It is quiet and peaceful here at home. The sky is dark. The evening hour has come. Rain is pouring on the roof. It is a pleasant sound.
Earlier today, I left the clothes on the line. But I didn't care. I love to see laundry on the line, even if a sudden rain drenches them!
Many years ago, Mr. White and I were house hunting here in rural Vermont. We were going to buy an old farmhouse. It had been owned, for a lifetime, by one family. In this house, things were still run like in the old days. There was a cookstove in the kitchen. We thought it was charming. There were no showers - only a claw foot tub. But the most endearing thing of all, was the rows- and- rows of clothes-lines, hanging on the covered porch. We were told that, even in the dead of winter, farm wives would hang the clothes outdoors! Later, they brought them in, stiff, and ready for a hot iron.
As the rain falls on this warm summer night, I am thinking about the old ways of housekeeping. I love the labor involved in keeping things neat. I love that I have important things to do, here at home.
I am also very grateful, that we bought this large old colonial house instead of the farm house. Because, honestly, I dearly love the idea that we live in a house that was built for a lawyer, who had a wife and 10 children. I love that this house is my museum. And I love the retreat-like-setting we get to enjoy, even though this place is beat -up, and in need of repairs.
There is nothing like a little rain, to make one nostalgic.
Blessings
Mrs. White
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