THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 14, 1994 TAG: 9408110179
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 03 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Ford Reid
LENGTH: Medium: 67 lines
The constant reader will remember that last summer I installed my friend-of-the-planet-Earth, semi-automatic, non-polluting clothes drying system.
At the time that I ran the clothesline from our second floor laundry room to an oak tree in the back yard, my wife scoffed.
She was against such foolishness.
I reminded her that they laughed at the Wright brothers.
``The Wright brothers were ahead of their time, not behind it,'' she said.
The dryer, she said, was one of the great inventions of the age, a marvel of modern efficiency that helped end the drudgery of laundry day in America. If it was good enough for her mom, she reasoned, then it was good enough for her.
Given all of that abuse, imagine my surprise when I went to put clothes on the line one day last spring and it was full.
My wife started out slowly, sneaking a special thing or two onto the line. First there was a white blouse that she wanted the sun to bleach. Then a pair of shorts that had picked up a little mildew stain. Then a cotton sweater that still smelled like moth balls after it had been through the wash.
But she could not stop. Seduced by the wonderful smell of air dried clothes, she wanted more, more, more!
I had to wait my turn.
I could not turn away so desperate a person.
Besides, you should never say I told you so to your spouse. Unless, of course, you can do it in print and then get out of town for a few days.
I have made a few improvements in the system.
I first used ordinary clothesline that I bought from the hardware store for a few cents a foot. It was looped through screw eyes attached to the house and the tree and worked fine.
For a while.
All of that friction as the line was pulled through the eyes began to fray the line. I noticed it, but kept putting off replacing it.
You know how that goes. You notice it when your hands are full and vow to do something about it as soon as your hands are empty. But when your hands are empty you go on to other things and don't think about the problem until your hands are full again.
Sooner or later you will be forced to deal with the problem, whatever the status of your hands.
My sooner or later came as I pulled in a large load of wash with the line straining under the weight. The line snapped, the clean clothes fluttered to the ground and I nearly sailed out the window to my doom.
Hanging by my knees out the window and clutching a broken piece of clothesline, I vowed that this would never happen again.
I searched the basement and the garage until I found a couple of old blocks and shackles from a sailing dingy. Then I invested in a length of low-stretch halyard.
Now I have one of the finest clotheslines that you'd ever want to see. It is the pride of the neighborhood and I expect that tour buses will be coming around most any day.
All that I have to do now is convince that wife that every once in a while she ought to let me use it. MEMO: Ford Reid's column appears weekly in The Carolina Coast. Send comments
and questions to him at P.O. Box 10, Nags Head, N.C. 27959.
by CNB