I found that the artist, Ada Walter Shulz, was from the Mid-West and spent the greater part of her life in Brown County, Indiana. So, a little research led to a Brooklyn, Indiana, in Morgan County. Morgan County shares a corner with Brown County.
"Wash Day--A Back Yard Reminiscence of Brooklyn" (1912) by Ada Walter Shulz [1870-1928].
wash day
can there be anything
more perfect--
warm sun
soft breezes and
a willing helper
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
National Poetry Month delights abound, visit The Opposite of Indifference where Tabatha is rounding up the poetry links for today. And, if you haven't visited yet, head over to the Team Imperfect blog for its book birthday!
Love the painting and your poem. They evoke fond memories for me too... of sheets popping in the wind and how good they smelled on the bed that night.
ReplyDeletespring spirit...
Deletesheets pop in the wind
shirtsleeves wave
Perfect poem for that picture. I remember hanging laundry as a child too. :)
ReplyDeleteFond memories...
DeleteWhat a beautiful painting! I love how you captured the little willing helper in your verse.
ReplyDeleteThe innocent's desire to be like Mommy.
DeleteThe painting is lovely, and your sweet poem pairs perfectly. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by!
DeletePerfect
ReplyDelete(✿◠‿◠)
much love...
Thank you, Gillena!
DeleteSuch a good reminder of what life was like in 1912. I'm writing a book set in 1910. I'll have to remember that the laundry was hung somewhere!
ReplyDeleteLots of times, in rural settings, laundry was simply draped over bushes!
DeleteI remember the smell perhaps more than anything. My mother-in-law continued to hang the sheets long after she got a dryer, heavenly smell. Glad you found that "other" Brooklyn, Diane.
ReplyDeleteI've got to try to be a little less east-coast-centric!
DeleteGlad you solved the "Brooklyn" mystery! Love your poem. My parents still hang their laundry out on nice days and, when we get a chance, my kids and I are generally "willing helpers." :-)
ReplyDeleteThey're lucky to be able to do that, nowadays some communities prohibit clotheslines!
DeleteLovely poem! And that painting is set not too far from where I live now. We're just a few counties over from Brown and Morgan Counties--and it definitely captures the landscape!
ReplyDeleteI know nothing about Indiana, but this painting makes it very attractive.
DeleteLove that painting. I can just feel that cool breeze and the smell of that clean laundry! Adorable "willing helper."
ReplyDeleteOh that smell!
DeletePerfect in every way, Diane! I miss having a clothesline.
ReplyDeleteExcept for the days when you had to rip the laundry from the line before the clouds opened!
DeleteI love the ritual of hanging out the laundry in the summer. So interesting about the two Brooklyns - worlds apart!
ReplyDeleteI used your laundry photo last year!
DeleteA beautiful painting. Think of that mother's patience- willing to slow down for a wee helper when there is so much work to be done. You've captured the essence of this mother daughter portrait. I love the fresh smell of line dried laundry!
ReplyDeleteMost of us, in a harried hurry, need to slow down to enjoy the moments that make memories.
DeleteAwwwww. Both the painting and the words are better together than apart. Well done.
ReplyDeleteI try to think of ephrastic cherita a one-page picture book.
DeleteI love this! The two Brooklyns couldn't be more different!
ReplyDeleteBut each with its special qualities.
DeleteThe painting and poem combo couldn't be more perfect, Diane. I, too, have fond memories of collecting the wash off our line growing up and then hanging my own on my mother-in-law's line when visiting her in a seaside community. The whites were so much whiter and everything was so fresh. Oh, and the Brooklyn discovery made me giggle!
ReplyDeleteThis memory just popped in my head: trying to position the clothespins so that there wasn't a telltale pin impression left on the fabric. It was okay on underwear, but on a shirt, not so much.
DeleteI'm enjoying the paintings you've chosen and poems you've written SO much! I've fallen off the commenting bandwagon (this last third of the month is an uphill climb, plus the day job...), but I'm reading, and loving!!
ReplyDeleteWe are in the same boat. Most days the thought of writing comments on others' blogs, and responding to the ones on Random Noodling, overwhelm me. I often think that there should be no comments allowed! I, too, like to read and leave.
DeleteDiane, while I do love to comment and read comments left on my post, I am finding there is so much reading. Being involved in a full week of providing professional development and two late afternoon sessions has left me depleted so everything seems to take forever. Now getting back to your poem. I adore this painting since it reminds me of my Nonnie washing her clothes in a very old fashioned ringer dryer and then pinning them on her clothesline. I was the little helper. Your poem describes my memory and recalls the fresh scent of cotton drying in the sun. Thank you for a beautifully-crafted poem that brings light to my memory, Diane.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Carol!
DeleteThere can't be
ReplyDelete"anything
more perfect--"
than your poem with this painting Diane, they fit like a glove–both gorgeous!
I thought the painting at first was a Mary Cassatt, with the blue stripes, Mother and child, but I'm happy to learn about Ada Walter Shulz, thanks for introducing her to me!