How well I remember the sensation of the twin rubber rollers on the wringer of Momβs white enamel washing machine pressing down hard on my young flesh from hand to lower armβmy screamsβthen Momβs quick thrust, disengaging my arm from the wringer.

Pink toy washing machine, Etsy
When I was tall enough to help, I pinned clean clothes with wooden pins to Momβs clothes lines, two parallel metal lines stretching from the grape arbor near the kitchen window all the way to the mulberry bush by the outhouse. InΒ winter, I touched cold sheets and towels made stiff by icy winds, before wrestling them into the wicker laundry basket.

Winter clothesline, Christine Henehan
In the backyard of our former house in Killarney Shores, I smile remembering clothes and bed linens gently blowing in the breeze.
My blog friend Liesbet Collaert sometimes hand washes on the go. Liesbet leads a nomadic life with her husband Mark and doggie daughter Maya. Sometimes far from a laundromat, she washes clothes by hand. You can find more about her roaming life in her A+ memoir HERE.

Liesbet Colleart hand washing in Ushuaia, Argentina.
***
Author Barbara Brown Taylor Muses about Laundry and more
Barbara Brown Taylorβs Learning to Walk in the Dark is the best book about exploring darkness I have ever read. In fact, it is the only book on the topic I have encountered. Early on, the author warns that her book is more of a journal than a manual, βfocusing on spiritual practice rooted in ordinary, physical, human life on earth, like going for a walk, paying attention to a tree, hanging a load of laundry on the line, and treating other people like peepholes into God.β Read more here.
Author Jennifer Harris Describes the Ministry of Laundry
The mountain rises every day, not just in its elevation, but in its girth. It is a mountain of socks with holes, t-shirts and sports shorts, of faded school uniforms, denim jeans too small, and kidsβ shirts now too tight, mixed in with bedsheets, pillow cases, and tablecloths. We sort through the piles of laundered items to separate the items that fit from the items that are ready to be bagged up and ushered forth into the wonderful world of The Thrift Shop. The socks whoβve lost their matching pair are tossed into the lone sock drawer in the laundry room. One day, Iβm sure Iβll go through that drawer and find all the pairs have been reunited in there over the years. Different seasons have called for different methods of managing the vast amount of laundry our family has used.
You can find the rest of her article here.
A Writer’s Tips

Writers in the Storm blog post – Margie Lawson:Β Tag You Dialogue with Big-Time Power
Considering all the elements of writing, dialogue tags are like clothespins. When youβre hanging clothes on a line, they have an important job to do. But no one truly values them. Clothespins become rough and faded and cracked, but we keep using them.
Just like writers keep using the same overused dialogue tags that only do one job. They tell the reader who said those words, but they donβt do anything else.
It seems like writers often grab the first clothespins that pop into their mind to tag dialogue. They keep the clothes on the line, but they donβt add depth or interest or big-time power.
So many missed opportunities to share important story stuff like subtext. Grab that emotion. Get it on the page!
She offers some super examples from other writers:
#1 Detective Lakeβs voice was loaded with anger.
More precise:
All the friendliness has dropped from Detective Lakeβs voice, and whatβs left over is an electric storm. One thatβs buzzing around, about to strike.
#2 Letβs make this fast.β I held out my hand to her.
More precise:
βLetβs make this fast.β I held out my hand to the last person who needed to be saved.

Wringer washing machine, Pinterest
Do you remember old-time washers? A clothes line?
What tasks, like laundry, could be classified asΒ ordinary?
Any thoughts about writer’s tips displayed here?
Mom warned us of the dangers of a wringer washer and I had a friend with a terrible scar on her arm from it having been caught in the wringer as a child. I guess you could say I was afraid of washing machines. I had one when I was first married but we soon got an automatic washing machine. I love the analogy of clothes pins. I haven’t had a clothes dryer for the last ten years and have never missed it. I love clothes dried outside. Clothes pins, like dialogue tags have a job to do.
No scars from my encounter with the washer wringer, thank goodness!
