February 28th, 2006
Well the picture isn’t great, but here’s the aforementioned textile art. My grandmother, who lives in a small town in Kansas, always had a clothesline in her backyard. When I was really young, I remember standing out there with her while she hung sheets and other white things on the line while I busied myself collecting rolly pollies in a bucket. The backyard smelled like clean laundry and warm tomatoes from the garden ripening in the hot Kansas sun; I had a very happy childhood. I have memories of many calm, long days filled with cobbler, sunscreen, and other sweet snapshots like this. I think my grandma’s clothesline is still there, although I don’t recall anything wriggling in the breeze but what remains of 20-year-old wooden clothespins.