First Person
A Dishrag Speaks
Dear Readers,
On this fine spring day, we travel back in time exactly five years, to April 23, 2020, in the early days of the pandemic lockdown, when Kay received a letter from one of the hundreds of Ballband Dishcloths she has made over the years. It seemed like kind of an open letter, so we took the liberty of publishing it in its entirety.
Our beloved contributor Ballband Dishcloth No. 103 is doing well, full of cottony goodness and reclusive as ever. If you have any questions, drop them in the comments and we’ll try to get an answer for you!
In the meantime, commemorate this anniversary with us by casting on a Ballband Dishcloth—or take a peek behind your washing machine. You never know what you’ll find back there, and it might be a sweet memory.
—Ann and Kay
Dear Kay,
I’ve been waiting. I knew this day would come. When you knitted me, back in 2006 or so, I was just one in a series of mad dishrags that was getting more eccentric (eccentricker? I am a dishcloth, not a copy editor) by the day.
You started out real basic, just slipping those stitches, alternating one color as the background and a second color as the bricks. Then somewhere in late summer—I’m remembering high-pitched little voices and sandy grilled cheese sandwiches—you changed. I think you were down to the dregs of some of your colors of dishcloth cotton, and you went kind of nuts on us.
Those of us in the Summer of ’06 dishcloth class wore our oddities as a badge of honor: the little blasts of intarsia blocks in the middle of the otherwise pedestrian rows of bricks in that classic slipstitch pattern, the background colors that just up and changed in the middle of the row. We kind of dug it. We were the Breakfast Club of dishcloths.
One thing was for sure: we didn’t match a goshdarn thing in anybody’s kitchen. The kitchen had to match US, you get me?
Some of us got a little full of ourselves. One dishcloth was putting on airs about Albers, although truth be told I can’t remember if it was Josef or Anni. (I am a dishcloth, not an art historian.)
And then there was Pink Triangle. Pink Triangle was insufferable. Just because you have a hot pink intarsia triangle cutting across several rows of your bricks including the background color doesn’t mean you’re special. Have a little humility, it’s an attractive trait in a dishcloth.
At some point, I think it was getting to be close to Labor Day, I was over it. The high-pitched shriekers were freestyling with the ketchup, as I recall, and I’d been through one wash cycle too many. Counter fatigue, a constant state of dampness, and the washing of children’s faces (ew!) got to me.
So: I just walked away. I got the heck out of Dodge. I had every intention of coming back soon, maybe at a time when you’d appreciate me a little more.
It may have been a cliché, but I went behind the washing machine. It was nice there. I thought you’d miss me—the work of your hands—and you’d come for me.
Soon I was joined by a matched pair of gym socks, which seemed kind of contrary to Socks 101, but OK.
It was a big surprise when a genuine, albeit child-sized, New York Yankees “away” jersey, number 2 appliquéd on the back, slumped back there with me and the socks and the dryer lint. (OMG so much dryer lint!) One would think that a reasonably diligent mother of an eight-year-old boy would go looking for such a thing, but no. Baseball Shirt was with me for the duration. I’ll tell you what, I know a heckuva lot about “Derek Jeter.”
I knew we’d get out someday. We kept hearing about front loaders and high efficiency machines and wondering if you were ever going to get that memo, remove your circa 1990 toploader washing machine to make way for a new one, and voila: there we’d be, glaring at you with our nonexistent hands on our nonexistent hips. Once, if you can believe it, we heard you going on about how the best thing you could do for the earth was not send a washing machine to the scrap heap if it still worked. I’ve thought about that a lot, but then I didn’t have a lot of other things to think about LIVING BEHIND A WASHING MACHINE.
Last Monday night was nothing special. Shirt, Socks, and me were minding our business as per usual, stiff with laminated dirt but jauntily be-fluffed by dryer lint. We heard you muttering about a placemat, we saw you grab the spray bottle of stain remover from the shelf above the machine, and then BOOM.
You drop bottle, bottle hits hose, hose disconnects from washing machine, water floods into basement, hitting a smoke detector and causing every other smoke detector in the house to scream in unison . . .
IT WAS OUR MOMENT. It was happening.
