One American looking to buy a house in France to another American who would like to sell a house:
"Is this your clothesline?"
"It doesn’t bother your neighbor?"
I paues in my response. Not because I had anything to hide, but
because it was a question that brought lots of thoughts to mind. Quite simply
the answer was no it doesn’t bother the neighbor. But would this American
looking to buy my little house in the village be able to understand that my
neighbor was probably more bothered by all the years that we didn’t have a
clothesline. All that electricity being gobbled up when we could have hung our
clothes out in the dry sunshine of southwestern France, sleep in sheets
perfumed by that same magic sun. That it was even ok to hang laundry on Sunday
if it had been a rainy week and this was the first sun to be harnessed.
I also thought of my friend that used our house for a week. She was embarrassed that she did not
have enough time to get the sheets and towels dry when she was leaving. I told her to just
throw them in the drier. She confessed she didn’t have a clue how to use our drier. In fact she had never used any drier. Ever. Never needed one, and she also never had to iron her clothes-that's what gravity is for.
And there was the Saturday morning at the Williston Farmer’s
market where I found another French friend talking to a young man handing out flyers
on how to put up a clothesline. She was incredulous that there would be an exhibit stall to explain the benefits of having a laundry line. She couldn’t believe that
there would be any need for this education – didn’t everyone just have a
clothesline? What could be going on in those grand backyards in all the family
We always had a fold up clothesline growing up and my Mom
put it to good use. But it was indeed well hidden and I don’t remember any
neighbor having one. She’ll still include a comment or two in our
conversations about the sun or the rain and how the weather is affecting the
drying of the laundry, usually with a bit of a hint towards her having grown up
in the depression and how profligate my generation is with it’s resources.
Here at the new house we inherited a very large line. I can
hang two loads of laundry with no problem. Such a luxury. As I hang the laundry I often think of
the last kindness two dear friends did for my while packing up to leave
Vermont. While I worked on some other silly thing they hung my laundry. When I
went to gather it up that evening I was bowled over by the organization and
techniques used to get everything on the line. It was truly a work of art.
Who would think that hanging laundry would lead to such
memories and reflections on the two cultures that I have experienced. Given a
choice an American would always have a dryer even if just for back up – here in
my corner of rural France a clothes drier is perceived as a luxury that one can live
And no, no one will be bothered to see your clean knickers, bras, panties and batman underwear flapping in