A couple of months ago, our dryer died. No problem, I thought, I have a clothesline. I love clothes dried on the clothesline. Clothes and sheets and towels, slightly crisp and warmed by the sun, smelling of wildflowers and cut grass - what could be better?
Since I lost my dryer, it's as if New England has morphed into the Pacific Northwest. We've had rain every day this week. I can say the same for almost every other week since the end of April. I can walk by a window at work and see a glorious sunny day, but by the time I get out of work, the storm clouds have gathered.
This morning, I woke up and saw blue sky. I leapt out of bed, threw together a load of laundry, and washed it. I took the clean clothes out the clothesline, wearing my sunglasses and sweating a little under the already hot sun. And as I was hanging up the last item, I looked up and saw dark clouds moving in around the sun. By the time I was done, there was no sun, just flat, gray clouds, and that sensation of moistness that comes before a rain. I left the clothes on the line anyway, in the hopes that the rain staves off long enough to at least get my clothes partially dry.