First, after a bit of shouting—proud of you for not shouting more, actually—things got quiet. Then things got dry, as fans blew the ancient dryer lint around. Somebody plugged in a vacuum cleaner, and a pair of kitchen tongs reached down and grabbed us, dust clumps and all.
Here I am today, freshly washed for the first time in 14 years, blinking in the springy sunshine of 2020, looking every bit as respectable as I did in 2006.
I’m not proud of this, but I was dying to see Pink Triangle.
The years have not been kind to Pink Triangle.
The phrase “rode hard and put up wet” comes to mind. You might want to retire it, or Visible Mend it or something. Bless it, but it’s time.
Glad to be back, and good to see all the cute new dishrags in the drawer with me. But hey: do these 33-stitch dishcloths make my rows look big?
Yours devotedly,
A Ballband Dishcloth
I am laughing outloud!!! Thank you for an early morning laugh and inspiration to knit own washcloth and give it personality! This is a post I will re=read when I need a lift!
Thanks for writing, BD No.103.
Makes me wonder what my beloved Sweater, worn to bits and closely resembling poor Pink Triangle, might say….
Oh my goodness, this post has made my day! Thank you xxxx
A Kay Klassic! Just loved it!
I think about this post when I look at the sad brown BBD in my sink. May be time to let her retire.
Ya know, I was just thinking about this. I couldn’t find any of my scrubbies. Looked in the basement laundry, nada. Mine all became victims of the dishwasher explosion of December 2022. Definitely past time to make more. Thanks for the smile today
This was the perfect first read in the morning! Thanks for sharing!
I was hoping to find news on Pink Triangle–thanks for not disappointing. Wishing #103 best of luck as a countertop stylist. Oddly, last night, packing for our road trip, I had dug out my bag of old cotton to make–dishcloths. I will now begin my travels inspired. Thank you for this!
Thanks! I needed a good laugh!!
Just what I needed this morning! Thank you.
I needed this laugh. Woke up sore, tired, congested i.e. pollen. When I read this I stop feeling bad about pink triangle’s cousins who live at my house. So yes maybe it is time to make some new ones.
Adorable, just pulled out a few of mine on Easter and wondered why I don’t use them everyday! Thanks for the Great Escape piece! Loved it!
Loved reading this! Who knew our beloved dishcloths have such witty personalities!
I have no idea what is behind my dryer; nothing has been moved since we moved in here 11 years ago. I hope that whatever might be there has fared as well as your dishcloth!
HILARIOUS. I often wonder about what’s behind our dryer, but it’s been so jammed into its slot, we’ve been told by a contractor that we’ll need to remove the wall (no woman would have designed it this way) when the dryer dies… When we moved into the house 8 years ago (it had been empty for 2 years before we bought it), I found a pair of silk undies, a silk camisole, a L O T of lint, a bracelet, and a bunch of loose fake pearls IN the lint basket. I love our dryer and hope it never dies, but getting behind it will be like opening a time capsule.
Makes me wonder what is behind my washer and dryer! I’ve been here almost 6 years.
Funny the first time, even more so this time! Thanks, Kay.
Well, well, No. 103, who knew you were such an entertaining writer! Wonderful that you’ve returned to your rightful place….perhaps we’ll hear more of your adventures in future posts??!!
Thanks for the update, BD 103! I wonder if you’ll get tired of working so hard after such a long rest. Or will you be happy to enjoy the sunshine and soap suds? After all, that is your purpose in life. You’ve aged well, now go forth and rock those dishes! Thanks for inspiring me to make some more cousins for you. Our bathroom needs hand towels.
Our washing machine died a spectacular death recently. It was shedding bits of plastic and rubber from inside the door into the drain, and flooded the laundry room. My hubby and his nephew installed the new one, so I’m not sure exactly what they found, but there was a nearly full trash bag of clothes. The new machine is stacked with the dryer, which means 1. the back is now accessible and 2. it’s a lot less likely to lose anything behind anyway, because the stacked units are so high even I need a stepladder to see the control and I’m 5’11”. So we are obviously not putting anything on top.
