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 ramblings and things

Those Past Washday Blues

No tumble driers on a long past
Cold, wet, weekly wash day:
No lines to peg wet clothes on for
The wind to blow the water away.
Just that  old traditional method
The wooden clothes horse
Propped In front of the fire
Taking  all the heat of course.

No good sitting shivering or
Asking your mother why.
Was Day was wash day  
And the clothes had to dry
But oh the simple pleasure
When your mam wasn't looking,
Sneaking between fire and horse
To  sit there almost cooking

Stolen seconds really before
Your bravery came to naught:
Mam realised you were missing
And you were quickly caught.
Oh the repercussions from
Your mams righteous ire
Stopping the clothes from drying
By sneaking in front of the fire.

Automatic washers, tumble and
Spin dryers, gas central heating
Clothing quickly dried whilst
Watching TV, relaxing, or eating.
No more kids sitting and shivering
No more risking their  mams ire
Sneaking between clothes horse
To pinch  the heat from the  fire.

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