When Doing Laundry is a Pleasure
Even though it is November, the metal door to the roof of my building is hot enough to fry a proverbial egg on it. Like in Japan, most people hang their washing out to dry and where I live, lines have been strung on the roof to take advantage of the sun and wind. In Gibraltar, those without balconies hang their laundry on lines strung outside windows.
Every time I do this typical household chore I am struck by the blinding beauty of the view and I have to take a moment just to appreciate how really fortunate I am.
The other thing that I always think about as I anchor my wet clothes to the line with wooden clothes pins is how much our mother loved to hang her laundry outdoors. She didn´t have a view of the Mediterranean but she just adored the way things smelled when she brought them back inside. During the long, frigid winters in northern Ontario, she would have to dry our clothes by hanging them on lines strung in the basement of our house. As soon as the mercury would climb above freezing she would brave the still chilly days to hang them outside where they would benefit from fresh air and sunshine.
While I was in Morocco, I was reminded of how the Tswana women knelt on the edge of the Thamalakane River to do their washing because the women of both of these African countries use the same detergent, Omo; however, the women in Chefchaouen have a shelter with concrete basins and scrubbing boards erected over a mountain stream
I will end this Correo with a quote from Colleen C. Barrett
Work is either fun or drudgery. It depends on your attitude. I like fun.
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