Since joining this site memories of my childhood that I'd totally forgotten have come flooding back to me. I'm going mad trying to remember the name of a soft stone which my mother used to whiten the steps leading up to the front door. On Mondays Mum would be up at the crack of dawn to do the laundry. She always wore a wrap around pinny and a headscarf tied at the front in a knot, Mum called this a 'turban' In the warm weather Mum would light a huge washing boiler 'thing' in the scullery and then clean the laundry by adding soap powder (Daz or Surf) and a 'Dolly Blue' and then bashing a wooden tripod 'thing' into the boiler. It all then had to be rinsed in the big stone sink and then taken into the yard to go through the mangle (what a contraption that was!) After going through the mangle all the washing was hung out to dry on the clothes line in the yard. My sister, me and our dog were never allowed to play in the yard on Mondays for fear of getting the clean laundry dirty again. The next day when it was all dry, Mum used to continually have to heat a couple of flat irons on the stove and then spend hours ironing. In the winter Mum would cram my young sister's pram with the laundry that needed washing and we would walk to the launderette in Upper Brook Street. The launderette was a winter, weekly social event, always nice and warm, always busy and every week crammed full of the same women chatting and gossiping to each other whilst the young children happily playing together. We would spend the whole morning there waiting for the laundry to be washed and then dried in huge hot dryers and then feeling very tired.......... we had the long walk home. After the washing was done Mum then had to do the job she most hated doing, clean the huge black stove that covered the whole of one kitchen wall from floor to ceiling. The cleaning and polishing took most of the afternoon but left Mum with just enough time to clean the 3 huge steps leading to the front door. After brushing the steps, Mum would have bucket of warm water and dampen a soft chalky stone in the water, then she would smear the stone all over the front part of the step, when it was dry she would rub the step with a cloth to remove the excess and build up a shine. Sometimes the stone was white, other times cream..What was that stone called, anyone remember? I can remember Cardinal Polish she used on the yard steps but not the name of the stone. Somehow or other, during her incredibly busy day Mum always managed to prepare and cook a 'stew' (made from the left over meat from Sunday dinner) which was always ready and on the table with a mugs of tea for when Dad arrived home from work. The rest of week was just as busy for Mum. The straw matting and rugs had to be lifted and hung out on the line for their weekly bashing. The lino and anything else had to be dusted and polished. There was no such luxury as a vacuum cleaner, Mum had her prized wooden Ewbank sweeper. Mum nearly always shopped at the Co-Op so that she got her stamps for her 'Dividend Shopping was done on an almost daily bases because we didn't have a fridge, just a pantry and a enamelled mesh box for the meats. Towards the end of the week when money was short, food was bought on the 'book' and paid for at the weekend when Dad handed over his wage packet. Does anyone remember the thick blue bags sugar was poured into when being bought and butter being cut from a huge slab and the shop assistant moulding it into shape with 2 wooden spatulas. What about Provident cheques saved for weekly so that new clothes could be bought for Whit Week so that we looked nice for the Whit Walks in Piccadilly. Only God knows how our poor mothers managed, life was tough then but there was always plenty of time for Mum to read us a bedtime story and give plenty of love. Such a pity that I didn't appreciate how hard she worked until I got older. God bless our Mums. Regards Jackie. .

Hello Jackie, The name of the stone for cleaning / whitening the steps / flags was "donkey stone". regards, Alison > > Since joining this site memories of my childhood that I'd totally > forgotten have come flooding back to me. > > I'm going mad trying to remember the name of a soft stone which my mother > used to whiten the steps leading up to the front door.