On Wednesday, when I was hanging and bringing in the washing and doing the ironing I was pondering whether the washing is more work or less work in summer. There seem to be more clothes to wash as clothes get dirter and stinkier quicker. And my rewearing strategies go right out the window. More ironing too. What fun on a 38C evening. But less time on the line. Long dry days when you can do serial loads and take a load off the line to hang the next. So less stress about getting the washing out early. No drama if the schedule gets a bit muddled. Less rehanging and airing. No dampness. Wednesday, the nappies just seemed to snap and crackle in my hands as I took them in. So there was room to hang out the washing I'd done after we returned from Highpoint. Which was dry, less than an hour later. Meaning I could iron my new skirt and wear it to work the next day.
Today in the tearoom I was talking with a co-worker who's about my age. She's thinking about having another baby. As I looked at these pictures, I thought how much I'll miss the sight of nappies on the line because it will mean that Grace is no longer a baby. I want her to grow up, of course. But I'm already nostalgic for her baby days and yet looking forward to being there as she grows up. All at the same time. Nostalgia and anticipation and wanting to be right here. I won't miss scraping but I'm sure that I'll miss the sight of nappies on the line. I find it so calming.
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