"No Such Thing as Bad Weather"

An homage to warm coats and clotheslines

Painting by Ellen Langford

Several years ago I read a book entitled, There’s No Such Thing as Bad Weather — A Scandinavian Mom’s Secrets for Raising Healthy, Resilient, and Confident Kids, by Linda Akeson McGurk. I was drawn in by the title, and I am glad I read it. It has shifted my language and my perspective.

The idea for the book was born when McGurk, who grew up in Sweden but now lives in a small mid-western town in the U.S., took her children to the playground on a cold February morning, only to discover that no one else was there. They were all hunkered down indoors, anticipating a snow storm.

McGurk reflected on how very different Swedish attitudes about being outdoors are compared to those of parents and educators in the U.S.

She writes, “Scandinavia’s nature-centric culture, embodied in the term friluftsliv (which loosely translates to ‘open-air life.’)…is a way of life considered key to raising healthy, well-rounded, and eco-conscious children.” Research clearly shows that children need to be outdoors.

It has been wonderful to see how our grandson, Charlie, who is two and now has language, demands to be outside. Almost any challenge to his normally good nature can be solved by a walk outdoors.

I can’t say what being outside means to Charlie. Right now he has the wonderful gift of being able to be immersed in the experience and not have the adult need to explain it. But, I can say what it means to me as an adult and a farmer.

Being outdoors and working in close relationship with the natural world teaches me humility. I am not the center of all of this. I am a participant in an ecosystem that is much larger than I am and I find great comfort in not being in charge.

Being outdoors enhances my sense of wonder. What does that cloud formation tell me about tomorrow’s weather? Which bird sings that song? What is the name of that insect? I imagine it is the same for Charlie. Although he is learning the names of animals, birds, plants and insects, his wondering is still more sensorial than articulated. But, don’t we all wonder at the feeling of wind in our face? Or the heat of the sun on our back? Or raindrops dripping off our nose?

The rest of the phrase which begins in the title of the book I mentioned is “…there are only bad clothes.” Sure, there are times when the weather brings challenges, and I certainly don’t intend to diminish the reality that weather can be very dangerous. But we can prepare, and we can choose to see events of nature not from the perspective of a victim but as a partner. The seasons are part of the rhythm of weather. We need to be stewards within the weather and alongside other parts of creation.

(The weather this past week has been weird, and I think it is cause for alarm. We need to pay attention to climate change and take responsibility caring for God’s creation…but that is another subject for another day.)

But Linda McGurk is right! We all need to spend more time outdoors, even when it’s cold!

Her wisdom came home to me last Friday when I discovered that our clothes dryer was broken.

Now, I have a long and devoted relationship with clotheslines. My mother worked at a bank when I was growing up. She would wash a load of clothes when she got home in the afternoon and then hang those clothes on the clothesline the next morning so they could dry while she was at work. Mama and I had some of our best conversations while I played on my monkey bars and she hung clothes on the line.

On 9/11, I was at home with Hannah and Mary Margaret. We were doing our school lessons when Michael called to tell me what had happened. We didn’t have television, so I couldn’t run and turn the TV on to learn more. I didn’t know what to do except to fill my clothes basket with wet clothes and go hang them on the clothesline and weep in solidarity with other women around the world who were just as fearful and broken-hearted as I was in that moment.

I might be wrong, but I think that same clothesline was the first clothesline the artist Ellen Langford painted many years ago. And just think how many people have through her paintings, gathered around that clothesline in joy and delight and hope.

“A Place of Wonder,” Ellen Langford

So, I love a clothesline…in warm weather, but in freezing weather, I wasn’t thrilled about giving up my dryer, until I actually did it.

I took a deep breath, put on my coat, walked out into the bright sun and put my clothes on the line. It felt wonderful to be at a task outdoors. After freezing, the clothes eventually dried. They were crisp and wrinkle-free! All five sets of sheets I needed to wash went on the line. That night they felt like sunshine and wind…sleeping on them was delightful!

I also put some clothes on our huge wooden drying rack, where they huddled together over the heater vent. Twice-used heat is a good choice with the price of butane! I found our clothes rack on the side of the road, and it has become an essential part of life in our house. I promise not to suggest that you buy a lot of things in our posts, but a wooden clothes rack is a very fine thing to have. Keep watch. One might show up on the side of your road too!

The dryer is repaired now, but I intend to continue to make my pilgrimage to the clothesline more often than I seize the convenience of the clothes dryer. It’s better for the environment, better for the clothes, and a whole lot better for my soul.

Let’s all follow McGurk’s admonition to let go of the moniker “bad weather,” and instead be attentive to weather, describe it (rather than qualify it), bundle up, go outside, and welcome it!

You can find Ellen Langford’s paintings at galleries in Oxford, Vicksburg, Laurel, Tupelo, Asheville, and Atlanta. Here is a link to her website to learn more.