Aah, the sweet comfort of my absolute favorite MDK column of all time after an unwelcome wake-up thunderclap of the severe thunderstorm! ❤️
What joy to read this talented prose of personality, imagination and creativity! I want to be a friend of The Spirit who wrote this gem!
Loved it! Especially since, when I was a child in the 1940’s, my mother and i had many conversations with “The Educated Dishrag.” I don’t know whatever became of it, but a few days ago I did find a much-loved hoodie that had lived tor 3 years behind some boxes in my cluttered craft room! Ah, what joy!
You have a fantastic imagination and are a great story teller! I really enjoyed this and could feel for the dishcloth haha..loved it!
I laughed the first time I read this 5 years ago and I’m laughing again. Thanks
I may have a ball and dishcloth waiting for a repair by the sewing machine now. Still not sure how hubby cuts every single one because he can’t wash a knife properly after 35 years. I blame his mother.
This was another good laugh for the day, and so true! I hesitate to use handmade dishcloths because I hate to see them cut so quickly.
When a knitter can express the feelings of a dishrag, who can say empathy is dead?!! I’m happy for you, Dishrag, and Pink Triangle had nothing on you.
Love this!!
BD No. 103 looks pretty darn good…makes me think of going behind the washing machine for a while. Thanks for the wonderful update, No. 103!!
I’ve always refused to knit a dishcloth, but now I might have to do it.
Ha ha! Same here.
Nothing but love for this ode!!!! Casting on now for a knit down memory lane!!!
Darling:) My first read of the day, and it made me smile. Thank you.
Moving the washer? Time dictates that it’s soon. … and maybe time for making dd some new face clothes too. She’s getting married! Where’s the cotton yarn cone?
Exactly.
Now that is some first class writing!
103, I hope to see more contributions from you! You made my morning, which these days is really something.
This was hilarious!
HOW did I miss this at its original publication? Thank you, #103, for your brilliant reportage, and thank you, Kay, for this reprise!
How in the world have you explained 2025 to 2006 dishcloth?
Warmer weather is when my thoughts turn to dishcloth making. I have one named Tennessee Sunset that I riffed up during the pandemic. I still have her, and she’s doing well. It’s good to see how Pink Triangle is doing.
One of my all-time favorite MDK letters–which is saying something. Forgot that it appeared early in the so-called lockdown era. Did we ever need a good laugh then, and do we ever now.
Cheers to you, No 103, and your terrific ghostwriter.
I loved this in 2020 and I loved it today! So many things fall behind our washer and dryer – the last straw was a bottle of stain remover that did a triple somersault out of the cabinet above the washer to wedge itself between the machines at the back. I was tired of moving the machines and it finally dawned on me to buy a long “grabber” tool to keep in the laundry room. It also helps retrieve doggie tennis balls that roll too far under the furniture.
I loved this when originally posted, and it still makes me laugh now. My favorite column! Thanks for re-sharing.
a terrific piece of writing!
I’ve knitted some ball band dishcloths myself and I’ve been gifted with a ball band by a good knitting friend. They are durable!! Thank goodness they aren’t behind my washing machine.
I love this post. My fingering knitted dishcloths give me joy every day and I thank Ann and Kay who got me started — I knit my first ballband dishcloth decades ago.
My mom was recently helping in the kitchen and went to swipe up spilled salsa on the counter and I yelled “not with the knitted dishcloth!” It was my favorite and I couldn’t bear a stain. My mother said I was nuts and I agreed but I just needed it to stay nice for a while longer.
I once wrote a story about a teddy bear made in a German factory for a shipment to an American exchange store, so he was taught to come to attention and salute!!! A big Master Sergeant purchased this bear for his little son. And on and on. Sheesh! I was a seriously depressed and lonely junior officer stationed far from home. . . . thanks for a fun read!
Dear No. 103, It is nice to hear that you are still out and about on the countertop. I wanted to let you know that one of your distant cousins in the Pacific Northwest travels to work with me a couple days a week in my backpack with the important job of cuddling an apple or hard-boiled egg as part of my lunch. You made me smile in 2020 and are definitely doing it again.
That is hysterical! You totally made my day. Thanks for sharing.
Delightful! Love you Ballband dishcloth!