A gentle sun warms my skin on this early winter day, a cool breeze keeps the chill in the air. It promises cooler nights to come, snuggling under warm blankets and tucking in tight.
It’s good drying weather, my Mum would say. And into the wash would go all the nappies and towels, to be hung on the line and rotated to take most advantage of this winter sun.
She pours her heart and soul into this dance, the Washing Day Shuffle. Hell, if clothes could dry on love alone, my Mum would have them dry in a heartbeat.
As a modern day woman I’m taught that there are machines that will do this work for me, freeing up time for that work and life balance. I’m taught that I can work, raise children, and have it all.
But today, enjoying an unusual weekday out of the office, I find myself doing my own washing day shuffle. I vaguely wonder if my enlightened peers would be impressed to know that the biggest issue I face today is how to get the last of the toes of my socks dried.
It’s only when I get this time that I appreciate how much work was really involved in running my childhood home, giving us the opportunity to springboard our way into independence and having families of our own.
I remember those crisp winter days as my mother taught me, in turn, how to be a mother. And today, I’m happy to do the shuffle for my children.