After my clothes were ready, I put them in my rucksacks, took the bus to Kauklahti, climbed to the hill beneath my studio, and hung all the wet clothes to an old clothes-line that I found there broken on the ground. I fixed the line, attached it between the trees, and hung my clothes to dry in the beautiful sunshine and mild August wind.
What a pleasure to have all that clean laundry hanging there in the midst of the trees on top of the hill. I sat on the cliff to worship the world that brings us laundry days. I was content to the world, and the world was content to me.I remembered the days of my childhood, when all the mothers of the nearby houses hung their loundry in one common hillside, Saksansaari, in Helsinki. Long clothes-lines were attached between the trees, supported by poles. Where did those poles reside, when not in use?
I did not use any poles today, when I hung my laundry on a similar hill as Saksansaari.
Now the clothes are put in their places in my wardrobe. They did not go through a laundry mangel, which was a huge apparatus in 1960s at Kumpula, Helsinki. But that is another story.
