You put the washing on the line.
Always an enjoyable little job for me.
I know, I know, I must be peculiar......but I really like hanging out washing.
Now I use a rotary line and I love it, but for years it was one long piece of plastic strung across the garden from tree to tree..one long fluttering line of clothes and towels and socks and jeans and bedding.
26 years ago there were even cloth nappies on the line - that didn't last for long I must say.
Our life on display.
Picking each dress or t-shirt up from the basket, smoothing and straightening and positioning just so on the line.
Pegs in the right place, and yes there is a right place...trust me...you cannot be slapdash with pegs.
Making sure to hide certain items (perhaps the bigger, older, shabbier knickers?) and then placing the other items in a pleasing array.
The breeze makes the clothes flutter and dance and wave. Shirts without bodies. Socks without feet.
A little while later it is almost dry.........a little while after that you look out of the window.... and think 'it might rain...' and then you carry on with your day and suddenly notice that the sky is dark and rain is beating against the window pane.
There is a mad dash outside and plucking of pegs and clothes and then using the tumble drier.....bugger.
A little while later the sun is out and there is colour everywhere....the sky, the trees, the brickwork and paintwork, the cars, flowers and plants..... all illuminated so brightly.
You think...darn.......and then smile and look around for a rainbow.