Large items of laundry in a brisk wind

My mum was so talented and clever in so many ways, but I was thinking of her this afternoon when I was taking in the laundry. I was taking towels and sheets off the line, folding them before dropping them into the basket and thinking it was such a practised thing, I wasn’t even concentrating on doing it. When my husband takes the clothes in, they are just bundled up or dropped as they are, and if I suggest he folds them, it’s a real palaver.  I was thinking of Mum because she was a great needlewoman and she could manage fabric as she laid it out, or pinned out a pattern, or made it into clothes for us – including shirts and pyjamas for dad. I had no interest in it, and when I tried it seemed as if the cloth and threads conspired against me and became bunched and out of place. But managing large items of laundry, even in a brisk wind, I’m an expert.

When I take in the laundry, even in a hurry, am I channelling Mum’s expertise in some way? When I’m ironing and position the clothes on the board, turning them as I iron, folding them so neatly without looking what I’m doing while I’m watching “Saving Lives at Sea” or “Motorway Cops: Catching Britain’s Speeders” – am I using skills I learned by watching her? I would love to think so, even though it’s so very unlikely. I’m so chaotic, untidy and forgetful in many ways, but my ironing is always neat and organised. It’s a mystery – is it also an irony?

My featured image is of my wonky rotary clothes line – I really should get it restrung, but it amuses me.