fee fi fo fum, I smell wet washing done

There's washing on the line that's been there since Thursday. Thursday. Three days ago. On Friday I did two new loads of washing, rearranged the line and got it all out. I managed to bring about a quarter of it in a little drier than it went out. Even drying inside, and in front of the heater has been slow over the last two days. It's cold, and constant rain is making the air damp and clammy. I've been so pressed for drying space that nappies and other non essentials have been left on the line. I thought they might dry this morning but by the time we'd returned from our walk it had already been raining for half an hour. Never seem to catch them even half way to dry. Lucky I did my washing on Friday, or I'd have no clean clothes for work and Grace would be out of clean jeans.

So our kitchen feels a bit like this.

from Jack and the Beanstalk, retold by Kay Brown, illustrated by Gerry Embleton, Award Publications 1978.

Except that I'm not trying to hide a small person in the cupboard. That's Jack, being hidden from the giant by his wife, the giantess. She looks pretty nice, I think, especially since she had just made him a big plate of bacon and eggs. Her kitchen looks cosy with a giant sock and shirt hanging up. She's a model housekeeper, I'm sure. (I wonder how the giant household fares after Jack steals the goose that lays the golden eggs and the magic harp. Seems strange that this is portrayed as a good thing, especially after the giantess feeds him.)

I think I wear too many clothes, or at least I don't wear them as many times as I could before washing them. From what I remember, I came to this conclusion at the same time last year. And started a washing minimisation scheme, which I'm sure I wrote about, but buggered if I can find.

Tomorrow; the festival of folding, ironing and putting away. I can hardly wait.

drying inside

It's been a constant source of tension beteen us, this drying of laundry inside. From the last two winters, I have a method that's irritating and painful but it works. First, unless it's raining, you hang the washing on the line. Early. Because you will have put the first lot on before anything else. So depending on what else is going on, it might even be ready to hang out before you have breakfast. Which means that you can put the next lot on early too. If I was being really obsessive, I might have started a load before I went to bed, but normally not.

If it starts raining and the washing is drier than when you put it out, you bring it in. If it's still really wet, you only bring in those things you really need. The washing is bound to move along the dryness scale at some point. Once you bring it in, it needs to be sorted and hung. Over the rails in the back room doorways, on the side of the playpen that is a de facto drying rack. On the backs of chairs and in front of the heater. There's no point stuffing the drying space in front of the heater too full. This reduces its efficiency. More surface area increases efficiency.  You need to turn and rotate items in front of the heater fairly constantly. It's a pain but makes best use of the most effective drying spot in the house. When things are dry, you put them in the basket for folding and move some new items in front of the heater. The items hanging above the doors also need to be rotated, and dry things removed. This increases the air flow.

All of this needs to be done over the afternoon and evening so that in the morning, there is dry washing to be folded and put away. And space to air the next load of washing. It all seems rather obvious to me. Scientific even. It would make life easier if we replaced the dryer of despair with one that could dry damp clothes as opposed to almost dry clothes within a reasonable time frame. But apparently dryers are bad. So fiddle we must. If I try and explain it one more time, I'll burst I'm sure, because like I said it's pretty obvious. Tedious but obvious.

If I had my time again

I think I'd use disposable nappies. Really. I love the sight of nappies drying on the line and I love the idea of cloth nappies. Sometimes in the right light, and with everything else done, I even enjoyed folding them into neat piles. Taking a perverse pleasure in how quick I had become at the origami like fold we decided to use. I never really liked the nappy covers we used. They tore at the spash of nappy soak and Target kept running out of them. Which was always really annoying if I'd gone to Highpoint or another big shopping centre. And the extra washing. And drying. Not just of the nappies but of the trousers that were wet or worse.

No, if there were a next time (not that I think there will be) I'd want to be using disposables and figuring out a good way of disposing them. Like one of those special collections (does that still operate?). Or even composting the wet ones. Whatever.

I also thought that cotton would be nicer on a babies bottom, but as my sister Betty and I were discussing on the phone tonight, it isn't. It's all damp and humid. No wonder Grace kicks and screams if I even try to put her in a clothie these days. I've given up, life is too short to argue with a two year old about nappy choice. And really I see her point. If I had to wear a nappy, I'd want the one with the ease of movement and the dry lining.

Image from an old copy of The Bounty Baby Book, circa 1985. Frightening to think that this is when I could have been having babies (I'd have been 22) and that under the table of contents there is the following statement... simply to avoid the clumsy repition of he/she all through this book, we have referred to babies as 'he', nurses 'she' and doctors as 'he'. Indeed.

every woman deserves a relax-sit

And to do the ironing at the same time, maybe while watching television or supervising the kids homework. Mind you in the heels this lady (in a judges wig?!) is wearing, standing for any length of time is bound to be a tad uncomfortable. Those shoes may appear elegant but my feet feel blistery just looking at them.

Personally I like to do my limited amount of ironing standing up and listening to the radio. I'll most likely be wearing ugg boots, slippers or thongs, depending on the season. Hopefully while G makes dinner or feeds Grace. Contemplating a big relax after dinner.

These images are from an Australian Women's Weekly dressmaking supplement from the late fifties, early sixties. Lucille Rivers is described as a famous American dressmaker and demonstrator and was touring Australian capital cities demonstrating easy, professional dressmaking. The following equipment was displayed during her demonstrations;  Beutron Tecpearl buttons, Coats supersheen thread, Lightening zippers, Realax-sit Ironing Boards, Singer Sewing machines, Sunbeam Steam Irons, Mc Calls paper patterns...

And a big hello to visitors via Brocante Home. Lovely to have you.

things don't always turn out as you imagine

I had in mind a particular layout for my main blog. It involved a hand stitched banner, with a crochet avatar of matching wool. I tried several different fabric and wool combinations, finally ending up with 4 ply on calico. Which of course I didn't wash or iron first.You can't tell but I did draw out the letters first in tailor's chalk. So after a night spent stitching, I washed and dried it, alongside the sheets, on a moody, cloudy day.

I thought it looked OK on the line. But it was too big to go on the scanner so I had to try and take a photo. I tried different lights and vantage points. Then I ironed it and tried again. Nup. Looked like crap on the page. No matter what I did. So I went with something else. As you do. Sometimes even ironing doesn't fix things. Oh well, I'm reasonably pleased with how it turned out. Except of course, for the bit where I missed a whole night of crochet.