Yep the words of that song can’t get out of my brain right now. I guess it’s true. You can take can the girl out of the hicks but you just can’t knock the hick out of the girl. This is what my fence looks like this morning. Did I mention how much my neighbors love me?

So it’s Saturday. Bria gets up at 5:30. I’m tired. Ray has a board meeting at Camp Idlewild. I decided I would use the opportunity to catch up on housework. (Yes, I’m blogging instead of cleaning.) So I think I’m doing great on the laundry. Then Hanan shows up. Her quilt has a disgusting substance on it. That’s a blog for another day. I could devote a whole blog to that child these days.

I try to multitask, the quilt and the Hawaiian punch stained tablecloth go into the washer. Multitasking isn’t always my strong suit. The washer must have gotten off balance. There is no way the dryer can work on the dripping wet 50-pound mess I’ve made. I look in the garage. Nothing to hang them on. By now puddles are forming. I can’t risk breaking the washer so on the fence they go. Where is Ray when I need him? Oh, that’s right…at a camp meeting.

Now why doesn’t a good Kentucky bred girl like me have a clothes line? Funny story… I know clothes lines are great for the environment and my pocket book but when we bought this house 12 years ago, I was horrified at the site of a huge clothes line running the length of the back fence. It took up the whole yard. Plus, I was an young (dumb) urban (trying but still hick) girl now trying to start a career. One of the first things I did was dig those suckers up.

No I don’t regret it. As I was standing outside this morning with a baby in one arm and a camera in the other hand, my neighbors might deeply regret my decision. However, I never mastered that soft feeling some people achieve. When my clothes came off the line they always felt stiff as boards and sometimes scratchy so I’ll stick to my dryer. I do sometimes miss the smell of my sheets in the summer. I can easily give it up when I look across the fence at my neighbor’s giant tidy whities hanging from their line.