Our HOA generally does not permit clothes lines, but my neighbor has a small, square one. (Sometimes I hang one or two items on hangers from my holly tree branches.) π
Good morning, Marian!
We’ve discussed laundry many times with my experience much different from yours. But, maybe it’s not “ordinary,” then. π As with the dialogue tags, anything can become something more if we look at it closely and describe what we see and feel (and perhaps smell and taste).
You’re right about dialogue tags, Merril. Writers who express thoughts and feelings in a sensory way enrich the reading experience, that’s for sure. π
π
My grandfather used to fix wringer washers. When we visited my grandmother and him in Michigan, my brothers and I saw some wringer washers in their basement. We never used them in our home. When I was very little, my mother would take our clothes to a laundromat. Later my parents purchased a washer and dryer for our home.
Washers with wringers are a thing of the past, but at least you can visualize one.
When we were first married, we took clothes to a laundromat, what a drag! Now I use a washer and dryer, but I do miss the fresh-air dried smell of a clothes line. Thanks, L. Marie! π
I remember hanging clothes in the yard. We had a bunch of clothespins!
Hi Marian
I had a wringer injury when I was a child.
HURT! WOW!
Another laundry injury happened to me, I was sitting on the
side of our white porcelain tub watching my mom wash
(presoak) my brother’s nasty diapers and “fell in.”
Talk about hurt six year old pride.
Well, there’s a story, Diane. I’ll bet that never happened again. Right? π
I’m liking your examples of how to bring life to dialogue tags. Excellent thoughts! I’m struggling just now with how to get away from the saids, the chuckles, the screams, the snaps–you’ve provided some real help. I’m reading Omar Eby’s fascinating novel A Long Dry Season which brings us to the beauty of Africa to life. (Did you ever read it, or have Eby as a teacher at EMC?) It’s worth picking up for multiple reasons. He uses words like blinking, stiffly, snickered, frenzy — these have vigor, eh? As do your words!!
MELODIE, I never had Omar Eby as a teacher, but I knew of him as a well-liked professor. I remember his sparky wife, Anna Kathryn Shenk too, and his earlier writing about Somalia. Thanks for the recommendation. I’m always on the lookout for excellent writing. By the way, I think you’d enjoy Melodie Miller Davis’ comment about Omar Eby’s book below. π
Hi Marian
Been there, that is – the wringer injury. WOW
Thank goodness for automatic washers and driers.
I remember another laundry injury (to my pride), I was
rocking on the side of the porcelain claw foot tube
and fell in the tube, into my brothers dirty diapers.
She was doing what my Mom called “presoak.” UGH!
Only you would put together laundry, spirituality, and writing tips into one zippy blog post. π I did my share of putting laundry on the line when I was young and even my share of putting laundry through the wringer (helping me to understand that metaphor). I remember my mother’s instructions about how to make the line look good — big things first, then smaller. There was country pride in how early your wash was on the line and how good it looked. There’s probably an analogy there to writing also. π
Thank you, SHIRLEY–I too remember those instructions about clothesline etiquette. (And maybe, if possible “hide” the undies.) And, yes, get your wash out early and in good order, probably more applicable to the Amish nowadays.
It’s fun to reminisce here, we who can multitask with automatic appliances. Thank you! π
Hi again
Diane’s comment means “more” if you take the e off of tub(e).
Maybe it is too early to be reminiscing!
No problem, Diane!
Hi,
I love this article because it brings back memories of when my family got our first washing machine, which looked like the one in your pictures. It was a big come-up to using a tub to scrub clothes with a washboard. You’ve mentioned a book that interest me. The one about Learning to Walk in the Darkness. Sometimes, I explore the feeling of being alone in a dark room. Thank you also for the writer’s tips. I’m always looking for new ways to express myself.
By the way, I don’t care to return to those old days of washing clothes. I prefer a washer and dryer. π
Take care and have a lovely week.
Shalom shalom
Pat, if I reach far back into my memory, I can picture my Grandma out in the back porch making lye soap and then using it to wash clothes, maybe on a wash board.
