My Moonlight Saga

This is my moonlight saga, now I’m not talking about the twilight “saga” or series or anything pertaining to or relating to vampires or werewolves. This story may be long, but absolutely will not end in heroic achievement. It will however be a long account of a series of incidents leading up to my grandmother telling me how to correctly do the laundry, with as many of her coined “phrases” as I can possibly use.  Such as her addressing me as “hey lady” or “lady-dee” or poking me profusely in the peck muscle and telling me she’s going home, she’s just going to “scoot up the hill”…..oh how the list goes on and on.

Where to begin…. (?)

I think most parents & grandparents take an interest in showing small children how to do things. Even if they’re not totally interested, they are somewhat obligated, yes? And as children isn’t it our job to amuse them? Play along? My grandmother was always a plain cheerio’s for breakfast kind of woman with a juice glass size OJ. That’s all I ever remember eating. Dinner however, was another story. She would try to convince me to take interest in whatever she was cooking…. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents as a child. My mother worked for Hartford Insurance Agency and didn’t pick me up until 6pm. My grandfather would get home from his job as a construction worker and dinner would be immediately served. So I ate with them most of the time, and I’m sure I caused my grandmother much grief when I wanted nothing to do with the cooking of the dinner, regardless of what she was making.


I despised cooking and baking and when asked to help would merely push the spoon around in the batter for T-2 seconds before crawling down off the chair to go tinker with something else. And truthfully, not much has really changed.

My poor grandmother must have felt obligated to teach me about this so-called susie-home making lifestyle insisting I know about measuring ingredients and baking times versus cooking times. I must say, despite my resistance I am glad she persisted with me, or else my husband would be going nuts by now and eating ramen noodles every night— at least I can complete a non-burnt, well-rounded meal, is that fair?

But this post isn’t about my childhood cooking lessons, or lack thereof. It’s about my grandmother showing me how to correctly do the laundry— and the unbelievably ridiculous story that goes along with it. What I learned from this short mini-lesson and my favorite childhood memories of one thing in particular, my grandmothers clothesline. The story goes like this:

Setting: (we are sitting in the kitchen, drinking instant coffee… she is telling me how to properly shake out each garment before placing it gently in the dryer…. then she tells me this….Grandma: “Bobsche (great-grandmother in Polish) used to say that if you leave your clothes on the clothesline at night, the moonlight will make your whites brighter.”


Me: (straight-faced and dumb founded…) “Do you really expect me to believe that, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard”

Both: Burst out laughing. Sighs…. Sometimes I just don’t know where this shit comes from! Anyways the moral of the story is; NO the moonlight doesn’t make your whites brighter, but supposedly opting to dry them on the line versus in the dryer will keep them whiter for longer. I would assume that similar to how the sun fades fabrics ( lighter ) this same holds true for the whites on the line? With no true evidence this is the only conclusion I can make….your thoughts?

By adding 1/4 cup liquid bleach to the load of white clothes will always do the trick. — and as grandma said, make sure you check everyone’s pockets before you put anything in the washer. Finding a five dollar bill could really make your day! So on this weekends DIY list I have made a special spot for a  clothes line… now that spring is here I can’t resist the smell and feeling of fresh line dried linens!

Sometimes it’s the littlest things that make you smile… like a story passed down from generation to generation. I’m not sure that my children or future grandchildren would fall for that moonlight white hocus pocus, but you never know a good laugh is always fun!

Go hang a clothes line!

The New England Girl


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