The Good Ole Days...46º

Chilly, chilly outside this morning, Herb can attest to that...He just came back in the house after hanging a load of wash on the clothesline...The sun is up but nothing is heating up very fast outside, supposed to get to 76º today...I think hanging clothes outside is coming back into vogue, as people try to use "solar" power and cut down on the use of electricity...Hanging clothes outside was the only option when I was growing up...They called it freeze drying in the winter, Mom would hang everything outside early morning, then later in the day bring it all back in the house (stiff as a board), and drape/bend it over every available surface and it would eventually dry...It didn't seem like an inconvenience, I just remember the fragrance that filled our house as everything dried.

Sometimes I don't have much control over what I write on any given day...I titled this post "fresh produce" but my mind went in a different direction and now I will change that to "The Good Ole Days." I wrote this essay several years ago and it seems appropriate.

WASH DAY IN LAKE FORK

I pushed open the back door, coming out of the cold into the warm house on a dark December morning.  I took off mittens, heavy coat and wool hat, then struggled with cold fingers to remove my buckled overboots. The milking and chores finished for another morning. Daddy followed me in from the barn, shedding his coat and hanging it up before he washed up for breakfast. Mom was busy sorting clothes but looked up at him and smiled, he gave her a quick hug as he walked by.

 As the welcoming warm air of the house surrounded me the odor of lye soap permeated my nostrils; it mingled with the smell of ham and beans cooking for our dinner, on the back of the wood cook stove.

The washing machine stood in the middle of the washroom surrounded by dirty clothes; Mom had sorted the clothes into big piles of whites, light colors, darks and really dirty clothes. .  I washed up, started the toast and set the table, putting thick cream and sugar out for the oatmeal and coffee. Fresh side-pork sizzled in the frying pan.  We had hearty appetites after milking ten cows, separating the milk from the cream, putting the milk in ten-gallon cans, and into the cooler.  Calves, chickens, and pigs waited to be fed.  There would be more to do after breakfast, but for now we concentrated on eating everything Mom had cooked.  As Daddy added cream and sugar to his second cup of coffee, he said, Della you stay and help your Mother with the wash, I can feed the cattle and sheep this morning without your help.” 

I quickly cleaned the table, did the dishes before going to the washroom. Mom had the washer filled with water, she added grated lye soap and started the gyrators before adding the first batch of whites.  I checked all the pockets a second time to make sure nothing had been left in them; maybe I would find some loose change that Daddy had missed.  Also I turned down and cleaned the rolled up cuffs on Daddy’s bib overalls, because they always had dirt and hay chaff in them. Mom didn’t want hay in her washing machine.  Mom was very particular about how things went into the washer; first, only lightly soiled whites, sheets etc.; then, light colors and continuing on until last came the really dirty clothes.  I loved running everything through the wringers, being careful to keep my fingers away from the wringers and folded the buttons to the inside of a garment, preventing them from breaking.  Everything went through two wash waters and two rinse waters, the whites going first into warm water, then into the second, hot water. 

 “Della, remember to turn the socks wrong side out for the first wash, then after going through the wringer, catch them and turn them right side out before going into the second wash. Otherwise they won’t get clean.” 

“Yes, Mom I already did that to the first load and am almost through with the second.”

 Ten to twelve loads of clothes waited to be washed.  On sunny days, even in the dead of winter clothes were hung outside. After the last rinse clothes were shaken, to get rid of the wrinkles, then laid out straight in piles. I picked up the first pile and put them over my arm, and with the clothespin bag tied around my waist, overboots, a heavy coat and hat on, I made my way to the clothesline.  Usually, in winter, the snow was frozen hard enough that we could walk on top of it.  If not Daddy had dug a narrow path and cleared snow from under the clothes lines. No matter how cold it was, I didn’t hang Mom’s washing haphazardly or mix things up.  Every towel, pillowcase or sheet hung together in a group very straight.  It took several trips and 3 to 4 hours before we finished washing. Now all four tubs had to be emptied by draining the water into buckets, and then dumped down the sink drain or in the summer we carried it outside to water flowerbeds.  Mom wiped out the wash tubs and rolled them back into the corner, placed a sheet over them and as she did I glimpsed a nostalgic look on her face. 

“Mom, how long have you had this washing machine?”

“Oh, only a few years. Don’t you remember the Christmas in Utah when “Daddy” had them delivered on Christmas Eve? 

“No, maybe I was too young to remember or I was only concerned with what Santa was bringing me that year.”

“Mom said, I was so surprised when the new washing machine arrived and it has made my life so much easier. The old machine had a gas motor that was stinky and hard to start and it only had one tub with a make shift rinse tub. I love this one with its two wash tubs and two rinse tubs in two units.” Then her mood changed as she said, “ Enough talk now, look at the time, Daddy will be in for dinner soon, please go set the table and I will be there in just a few minutes.”

Our dinner of ham and beans with huge slices of homemade buttered bread was eaten about noon, with a short rest afterwards. Later in the day, we brought in the washing, most of it frozen, stiff as boards.  It was then hung upstairs on lines, also downstairs over chairs in front of the wood stove.  After the sheets finished drying, we would remake the beds. I could hardly wait to have my bath and crawl between the crisp, fresh smelling sheets.

 Afternoon over now and it was again time to milk the cows and do the same chores that had been done that morning.  Supper most nights was bread and milk with left over cold meat from another meal and home canned fruit from the cellar.  Bedtime soon followed because 5am came early.

Daddy had a surprise for Mom that year, when the day before Christmas an electric clothes dryer was delivered and installed.  Every winter, she treasured the dryer that made her life a little easier. But come spring, clothes were again hung outside to dry, because nothing smells better than a bed made with line dried sheets.  Unless, of course, it is the smell of lye soap mingled with the smell of ham and beans. 

Mom and Dad 1950

Dad, Mom, Gramma Parkin