Because you are tuned into to spirituality, you’d enjoy Barbara Brown Taylor’s book. I got mine from our library, but you can also find it online, print, ebook or audiobook: https://www.amazon.com/Learning-Walk-Barbara-Brown-Taylor/dp/0062024353
Always good to see you here, Pat! π
How well I remember the old wringer washer located in the wash house. There was also a pump trough there. (Anyone know what that is?) Later, when Mom had a shiny new electric washer & dryer she called it her laundry room.
I now have a clothes line stretched between a post and tall wooden flower container on my back deck. Nothing like clean fresh-air dried clothes. Thanks Marian for the memories! Jean
Jean, I never thought about Mom’s switching from wash house to laundry room when she got new appliances. So, thanks for that. And, we can both visualize the “old” and the “new and improved”! π
This post brings back a lot of memories for me,Marian. My mother was so grateful for a wringer washer when we came to Canada. In Paraguay she did all of our laundry with homemade bar soap by hand with a scrubber! That included diapers of the three babies birthed there, as well as the other three childrenβs clothes!
In Congo we had a wringer washer but I had household help. In Canada I delighted in hanging up my laundry outside in the fresh air. Thanks for letting me reminisce, Marian!
You have experienced all the stages–from primitive to modern. I would welcome household help these days, but I guess that could be a mixed blessing. As to clothes drying, hanging up your laundry outside in the fresh air is wonderful in good weather. Thanks, Elfrieda! π
Melody mentioned Omar Ebeyβs book, βA Long Dry Season.β It was the first gift I gave to my husband before we were married and getting to know each other. He was in Congo and I sent it to him. I canβt find it in our bookshelf and am wondering what happened to it!
I will alert Melodie to your comment about Omar Eby’s book.
About the bookshelf: Sometimes books get dislodged and fall behind other books on the shelf. If that happened to you, maybe you can “hire” some grandchild to help you find it. Books are special, even ones we’ve read before. π
Oh, nice story about your first gift to your eventual husband. I’m only half way through reading Eby’s book. And yes, try looking behind your bookshelf, my young daughter had lost one of the books she brought home from school and the school librarian encouraged her to look behind things like furniture and her dresser and we finally found it. Good luck!
π
I remember one old-time washers in a childhood friend’s elderly aunt’s basement. We played with it to see how it worked, like it was an interactive history museum display. Never actually used one to wash clothes, though.
Ally, I can see how you may think of a wringer washer as an item in an interactive history museum display–too funny! π
Hmmm. This conversation triggered a thought I have held onto since reading Stephen King’s On Writing. He is the first to admit “Do as I say, not as I do.” He is a big fan of the simple “she said” (or he) even in emotional moments. He used Larry McMurtry’s writing as an example. I’m not sure I agree with that, I like your examples above, but I’m sharing it just because it stuck with me. King particularly doesn’t like when adverbs are added such as ” she shouted menacingly.” And I love your video of clothes on the line blowing softly in the breeze. Thanks Marian. β€οΈ
You took it all in, Melanie. Thanks for the Stephen King example. If the plot and characters are engaging enough, simple tags can probably work.
Thanks for noticing the clothes line video. It’s calming, I think too. π
Thanks, Marian. π
I bought a second-hand wringer washer when my husband and I were just starting out because I figured by the time someone got rid of an automatic washer, it was on its last legs. The washer worked great, but I did get my hand caught in the wringer once. I managed to get to the phone and call a friend. She came over with her husband, who immediately found a release button on top of the wringer and released my hand. As for dialog tags, I mostly go for the utilitarian “said,” with the occasional “responded’ or “replied.” An admonition from prior writing profs just popped into my head on the subject: “Let your nouns and verbs do the heavy lifting.”
I’m glad you pointed out an opposing point of view regarding dialogue tags. I’ve read over Margie Lawson’s examples again and I see that too much description in the tags can slow the action down. Hmmm!
