Looking out my Backdoor: The Adventures of the Gallant Clothesline

Once upon a time, in the far northern reaches of China, bordering Mongolia, there lived a beautiful princess. Oh, wait, wrong story. Start again.

Once upon a time, in the far northern reaches of China, bordering Mongolia, a factory dedicated to producing the best umbrella clotheslines in the world, meticulously began to piece together the very Prince of All Clotheslines.

Disclosure: Parts of this story have been fictionalized. However the main thread of the story is absolute truth.

In all innocence, unaware of consequences which would surround my decisions, I began looking for an umbrella-style clothesline suitable for my next life chapter, in which all my living space shrinks.

I kept returning to the (Yikes!) model which cost (Yikes!) much more than the other models flanking it left and right. My chosen model is made of steel rather than aluminum. Maybe it wouldn’t matter. I batted around pros and cons with friends who know no more about this style appliance than I do. Finally, I ordered it, ordered the (Yikes!) model I most wanted.

I waited for confirmation of my order. Waited. Waited. Finally, I got a message from the Big A that if I did not get confirmation from the supplier within a certain number of days, I should cancel my order. This message did not instill confidence. No, no, no. But, I wanted this model. I waited. Waited. Waited.

Meanwhile, back at the factory in the far north reaches of China, bordering Mongolia, workers began meticulously piecing together the poles and slides and strings on what would become the most Princely of all Umbrella-style Clotheslines. With each piece of the Umbrella Puzzle, the dedicated workers explained to the clothesline, that it would find a new home in which it would be expected to outperform all others models of same. They whispered to the pieces and parts, that they would be appreciated, that the newly formed umbrella would find honor in rising to its highest function. You have my word for this.

Finally, before the deadline, I got a message that confirmed my order. I even got an expected delivery date. Whew.

This was last month.

The delivery date came. The delivery date passed on by, as dates tend to do. It long passed. It passed.

I waited. I waited.

Meanwhile, this Most Honorable of All Clotheslines was battling its way to my arms, adventure after adventure.

Upon leaving the factory, my clothesline had to endure the grumbling of the Grumbliest of All Camels crossing the great Gobi Desert, enduring sandstorms, battling sandworms, oops, sorry, different story again, but you get the picture. It wasn’t easy.

Finally, across the desert, through villages, crossing rivers, my Brave Clothesline reached the Sea where it boarded a Sampan and crossed the Wide Pacific Ocean, through typhoons, dodging hurricanes, and weary but undaunted, landed on the Shores of Nayarit in Mexico.

Almost home, almost. First, it found itself tied onto the back of a little brown burro which bowed its willing head and set off on trails up, up, up and over the Sierra Madre Occidental Mountains. Up and over and down and down and down, through Nayarit into Jalisco. Brave little burro.

Finally, today, my clothesline was delivered to my own door, a little weary, somewhat battered but undamaged and glad to find a home. Not an easy trip but remember, it has nerves of steel.

I will love my Princely Clothesline which has travelled half the known world to reach my arms. I will honor my Clothesline. I promise to Cherish my Prince of a Clothesline.

The End.

——

Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].