In other words, a clothesline. Here is mine. It connects from a pole on the porch in the back, out to the silver maple tree. I've wanted one for quite a long time, in theory. So when I talked about it in the spring to my boyfriend (there must be a better word. I'm in my 40's for goodness sake, isn't there an adult word for boyfriend), I thought I was engaging in a "wouldn't it be nice to have..." exercise. The problem (oops, advantage) of mentioning something like this to S, is his mind starts to think. And think. And think some more. For the next couple of months all I heard was "let's draw a design" or "let's go to the hardware store" or "let's do some measuring". I was focused on other things like my vegetable garden so I finally threw up my hands and told him to run with the project. So here it is, my lovely clothesline that works like a dream. It's become more important in my household because the dryer has broken. Not that it was used much but sheets and towels are just not the same unless tumbled dry. The dryer still sits broken while we use scratchy towels.
In the words of my wise 12 year old daughter, E, when she saw me hanging out my first load of wash "Mommy, you have turned into Grammy". Grammy is my mother and I have never received a higher compliment.