Thank God, you don’t seem to have permanent damage from the wringer experience. Writing goes better with two hands. π
I agree that the examples are overwritten. The worst dialog tag offender for me is “opined.” It’s like fingernails on the blackboard.
Yesss!
I have VIVID memories of a washing machine with hard rubber rollers!
When my family moved from Washington state to southern Idaho in my Jr. High years, my Mom and Dad rented a one-story farm house in Swan Valley, Idaho.
Since my family didn’t have much money my Mom decided she didn’t want to spend the $50 deposit to turn on electricity…Soooo we lived in that house for the summer. No electricity, no indoor plumbing and a well pump inside the kitchen area that had to be primed often.
There was an old wash machine outside the back of the house. We washed our clothes with an old copper scrub board (I’ll bet my classmates had no idea what that was). After rinsing the clothes we used the rubber rollers to squeeze out the water into the wash machine. To drain the soapy water from the tub my Dad brought home the sheathing from large electric lines used on an earth-filled dam that was being built (Irwin Dam) at the southern border of Idaho and Wyoming. My brother and I wound (probably many dollars worth) black electrical tape around the sheathing to make a gravity fed hose that irrigated our garden.
I anticipated that the summer without electricity with all of the other things we didn’t have would be the WORST experience of my life, but it actually brought back many fond memories how a family of six could survive that summer.
Another story of the outdoor privy…well, I’ll have to save that for anther time.
My dear, I have heard this story before, but thanks for writing it down to include all the details. Yes, the outdoor privy—another time! π
My memory of being caught in the wringer was in Brazil, Marion. It was a sunny day and I was so proud that my mother said that I could help her wash. I was a grown up. And then my hand was being absorbed. It was a surreal moment. Was I being eaten? Would I fit into the rollers? I wanted to find out. Alas! The sound of the rollers detaching foiled all my imaginings. LOL!! I LOVE your video. A meditative moment!
I’m glad this post took you down memory lane, Rebecca. I wonder if the rollers detaching your arm happened automatically, without touching a release button. Hmmmm
I’m glad you enjoyed the reflection here, including the video. π
I suppose the smell of clothes hung to dry was/is fresh, but personally, I feel sorry for those women in the ‘olden days,’ as well as those in poorer places/countries, who must wash with a wringer or a bucket, in Liesbet’s case. I happen to LOVE my (old, very old) washer and dryer. I pat both of them in thanks every day. I like to start a load and then write a story or dance to music or bake cookies, then move the washed clothes to the dryer. Then when done, take them out and my guy folds them like the engineer he is. π My dryer sounds like a jet taking off, so I’m giving it extra pats lately. I do like the simile you use with clothespins. Dialogue tags are tricky, and best to underuse. Great post, as always, Marian.
Pam, our washer came with the house 8 years ago, and we brought our dryer from our former home, so they are old, old, old. I don’t pat these appliances in thanks every day, but I do radiate warm thoughts to them–just like with my plants whose toes got frost-bitten during our recent cold spell.
Cliff often does his laundry + bed-linens now that’s he’s home more.
Thanks for your “story” reply here, always entertaining! π
My mother had a wringer washer on the back porch when I was 3 years old. I remember watching her wash and wring the white bed sheets and then hang them on a line to dry. After she went back inside the house, I threw clods of dirt on the sheets that were blowing in the wind, leaving big ugly splotches of mud on the white material. I was normally a very good, obedient child. Not sure what got into me that day!
That sounds like a true confession, Linda Lee. I guess you just felt like being naughty that day. We all have our secrets from childhood–ha ha! π
Marian, this is the third comment Iβm making here. I just canβt help myself! Cliffβs summer experience sounds like my motherβs in Paraguay!
As to Linda Lee throwing clods of dirt onto freshly washed sheets just made me laugh! Kids do the strangest things!
I’ll let Cliff know about your mother’s parallel experience in Paraguay.
