This progression to country mouseness is a gradual one. At some point this June, I decided to let environmentalism and the weather justify temporary laziness. There is no earthly reason, I thought, to waste power drying clothes when I could just hang them out on the line.
Those of you who do not live in the Northeastern U.S. may not know that we had approximately a thousand days of rain up here. Therefore, I could not possibly do any laundry.
Eventually, I ran out of clothes, and did just one load with the dryer.
Then, like a miracle, it got sunny. The old joke up here is that New Hampshire has two seasons, winter and the Fourth of July, and boy howdy, did it feel true this Fourth. Glorious indeed.
So on the fifth, I did laundry, and brought it out to hang on the line.
But you know how, in the fabric-softener commercials, crisp white sheets and bright-colored shirts all snap in the breeze? Yeah, some of us separate our colors when we do laundry. And some of us, having been city mice, have a lot of dark clothing. So some of us now have the gothest-looking clothesline in the universe, right out there for all the neighbors to see, and, no doubt, mock.
"Now?" you say. "Why haven't you brought in your laundry from July 5 yet?"
Because obviously there have been enough soaking rainstorms since then that every dark piece of clothing I won has had enough opportunity to almost dry before getting soaked again, repeatedly.