I wish I had my camera at home this morning. There are six narrow lacy panels hanging on the clothesline, in alternating arrangement, blowing gently in the morning breeze and catching the dappled sunlight under the maple tree. My son is weaving in and out of them at a run, shuttling back and forth -- "It's like a maze!" he says.
I washed the basement curtains. Funny curtains they are, came with the house -- thin, gauzy white, completely inappropriate for an unfinished basement. I think she sewed them up right before she put the place on the market, back when the basement was completely devoid of dirt and bugs. And there have they hung, four years now I should think, attracting house spiders who are in turn attracted to the crawlers and things that creep in around the basement window sills. Dirty, dusty used web threads and insect carcasses everywhere. First I taped a paper towel to the basement broom, tied on a head scarf and gritted my teeth. I swept up as much as I could from the window wells, and then removed the curtains and threw them in the wash machine. By themselves. With lots of water and soap. I only had to transplant one fat house spider. She won't like the corner I left her in. Too damp. I watched her climb up another spider's web, belonging to a much smaller one, which scurried quickly away at the site of her. I'll call her Aunt Fanny.
But if I had a camera, I'd post a picture of those curtains, on the line.
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