I heard a story recently about the famous artist David Hockney and his mother.
She was out from Yorkshire visiting for the first time at his fancy house in California.
He took her outside and showed her the fabulous vista,
and all the plush villas nestling in the valley.
She shook her head and said 'that's terrible'. Her son asked what she meant, was it not a beautiful sight?
'A fine drying day like this and theres's not one person has their washing out'