Pegs — Small But Stress-Inducing
Six Word Photo Story Challenge — Freestyle
The smallest component annoys the most.
Laundry days are no longer the major operation they used to be. There’s no heating water in a copper, or standing over a metal dolly tub building a navvy’s biceps using a posser. Or, help us all, feeding one’s fingers along with sopping sheets through a mangle — yes, I bear a flattened finger-joint; no, I am not as old as Methuselah.
In contrast, clothes pegs — clothes pins in some parts of the world — have changed very little since the split willow or ash pegs of the 1700s were superseded by wooden spring-clip pegs.
My late mother-in-law, a superstitious lady, believed in purchasing hand-made split-wood pegs from gypsies who came door-to-door with the seasons. If she bought enough, she’d be presented with calming words and a sprig of white heather “for luck”.
Its mass-manufactured counterpart was the Dolly peg, seen far left in my image. Why it bears that name is beyond me, but with the addition of a pipe-cleaner and pencilled features, it soon became a young girl’s doll awaiting a wrap of clothing.
As did my own late mother, I prefer wooden spring-clip pegs. Earlier in my married life these were produced in the UK and built…
