You're right, Pat... (or do you go by Patricia? ). There is no better sleep than to crawl into freshly washed, clothesline dried, and ironed sheets, and the aroma was heavenly. I can still hear the sheets "snapping" as they hung in a brisk wind. Mother had two of those irons that you mentioned... the kind you would heat on the stove or in the fire place. When my sister and I were small we would turn them upside down in our laps and use them and a small hammer to crack pecans, walnuts, brazil nuts, hazlenuts and almonds, which were only available in the fall of the year. We also only had oranges and tangerines in the weeks around Christmas, which made them such a treat! Mother told us that, when she was a girl, she and her siblings got an orange apiece (and nothing else) for Christmas, and were thrilled! She said she peeled the orange and ate it, licking every drop of juice from her fingers, and dried the peel to eat later, like candy. The family lived way out in the country, and the children's Monday chores included getting the water ready for washday. They had to carry buckets of water from the spring or creek (depending on where they lived) to fill the big kettle in which the clothes were boiled. Then, after building the fire underneath the kettle, they went to feed the chickens, gather the eggs, slop the pigs, get cleaned up, eat their breakfast and go to school. One morning the spring water was being poured into the kettle and the baby brother toddled onto the porch and fell into the nearly full kettle. If one of the older kids hadn't been nearby he would have drowned for sure. My grandparents lost six children before they were aged seven, one a baby girl who toddled down to the creek and drowned. Grandpa heard Grandma, then twenty and pregnant with her sixth child (only two of which had survived their birth days), screaming and ran from the field to see the baby lying in the stream. He said the hardest thing he ever had to do was close her little eyes. I have a photo of her that I'm pretty sure was made as a posthumous remembrance. They kept it hanging on the wall of their home as long as they lived. The sixth child was born and died later that same year. I always felt that my grandmother was a bit reserved toward us kids, and I didn't understand it until I found her in the 1900 census, aged 21, the mother of six with only one living. She was to lose one more young child, to diphtheria, at age six. In all they had sixteen children, of which my mother was the eleventh. Ten lived to be grown and married, but none lived as long as either of them, except my mother, who exceeded her mother's age, but not her father's. Grandma lived to ninety, and Grandpa to ninety-five. They lived to celebrate their seventy-sixth wedding anniversary. Gees, here I go again! I must get some work done! 8~) Carolyn HALE BRUCE, DAR, IBSSG, VBGS Co-author, Rebel King, Hammer of the Scots Rebel King, The Har'ships and Rebel King, Bannok Burn See all the books we publish at: www.bruceandbruceinc.com (Angus MacKilt shirts, too!) ----- Original Message ----- From: "Patricia M. Ginalick" <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Thursday, December 13, 2007 10:54 AM Subject: Re: [VASHENAN] Catching up on things > Carolyn, > > Your recollections bring back so many memories. > > I'm a baby boomer and remember my parents and grandparents describing many > of the same things you did. > > There was a woman in my mother's neighborhood in Washington, DC during the > War who lost all her sons. The practice was to put a gold star in a front > window representing fallen ones and this particular neighbor had four > stars > in her window. The image of those stars and the sacrifice of that > particular family has remained in my thoughts throughout my life. > > Your descriptions of activities of daily routine living also remind me of > both sets of my grandparents. All women in our family used the wringer > washers and clotheslines. And ironing was a mainstay of daily chores. > One > grandmother owned a big ironing press like you'd see in a cleaner's shop > which she used for sheets and pillow cases. I also recall she had a small > stove burner adjacent to her washing machine where she "cooked" the starch > before adding it to the washer. When ironing my grandmother would take a > large soda bottle and make holes in the metal lid then refill with water > to > "sprinkle" the laundry as they ironed. No one could iron like my > grandmother and there was no pillow case in the world that could possibly > have the same fragrance of fresh air, bleach, and starch like hers did. > My > mother-in-law (who grew up near Charlottesville) recently gave me her > mother's old black iron like you now see in antique shops. Her words to > me > were "you never know when you'll need it." Major power outage? No heat - > no lights - no appliances - the world as I know it in my home comes to a > sudden halt - but there's no need to worry because as long as there's a > fire > I can heat up that old iron and take care of priorities....... > > I started to write a book a few years ago about memories of the way my > family did things in the past for my children and grandchildren to reflect > upon someday perhaps when their children and grandchildren are interested > in > learning about the daily lives of their ancestors (my generation). The > first chapter is about laundry practices! > > My grandmothers also cleaned their floors the way you described. One > grandmother had a small rubber mat to kneal on as she polished her > hardwood > floors BY HAND. When it was time to wash windows the curtains were also > washed - bleached - starched - then pressed. When I think about how much > work was done to maintain a simple household I'm amazed there was time for > much else like knitting or sewing which seemed like recreation compared to > the hard work of cleaning and cooking, not to mention childrearing. And > of > course there was yardwork too.....with push mowers and NOT the kind with > motors! > > I think of the Amish community (which I visit a few times a year because > of > my quilting activities) and understand why many people are fascinated to > visit and watch them go about their daily routines. Many of us are drawn > to > the simple ways.......and appreciate the basic values of hard work > followed > by bone-deep satisfaction only to do it all over again the next day. > > Thanks for your thoughts........I'm motivated to get busy with my > housework. > Memories of my grandmothers are putting me to shame as I sit here at the > computer drinking coffee, still in my bathrobe. They would have had their > laundry on the line nearly dry, breakfast dishes washed and put away with > lunch in mind, and the "sweeper" in action by now. > > Patricia Ginalick > > -----Original Message----- > From: [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]] > On Behalf Of Carolyn Bruce > Sent: Wednesday, December 12, 2007 9:32 PM > To: [email protected] > Subject: Re: [VASHENAN] Catching up on things > > Kris, the "so pure and so simple" things of yesterday are only pure and > simple from our years of perspective. When World War II was being fought, > our young men were overseas in various countries we had never thought much > about, fighting enemies we didn't understand, and dying by the thousands > every month... 