Not so much changes. If we choose for it not to. Letters and laundry. Two examples. An email is quickly deleted after reading. A handwritten letter is cherished from the moment it is retrieved from the mailbox and often saved to reread over the years. Laundry can be a dreaded task to complete as quickly as possible or it can be savoured as a cup of tea. It's about being in the moment. Allowing oneself to sense what is all around. Beyond the task itself. Hanging laundry to dry on a line outside in the coolness of the morning, when the birds' chorus is lively, and the dew still wet on the ground. A dryer may be less effort, but what are we missing? The photo below is one of my favorites. It is Dick's mother. The setting is the backyard of the house where he lived on the dividing line between Crosby and Ironton, twelve miles northeast of Brainerd. His family moved to Brainerd prior to the start of his 4th grade school year, so this photo was taken in 1957 or earlier.
I have a mission, now. To seek photos of my mother and grandmother hanging laundry on their clotheslines. To hang on my wall. Together. To tell a story. Personal and historical. To document change. Or encourage lack of it.