Tuesday Part 1: Writing
For me, the reason I document my life is best summed up by Anaïs Nin, "We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect."
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While on an extended stay with our son's in-laws, we were in desperate need of clean clothes. After washing our first load and removing the freshly washed laundry, I was tasked with hanging it on the clothesline to dry, as was the way for this family.
Reaching into the hanging cloth clothespin bag and feeling the old-school wooden clips, made memories of my childhood flood back.
How much a part of my youth were these hanging tools. Two prongs connected by a fulcrum with a spring. By a lever action, when the two prongs are pinched at the top of the peg, the prongs open up, and when released, the spring draws the two prongs shut, creating the action necessary for gripping. Never had I thought of the cleverness of this simple tool as I did on this warm winter day.
Removing each item of damp freshness from its basket, and strategizing on its most optimal placement on the clothesline, made me long for the simpler life it represented. It helped me to remember the frustrating challenge of folding each piece of clothing in such a way as to not leave a huge crease where a crease shouldn't be under the power of the gripping pin. Even the squeaky sound of the spring rubbing against the wood prongs made me smile.
After a day of blowing in the breezes, removing the dried laundry actually made me laugh. Oh, how many times, as a child, had I dried off with, and complained about, a stiff, sandpaper-like bath towel. Yet somehow, the scent left upon my pillowcase was worth it all.
I am continuously delighted by the little everyday things that cause memories to return. One really never knows when those childhood recollections will flood back but when they do, what fun to take a moment to savor them and, at times, to share them.
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"We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed.
As in filling a vessel drop by drop,
there is at last a drop which makes it run over;
so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one
which makes the heart run over."
-Ray Bradbury
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