Sunday is often laundry day at home; yesterday I did seven tubs of wash and rinse. When I stepped outside about 19h30 as we say here, or 7:30pm as I once called it, to bring in the last of the drying, this is what I saw:
Now I realize this may be a quotidian sight for plenty of people in the developed world - Scarlett O'Hara, for instance, and those of you in Montana, maybe, or the higher-rent neighborhoods of the Bay Area (though I suppose you wouldn't get the wonky laundry line in most high-rent neighborhoods), or England's West Country or wherever, but for me... Not something I'm used to seeing of an evening in the mid-Atlantic suburbs. Pretty sweet.
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