From one of my avid readers comes a poem that brings back many memories.
Though the younger generation of readers will not know what I am talking about, I feel I must pass it on for those who do before I chuck it into my chuckle bucket. It goes exactly like this:
A clothesline was a news forecast
To neighbours passing by.
There were no secrets you could keep
When clothes were hung to dry.
It also was a friendly link,
For neighbours always knew
If company had stopped on by
To spend a night or two.
For you’d see the “fancy sheets”
And towels upon the line
You’d see the “company table cloths”
With intricate designs.
The line announced a baby’s birth
From folks who lived inside,
As brand-new infant clothes were hung
So carefully with pride.
The ages of the children could
So readily be known.
By watching how the sizes changed,
You’d know how much they’d grown.
It also told when illness struck,
As extra sheets were hung,
Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe, too,
Haphazardly were strung.
It also said, “Gone on vacation now,”
When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, “We’re back” when full lines sagged,
With not an inch to spare!
New folks in town were scorned upon
If wash was dingy and gray,
As neighbours carefully raised their brows,
And looked the other way.
But clotheslines now are of the past,
For dryers make work much less.
Now what goes on inside a home
Is anybody’s guess.
I really miss that way of life.
It was a friendly sign
When neighbours knew each other best
By what hung on the line.
So there you have it, folks. Said in no better words. The Little Lady and I lived and loved those times, and should or could the clock be turned back, we well could and would relive those times together.
Take care, ’cause we care.