laundry and dishes and slowing down

Been doing a lot of laundry and contemplation lately. That task particularly lends itself to meditation: it is mindless and easy. And it also means that the kids are outside with me while i'm hanging things on the line, so they are occupied and happy. I haven't ever consistently hung laundry on the line until moving into a house with no dryer hook-up. We'll get it fixed, it just involves calling an electrician to put in the right outlet and getting someone to cut a hole through the house for the vent... thought I'd wait for our tax return to do all that.

Meanwhile, I'm hanging laundry on the line any time there's a few hours of sunlight together. This has been rare these days and sometimes I'm hanging stuff on the line one minute only to have dark clouds roll in the next.

I stopped hanging laundry out those days we had single digits at night with highs in the 20s. I draw the line there. My fingers grow numb and start fumbling with the clothespins. Also, won't the clothes just freeze? This meant we had mountains of laundry by the time I deemed the weather warm enough to venture out again.

But today was one of those days-- comfortable, sunny, and breezy. At least for a little while. The clouds rolled in really fast late afternoon and I had to send Josh and one of his friends who had stopped by out to fetch all the laundry. The wind was gusting and it was more than a little comical watching these grown men rushing around the flapping laundry, snatching it and throwing it into baskets. Anyway, back to this morning. The boys built a house in the yard complete with a brick stove and buckets of soup and chairs. The baby was sleeping.  And I hung load after load of laundry. I'm surprised how long it takes to hang tiny clothes (so many little socks!) on the line, but it affords me time to think.

Washing dishes is the same. It is daily, it must be done, there is no escaping it. We don't have a dishwasher, so I'm washing dishes a lot. But this, too, is a forced slowing down, and so long as there aren't melt-downs or tantrums going on, I'm able to think.

It's a slower pace of life, I think, not having the conveniences of a dishwasher and a dryer. It means I don't have time for other things; but then, that means there is less cluttering up my day.  It's like what Saint Teresa of Avila says about possessions: "Thank God for the things I do not own." Our days are simple around here: wake, dress, eat, play, read, eat, nap. Repeat until supper.

In keeping with the mindset of leading a slower life, I've decided to banish the words "hurry up" from my vocabulary. This is nearly impossible to do with toddlers, but I want to try. I think it might curb a lot of my own frustration and it might just allow for slower days. And peace.