Wind and washing

Yesterday we woke to wind.

We usually do here on the coast, but there is wind and there is WIND. I think it gusted to about 50 kph just at walk time, so, because it was Sunday and no Eastenders music to excite Alfie, we battened down the hatches, lit the fire and hoped that the roof was nailed on tightly!!

old advert for Hills Hoist Clotheslines (1955) / thanks to Wendy in Tasmania

This morning it was still blowing like mad but I needed to do the washing and by now I am used to hanging up articles of clothing that seem to have a life of their own. Our first rented house here had a Windy Dry in the back garden, you know the type, a central pole with four arms at the top, miles of wash line strung from arm to arm and the clever idea that the whole top turns gently in the breeze as the washing dries. In theory this works well, but, add a 40 to 50 kph wind and the fact that the contraption is old and slightly rusty and the little metal brake no longer stops the turning movement and you have a recipe for disaster. Hanging washing then became a sort of maniacal dance of grab, peg, let go, duck and jump back. If I was not quick enough, the next arm whipped round and caught me on the side of the head. Then a curse or two was snatched and flung into the wind. Once everything was pegged on, the entire load gathered speed and in no time at all was spinning like a dervish. Pillow cases attached themselves to socks, tea towels danced next to jeans. There was no such thing as hanging things in any sort of order, the only thing that mattered was making sure that the washing was secure. I certainly did not want my aging underwear flinging itself off the line and ending up on a bush like a wind sock, or plastered on a neighbour's window for all the world to see. A few times we did come home from town and had to retrieve the odd towel or tee shirt from among the flower beds. (I had visions of the neighbours meeting up every Monday afternoon to swap and claim missing bits of clothing!)

much easier in the wind :-)

Taking the washing off the line was just as difficult as sometimes the pegs were buried under an article of clothing that had wound itself around itself or round the pole, or the wooden pegs had disintegrated and the little metal spring acted like a staple.

Needless to say, when we built our house we enclosed a courtyard with a washing line firmly attached to the wall.......................... straight and orderly!