Comments are always welcome here. If you find that book, you can add to the conversation! π
A little before my time. Who needs to go to the gym, when you have a wringer? I imagine that would give the owner quite a workout. We still occasionally hang laundry on the line when the weather is warmer. I love the smell of fresh clothes. My dad had a funny story about putting on a pair of loose-fitting slacks and noticed a lump in one of the legs. He removed the pants and a bat that had fallen asleep inside flew out of one of the pant legs.
Thanks for all of this, especially for your “batty” story. I wonder if sleeping bats can give one rabies. You didn’t mention a sorrowful ending, so I guess not–ha! π
I too remember the wringer and the scrubbing board…I still peg my washing out like my mother everything together all the towels in a row then the tea towels nothing was pegged on the line haphazardly…Thank you for the memories, Marian π
I sense you like order and preciseness. Of course you are a chef who follows recipes, so I’m not surprised at your approach to laundry. Thank you, Carol! π
ordinary laundry – and the ordinariness of hanging it on the line. It’s like a meditation where the concentration is on this task, starting on the back line, pegging, wondering which will dry first. And tossing the towels into the dryer, so that they come out fluffy and fresh! Actually, I’m not so mad about doing the laundry. Especially lately after fracturing my wrist. Thank heavens for husbands!
Will check out the writer tips soon. Thanks Marian …
You mentioned all the benefits of coordinating with nature to do laundry and I agree.
I hope your wrist is mending nicely. Good for you to have husband help–and a medical doctor as well. I may have mentioned that I broke a metacarpal bone on my left hand. The bone has mended, but the laceration will take months to heal. Wishing you clean laundry and a healed wrist, Susan. π
Your checkered life continues to show in your blog posts, Marian. You always do such a good job of piecing the parts together.
Thanks for the plug for my blog. More and more these days, we are doing laundry by hand, because the drop-off laundromats are too expensive or popular. River water at the bottom of the world is cold, I can tell you that. But the constant wind makes drying laundry easy. If it doesnβt rain. π
You’re welcome, Liesbet!
I can see why you shy away from laundromats. Besides being expensive, they are time-consuming as well, I imagine. Nothing like the scent of fresh air dried laundry! π
This is a lovely post, Marian. My mother used to assist her mother and grandmother with washing using real metal tubs, a dolly and a wringer. Hard work to be sure. With regards to dialogue tags, many authorities say you should keep it simple and stick with said so that it what I do.
Thanks for the laundry history here, Robbie.
A consensus is building in comments — Keep dialogue tags simple, as you say. π
ππ
Marian β This post brings back great memories. My great aunt Esther and uncle Eric had an old-time washer in the basement of their Chicago home. My sister and I were fascinated by it.
Though I don’t use dialogue tags often, I have to admit to using them.
I love the idea in the quote you shared: “… treating other people like peepholes into God.β
Oh, I remember when you left Chicago in a “caravan” enroute to Boise. You seem to like it there.
I think mystery writers treat other people like “peepholes into–motivation? intention?”
Thanks, Laurie! π
You brought back memories of my very old fashioned grandmother. When I was a little tyke, I remember playing with her washboard! Yes, she still used it! Lol, thanks for the memories. <3
You’re welcome, Debby!
I’m guessing your old fashioned grandmother found comfort in the ordinary, in the familiar. π
When I was growing up we had a wringer washer. My Mom and Grandma always warned me to not put my hand near the rubber rollers.
I love to hang clothes on a clothesline. They come out smelling so good. When I lived in Ohio in the country, I hung clothes on the line, especially my sheets. The windy conditions in northern Ohio dried them quickly, and they looked like they had been ironed.
I know Timberlin Parc didn’t allow clothes lines, but maybe you can enjoy wind-blown clothes in your next home.Thanks, Bonnie! π
Great post, Marian. I don’t have experience with the wringer washing machines, but my mother had a clothes line in our back yard and I can still picture the bag of clothespins hanging from the line. Which reminds me of my grandmother who used to make me clothespin dolls. I like your writing tips, too. It’s a good reminder to get creative!
Love those clothes pin doll, so simple and cute. Book reviewing is a creative activity, which you do so very, very well, Barb!
π
Thank you, Marian and the same goes to you π