Grandma’s blue cotton dress rose a little in the back as she bent over to pick up the clothes basket.

 I know she had other dresses, but for the life of me, the only one I can remember is the blue cotton one, maybe it was her favorite everyday dress, who knows, but it is emblazened on my memory.

She lifted the clothes basket and I watched her carefully open the screen door, heaven forbid if she would let it bang shut, like I did fifty million times a day.

Out the door she went and began hanging the freshly washed white cotton sheets on the line. They began to billow in the breeze like sails on a big sail boat.

I knew that I was definately staying all night with grandma and grandpa that night, which meant a bubble bath in the big claw foot tub, and then, I would slide into the bed on those sweet smelling line dryed sheets.

They were always cool, and fresh, and when one area got warm you could always stretch your leg over to a another cool spot!

The wonderful memory vanished as a big drop of sweat rolled into my eye. I pulled my bandanna head band down over my eyes and gave them a quick swipe. It was hot, 97 degrees in the shade, and a heat index of about 102, and I was out here digging around my clothes line posts so I could add more quick crete. They need to be straighted up, because they weren’t straight.

My 2nd ex hubby(we will discuss this in another story) had helped me put these clothes line posts up a couple summers before, but he had not added enough conrete so they were leaning over like drunk sailors leaning over a bar.

I shoved my spade a little deeper into the hard ground surrounding the post and turned over another spade full.

I have a dryer, but my memories from my childhood drives me to re-create these things in my life now, for me, and for my grandkids. I want them to have these vivid recollections that will bring them comfort throughout their entire lives.

I heaved the 80 pound bag of concrete onto the ground and began to pour it into the hole I had just dug, and my mind drifted back to those white sheets blowing in the wind………

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I am a woman in transition. Working hard to build my little mini farm, and be a good mom, and grandma! I have my own Harley, and love to feel the wind in my face. I am a Christian, tree hugger, homesteader, biker chick! Now that is a combination.

3 COMMENTS

  1. We have a long line streched between two trees. On the ohter side of the big elm is an old fashioned tire swing. Our 12 year old grand son came over and spent the night a couple of days ago. he spent some time on the swing and saw the clothes line then asked if we ever used it. I explained that we use it all the time and why. He spent some time with his grandmother making pasta from scratch and with me picking greens from the cold frame. He left the next day and wedidn’t think lmuch about it.
    We went to his house today and our daughter (his mother) joking said just what kind of junk are you filling Jacks mind with? He wants his own garden now and wants to build a green house. If we keep at it we may have another convert.

    • I understand that! My seven year old granddaughter stays with me often, and Thanksgiving week. she was all about feeding the chickens, giving them vegetable scraps and tending to them. She kept telling me she was a farm girl.

      Passing on this lifestyle, and teaching it is vital! Keep up the good work!

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