The dark-haired, slender framed woman in her early 30's struggled to carry the handled wicker basket filled with heavy wet clothes as she had done with so many other things in her life, with a lot of womanly grit and a sturdy grip. She tried not to kick up any dust from the ground under the clothes line before setting the basket down.
By using a clothespin to attach the corner of one sheet with the corner of another sheet, she could make do with the number of clothespins she had in the pockets of her printed flour sack, wraparound apron.
It will not take long for the clothes to dry today she thought as she took one hand to brush back her long curly hair that was beginning to blow into her eyes. As she reached for another sheet in the basket, she saw the wind whip a dish towel from the line and furl it down toward the sandy dirt underneath. "Oh me, oh my, that dry hot wind can be both a blessing and a cursing sometimes," she mumbled not too quietly to herself.