Getting It All Dry

When we'd camp in one place long enough, we were "those people" who'd hang one of these up. It'd be super convenient once we'd all been showered for the day, where we'd line up all of our wet things to be dried & ready for the following day. Eventually, for this purpose, we eventually got one of these. We weren't always able to rely on having trees growing in a strategically convenient manner at our campsite; nor we were always able to rely on even having trees (or shade of any sort for that matter) at the campsite at which we'd be "assigned". Some of the campgrounds where we'd stay didn't have any trees on their sites, sans their seasonal patrons.

To reduce the likelihood of it blowing over (which happened at least once), Dad found a few extra we had of these for the just in case moments like this, & hammered one in place on either side at the foot.

We quickly began to get a solid system in place, making sure to hang our large towels on the wide posts & saving the smaller sections for our tiny washcloths. Mom would take what we used to clean up the family's dishes after camp meals & hang them up here too.

I was never a fan of the process that became of how our "at camp" meal dishes got cleaned & dried. I dealt with it, sure; & yes, I also survived. Yet only the word "despised" comes to mind when I ponder the process & how it happened to become "my & Dad's 'thing'" over the years ... & no one else's. Urgh.

Apparently the process began simple as can be, with Mom & Dad suggestively asking that I carry said pile of dishes over to the washing basin located on the backside of the washroom with a "kitchen" counter specifically designated for such purposes. I cannot purse my lips & face enough to amplify the not-good-ness of this sequence & scenario. Oftentimes I'd take my bike, which made the trek & overall experience a bit simpler & better; my bike had a basket, although rather small, which helped for speed & transportation purposes. Really, I just wanted the task *over* with...& *very* fast.

Dad would do the washing & scrubbing, which was nice because sometimes whatever he'd cook up would become a big "to do" & be a slimy mess worthy of those liquid kitchen soap commercial before & after's. It was my task to get things over to the counter & back to the camper where, for the most part, Mom would take care to relieve the items from me & get them where they belonged in the drawers, compartments, baskets, etc. I'd help make space on that counter that Dad was using while he washed & scrubbed by scooting things nearer to him in a systematic way (either the next obvious item or one which Dad would suggestively request be placed 'nearer-by' than it's previous position atop the counter). Most was anticipated based on stacking ability & ease in basket positioning.

Since oftentimes it was from our breakfast that we'd be cleaning up, it was obvious what we'd have to wash & dry. An immediate analogy that comes to mind is a sports announcer with which listeners are accustomed to hearing particular shenanigans throughout the game's duration. Such was the symmetry of washing up a hot tea mug for Mom (it was a white based one with a sewing-related slogan on it) & a coffee mug for Dad (it was a black base for which I don't remember the rest); both were plastic & not ceramic at all, which is why these mugs were brought along camping & not any of our others. Also, a stirring teaspoon for each. The rest would vary depending on how elaborately "homemade" & "from scratch" that Dad would prepare our meal. If we'd be enjoying an item, such as a coffeecake, from the nearest grocery store, then the electric skillet's base wouldn't need to be scrubbed at all, as we'd not have had eggs, or any pork fat along with it. (Although we'd also not have had any protein either 😂...retrospective cynicism at its best!) Also, we'd typically eat off of paper plates, which we'd often keep in a way as to be using them, as I incorrectly define as kindling, for our next campfire, likely later on that same day. The juice, & if we'd have milk too, which, if we did, we'd be having along with breakfast, we'd drink from these. Remember this post? 😊😉😜

I found these campground washing basins & subsequent, adjacent counters to be, well, gross. They never seemed up to par for me & the overall cleanliness we needed & should have. I never felt that our dishes were really being cleaned, though Dad would always have them in the pan & never directly in the sink's basin. He'd even wash up the pan after he finished up, &, whenever we'd have a lot of dishes with a meal (more than likely a dinner than a breakfast or lunch), he'd go the extra mile & stack the final random washables in the cleaned out pan when he carried it back to our site. Our dirty or clean dishes atop those counters always seemed to be negating the very purpose of cleaning any of them: sanitization; apparently I just cannot be satisfied on this.

Also, in this process, it was my duty to be drying these dishes. Dad washed & scrubbed, then handed off to me, primed & ready with a drying towel slapped over my shoulder. (He had one too because, why not?) In an actual kitchen I "treasure" washing dishes. I'd actually willingly skip out on dishwasher ownership, really, I would. I find dishwashing as meditative as mowing lawn, as I wrote about here, & washing & folding up laundry; I despise drying dishes. I'm not the biggest fan of the "putting dishes away" task either, though this one is more inevitable, so there's that whole general necessity-of-life thing in there too.

When we finished up with our all-too-frequent task of washing, drying, & putting away, the dishtowels we'd been using & the dishcloth with which Dad had been scrubbing joined in among the remaining inches of space left by the items we'd hung post showering.

Looking back, I obviously used this bike the most often, rather than this bike. Which makes sense, in part, especially based on when I finally got the latter one. There was no basket attached on the latter one, though at about the time that latter one joined our household is about the time that us kids weren't so much "kids" anymore & had summertime plans, activities to attend to, &, well, eventually first official jobs. And gone became the days of washing dishes with Dad at camp. I tell ya, I still, to this day, believe it'd be rather "gross". Even if that is a "kid-like" description & defense 😁😂.

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