). There hasn’t been much chance of that this week. The weather forecast said showery. That turned out to mean torrential downpours lasting for hours, with burst of sunshine. The dry spells tempted me to peg everything out, but they never lasted. Then it was a mad dash to pull everything off the line and get it back into the house.
My latest university project involves the effects on women’s lives of automation during the twentieth century. I’m collecting memories of washing-day from the times before everyone had an automatic machine.
It was the late nineteen-nineties before I bought a washing machine. I’d been using the handy service wash system at my local launderette. I could drop the dirty clothes off in the morning, and pick it up all clean, dry and neatly folded on my way home from work.
That was lovely, although loading and unloading our own washing machine is hardly a chore. It’s not as though we have to scrub each item individually, before rinsing and wringing as in days of yore. I also get a lot of pleasure from watching a line full of washing dance in the sunshine. Getting a load of wet washing dry when it’s raining is a lot less enjoyable!
Do you have any memories of wash day?