If I am not in a rush I separate the family washing and hang each person's clothes onto the different quadrants of the Hills Hoist, in a bid to help me with my Achilles Heel of Washing, the Putting Away. This way, if I fold as I bring it in, it is pretty much sorted and could be put away in a twinkling of a bedpost.
It's good in theory, anyway.
This shot is fairly typical of how my quarter of the washing line looks, except I didn't show you my underwear. Which is mostly Melbourne-black, by the way; if you want pure cotton underwear you have to forgo pretty or colourful undies.
