... or, what does drying laundry have to do with the lottery?
from Jacqueline
In sunny California we are in the midst of a worrisome
drought. We have not had enough rain
for, well, months now. The reservoirs
are low, the air isn’t very pleasant, and frankly – it’s a bit spooky. This is serious. But I think I have the solution, though there
are those who might not like what I have to say. People in California should give up using
dryers for their laundry. Put the wash
on a line out in the garden, and I promise – it will rain. I know this because I was raised in England
when no one had a dryer. We didn’t even
know such things existed. You did your
wash, then you pegged it out on the line to dry. And then it would rain. So, you either left the laundry on the line
in the hope that the rain would subside and the sun would come out and save the
day, or you ran out into the garden, brought in the damp sheets, pillowcases,
shirts, etc., etc, and then had to endure having them sitting around on a
laundry rack in front of the fire, or draped across the radiators, or placed on
an airer that hung from the ceiling in the kitchen – one of these.
So there you have it – give up those darn environmentally
shameful automatic dryers, put the wash on the line, and I guarantee it will
rain.
And while we’re on the subject of laundry, I wonder about
dryers in California, which, for much of the year is bathed in sunshine. I love the fragrance of bed linens and towels
dried in the fresh air – and no little sheet of smelly paper thingy that you
put in the dryer can replicate the smell.
My sister-in-law (she and my brother also live here in California)
rigged up a washing line in the garden at their previous home, then hung the sheets out to dry on a
lovely summer’s day - in CA it takes all of about ten minutes for the laundry
to dry outdoors in summer. She was shocked when
she came out of the house to bring in the wash, only to find her neighbor waiting
for her, leaning over the garden fence at the ready to admonish her for putting
out laundry to dry. “What do you think
we are here – Okies?” said the woman.
I’m glad to say she’d met her match in my sister-in-law – you don’t mess
with a redheaded Scottish lass who will brook no such nasty comments!
While we’re lingering on the “Murphy’s Law” type of
occurrence, I was in the car with my mother today – she’s “over here” for the
holidays – when we were stuck at a stop light that I know always takes ages to
change. You could cook dinner in your
car while waiting for your light to turn green.
But I knew how to get things going.
“This is taking a long time,” said my mum. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get it moving,” I
replied. I reached into the glove
compartment and took out a tube of hand cream.
“If I start to put this on, believe me, the lights will change.” I rubbed some cream onto the tops of my hands
– not my palms (that would be dangerous) - and sure enough, the lights changed
and we were off. It always works.
There was a bit of lotto fever going on this week – the Mega
Millions lottery went right up there, into the $600k’s. Before the drawing - the
winnings were shared by a woman in Georgia and someone who bought a ticket in
San Jose, and at the time of writing this post, that unknown winner is either
sensibly keeping quiet and laying low, or is idiotic enough not to have checked
his/her ticket. I suspect it’s the
former - this feeding frenzy had brought on
all sorts of conversations. It seemed everyone I knew was talking about what
they would do with the money if they won.
Well, it would never have been me because of course I forgot to buy a
ticket. But what would I have done with
all that money, if I’d won?
My husband and I had a chat about this the last time the lottery
pot grew to supersized proportions, and we knew exactly what we would do. We would give it away. Oh sure, we would make sure our nearest and
dearest were well taken care of, and probably I would ask my mother if she
wanted to come over here to live, because with all that money the healthcare
issue wouldn’t be a problem. I’d like a
decent sized working space – a library of my own would be nice. My husband would like his own small recording
studio, plus a pool table. But we
weren’t too fussed about the other trappings of luxurious wealth. Instead we decided we’d set up a foundation
and have a great time funding the causes that resonated with us. On the list were literacy programs, food
banks, camps for kids suffering challenges ranging from health issues to
economic and emotional insecurity, the environment, the local humane society –
oh, and I want to do all I can to save the mustang horse. My big thing would be to give a huge chunk to
the hospice where my dad was cared for with such wonderful compassion, love and
professionalism before he passed away.
Oh, and no one would know about any of it. We would never, ever let anyone know if that
kind of money came into our hands. But
what great fun it would be, giving money to causes you believed in.
In the absence of the big win, we still give to the causes
that tug at our heartstrings – but it’s not in the squillions.
I think I’d buy my mother a dryer too. I could suggest that to her now, but I bet
she’d turn it down – she likes that smell of laundry dried outdoors.
I used to enjoy hanging clothes out to dry, but now allergist recommends not, and keeping windows closed most of the time as well (I open during gentle rains sometimes, figuring that the rain will have washed away the allergens). Loving the cause/effect musings, and thinking the clotheslines could work, or at least reduce the use of electricity and thereby reduce pollution. We used to chant, "Change light" with my niece, which at least seemed to make it change faster.
ReplyDeleteI have only bought lottery tickets twice, just in case there was a Plan that I was thwarting (as in the joke in which God answers prayer with "Meet me halfway. Buy a ticket.") -- there apparently wasn't. I like the idea of supporting good causes, and do so on a small scale already, but for myself -- hmm, travel budget would be good, and a chauffeur, because I really don't enjoy driving . . .
Happy holidays, all <3
Thanks for your comment, Mary - I don't think I'd need a chauffeur, but an occasional chef would be nice, someone who would come in a couple of nights a week to cook up a good gluten free, dairy free, red meat free meal for me (my husband would have the gluten loaded, dairy dripping, red meat meal) - that would be an indulgence, but quite lovely.
DeleteThe big thing I miss when using the dryer is the aroma of freshly washed and line dried sheets and towels. It would be hard to hang them out here in the snow...I remember my Mother bringing them in all stiff and frozen and drying/thawing them out all over the house.
ReplyDeleteOh, I remember those stiff and a board ice-hard shirts too - my brother and I would start skylarking around with them, until we were told off for it! ("I don't do the washing for you two to play with you know." - I can hear it now!).
DeleteWe didn't have a dryer until later in my childhood. In the winter, my mom dried clothes on a rack over the floor furnace. I'll agree, sun-dried sheets smell wonderful. I don't use those dryer sheets any more.
ReplyDeleteI thought about getting a lottery ticket but didn't know where they're sold. Liquor stores?
Just look for the big L lotto sign at a 7-11 or gas station, plus of course a liquor store. Some markets have them too. And if you're playing, Patty, remember us little people if you win ...
DeleteI think that snooty neighbor lady ought to be hung on the line by her thumbs.
ReplyDeleteTrust me, Paul, when I say revenge was exacted upon that snooty neighbor. We do not put up with snootiness or intolerance in my family.
ReplyDeleteI also love drying laundry on the line; I refer to it as "laundry therapy." That, and a cup of hot coffee on a sunny morning, and I'm positively blissful!
ReplyDeleteVal, that's a lovely thought - "laundry therapy." I know this is not everyone's cup of tea, but I also like "ironing therapy." Just seeing those creases swept from cotton sheets, pillowcases, table napkins and so on ... makes me feel like a human steamroller!
ReplyDelete