405,399 in four years, including those who died from > disease > and accidents. The family across the street from us had four sons and all > of > them were in the service, army, navy, and marines. They all came home > unharmed, and were very lucky. You may have heard of the Sullivan > brothers, > all five of whom enlisted in the Navy, served together, and died when > their > ship was torpedoed and sank the day after I was born. Hardly anyone > realizes > that there were other sets of brothers on the ship, including four Roger > brothers, and three Combs brothers. > > Nearly one in every four American men were in uniform, and scores of > thousands of women. Meat, sugar, shoes, gasoline, tires, and other > necessities were rationed. My mother did without a new pair of shoes for > most of the four years of America's participation in the war because she > had > three boys and two girls, all of us needing shoes (except the baby). We > were > fortunate to have a private phone line when everyone else we knew had a > "party line", if they had a phone at all. My dad was a railroad man (an > important war industry) and he had to be available to be called for work > no > matter at what hour. The "call boy" would telephone and Mother would bake > bread and fix Dad a hot breakfast and a lunch to take with him on the > road, > while he shaved and dressed. He would then eat his breakfast and report to > work a couple of miles away, and all in about an hour's time. Dad earned > about 15.00 per day, and was only guaranteed eight hours between trips, > though usually it was more like twelve or fifteen. The two of them raised > us > on his earnings, and Dad's garden and hunting trips, the latter keeping > meat > on the table when it was otherwise unavailable. Unlike most families, we > had > a car, though Mother and we kids usually went to town on the bus. Students > and most teachers walked to school. The elementary school parking lot was > only big enough for maybe five cars. > > Mother and other homemakers saved bacon grease, anything metal, > newspapers, > and other things that were needed and salvaged for the war effort. No one > threw out clothing that was torn or worn; it was mended. Mother had a > treadle Singer sewing machine and kept it busy. My aunt, who lived nearby, > liked to have a sip of "spirits" now and again... another rationed item. > She > hired my two oldest brothers to pick dandelion greens, at five cents a > gallon bucketful, which she then turned into dandelion wine. It takes a > lot > of pickin' to fill a gallon bucket, and that was quickly enough of that. > > There was no air conditioning, of course, and we slept all summer with the > windows open and just a hook on the screen door. We had a coal fired > furnace > and a hot water and radiator heating system, which meant that one of the > boys had to fill the automatic stoker before going to bed, otherwise the > fire would go out in the middle of the night and the house would be quite > chilly in the morning. With coal as a fuel, there were clinkers that had > to > be removed from the firebox every day to prevent the burned out coal > residue > from reducing the amount of heat the system would provide. Clinkers could > be > taken out when hot or cold, and had to be left out for the garbage men to > pick up. Some people used them as one might use gravel, to "pave" unpaved > driveways and pathways. Coal was delivered in a big dump-truck. The driver > would back the truck down the driveway and put a chute through the window > below the side porch, and the coal would be sent down the chute into the > coal bin. When all the coal was unloaded, the chute went back on the truck > and the window closed. I can taste the coal dust right now. > > On Monday, wash day, Mother went to the basement and filled the tub of the > Maytag with boiling hot water and added detergent and white clothes. The > water was so hot that she used the handle off an old broom to pull clothes > out of the tub and up to the wringer, which squeezed the water out. The > clothing fell into a tub of cold water to which she had added several > drops > of "bluing", which made the whites look whiter. Pushing and pulling the > shirts and sheets and other white things through the cool water removed > remaining soap suds, and she then ran them all through the wringer, again. > White shirts, my pinafores, and Dad's work overalls and jackets would then > be put into thick liquid starch she had prepared on the stove. From there > they went into the clothes basket, and hauled up the basement stairs and > down the back porch stairs to the clotheslines. After wiping the lines > down > with a clean damp cloth, she would hang the clothes out to dry in the sun > and wind. After they dried, they were taken back into the house where the > shirts were sprinkled down and prepared to be ironed the next day. All > this > was repeated for the towels, sheets, light colored clothes, and lastly > dark > clothes. She would have three lines of clothes hanging up before she woke > us > to go to school, at least when I was in school. > > Oh, yes, did I mentioned that she also milked our cow Midge (this was > after > the war), churned our butter and raised chickens? She could wring the > necks > off two chickens at the same time. Then, scald, pluck, clean, and fry 'em > up. While they were cooking she would make homemade bread from scratch, > bake > it, and serve the whole thing up with hot gravy. She sold butter, > buttermilk, and eggs to many of our neighbors. She mopped the kitchen > floor > twice a week (no shiny vinyl tile in those days), rolled up the living > room > and dining room rugs and cleaned and waxed the hardwood floors about once > a > year, cleaned the windows spring and fall, and sewed play clothes and > pajamas for us kids from the feed sacks. And she handmade quilts until she > was about eighty. > > Maybe things were simpler, but they were simple because life was > difficult. > And we lived in a suburb, not out on a real farm, where things were much > more difficult! At least we had central heat, indoor plumbing, and > electric > appliances. At that time, a large percentage of, if not most, people who > lived out in the country did not. > > My goodness, I didn't mean to go on so. > > Carolyn HALE BRUCE, > DAR, IBSSG, VBGS > > Co-author, Rebel King, Hammer of the Scots Rebel King, The Har'ships and > Rebel King, Bannok Burn > > See all the books we publish at: > www.bruceandbruceinc.com > (Angus MacKilt shirts, too!) > > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > [email protected] with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes > in the subject and the body of the message > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > [email protected] with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message >