The Midget Line
"Maybe I took the wrong dose of medication today. Possibly true as I am listening to Chris De Burgh as I write this...I end up looking like a limbo dancer trying not to knock over the pole whilst at the same time fumbling for another peg"
There is something that has been annoying me recently and I have decided to get it off my chest and unleash it to you - the blogging public at large. What is the whinge, I hear you say? Well it's nothing to do with the weather, GFC (Global Financial Crisis and not Gillingham Football Club), or the lack of good birthday cards on offer in Australia.
It is, believe it or not, our washing line! Now, I know what you must be thinking. Maybe I took the wrong dose of medication today. Possibly true as I am listening to Chris De Burgh as I write this blog. But medication is certainly not the issue today. Read on and I'll explain.
We have a washing line that we use, not surprisingly, to hang out our clothes for drying. It is secured to the far wall (aka a fence) and swings up when you need to use it and then swings down when not in use. I have decided to explain this as it is not a Hills Hoist (as we call them in Australia) which is secured to the ground and is raised or lowered by the turn of a lever.
Anyway, I have nicknamed our line 'The Midget Line'. As it is truly quite low when fully erected. The problem that I have is that being just a shade under 6 feet tall I have to crouch down to hang up our clothes. In fact, if there is lots of washing I end up looking like a limbo dancer trying not to knock over the pole whilst at the same time fumbling for another peg. I am sure that my neighbours must get a good laugh out of how I look. In my case the reason for the limbo dance is to ensure that I do not bang my head on the top of the washing line.
Naturally, even though I don't want to bang my head I invariably do. For some reason I forget to keep my head lowered and all of a sudden I feel a sharp pain as my noggin hits the washing line. This actually happens on a too regular basis for my liking.
What happens then is that a spray of four letter words spew forth from my mouth as I curse the 'midget line'. After this outburst I feel a lot better even though my head is feeling quite sore!
I cannot help thinking that when the house was built in the nineties the builders wanted to play a sick joke on anyone who was on the tall side. That's the only reason why I can imagine the washing line being so low in comparison to other lines.
Either this or they just totally stuffed it up!
Whatever the case, I feel a lot better having got my whinge out of my system. Well, I had better go and purchase a crash helmet as the washing machine has nearly finished its load!
There is something that has been annoying me recently and I have decided to get it off my chest and unleash it to you - the blogging public at large. What is the whinge, I hear you say? Well it's nothing to do with the weather, GFC (Global Financial Crisis and not Gillingham Football Club), or the lack of good birthday cards on offer in Australia.
It is, believe it or not, our washing line! Now, I know what you must be thinking. Maybe I took the wrong dose of medication today. Possibly true as I am listening to Chris De Burgh as I write this blog. But medication is certainly not the issue today. Read on and I'll explain.
We have a washing line that we use, not surprisingly, to hang out our clothes for drying. It is secured to the far wall (aka a fence) and swings up when you need to use it and then swings down when not in use. I have decided to explain this as it is not a Hills Hoist (as we call them in Australia) which is secured to the ground and is raised or lowered by the turn of a lever.
Anyway, I have nicknamed our line 'The Midget Line'. As it is truly quite low when fully erected. The problem that I have is that being just a shade under 6 feet tall I have to crouch down to hang up our clothes. In fact, if there is lots of washing I end up looking like a limbo dancer trying not to knock over the pole whilst at the same time fumbling for another peg. I am sure that my neighbours must get a good laugh out of how I look. In my case the reason for the limbo dance is to ensure that I do not bang my head on the top of the washing line.
Naturally, even though I don't want to bang my head I invariably do. For some reason I forget to keep my head lowered and all of a sudden I feel a sharp pain as my noggin hits the washing line. This actually happens on a too regular basis for my liking.
What happens then is that a spray of four letter words spew forth from my mouth as I curse the 'midget line'. After this outburst I feel a lot better even though my head is feeling quite sore!
I cannot help thinking that when the house was built in the nineties the builders wanted to play a sick joke on anyone who was on the tall side. That's the only reason why I can imagine the washing line being so low in comparison to other lines.
Either this or they just totally stuffed it up!
Whatever the case, I feel a lot better having got my whinge out of my system. Well, I had better go and purchase a crash helmet as the washing machine has nearly finished its load!
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