Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Laundry in Olden Days
From the e-mail bag:
Years ago an Alabama grandmother gave the new bride the following recipe:
This is an exact copy as written and found in an old scrapbook - with spelling errors and all.
WASHING CLOTHES
Build fire in backyard to heat kettle of rain water.
Set tubs so smoke wont blow in eyes if wind is pert.
Shave one hole cake of lie soap in boilin water.
Sort things, make 3 piles
1 pile white,
1 pile colored,
1 pile work britches and rags.
To make starch, stir flour in cool water to smooth, then thin down with boiling water.
Take white things, rub dirty spots on board, scrub hard,
and boil, then rub colored don't boil just wrench and starch.
Take things out of kettle with broom stick handle, then wrench, and starch.
Hang old rags on fence.
Spread tea towels on grass.
Pore wrench water in flower bed. Scrub porch with hot soapy water. Turn tubs upside down.
Go put on clean dress, smooth hair with hair combs.
Brew cup of tea, sit and rock a spell and count your blessings.
Years ago an Alabama grandmother gave the new bride the following recipe:
This is an exact copy as written and found in an old scrapbook - with spelling errors and all.
WASHING CLOTHES
Build fire in backyard to heat kettle of rain water.
Set tubs so smoke wont blow in eyes if wind is pert.
Shave one hole cake of lie soap in boilin water.
Sort things, make 3 piles
1 pile white,
1 pile colored,
1 pile work britches and rags.
To make starch, stir flour in cool water to smooth, then thin down with boiling water.
Take white things, rub dirty spots on board, scrub hard,
and boil, then rub colored don't boil just wrench and starch.
Take things out of kettle with broom stick handle, then wrench, and starch.
Hang old rags on fence.
Spread tea towels on grass.
Pore wrench water in flower bed. Scrub porch with hot soapy water. Turn tubs upside down.
Go put on clean dress, smooth hair with hair combs.
Brew cup of tea, sit and rock a spell and count your blessings.
* * *
That may sound pretty far-fetched to you young-uns, but I’ve “been there–done that”, and have a love affair going with my washer and dryer. Here are my memories in rhyme on the subject:Woman’s Work
The gasoline powered washing machine
has just laid down and died.
We’ve gone back to the rub-board,
scraping knuckles, losing hide.
Use the barb-wire fence for clothesline,
socks and undies on the tree.
If the mule eats Daddy’s long-johns off the fence,
y’all don’t blame me!
Sprinkle down a stack of ironing
for tomorrow’s scheduled day.
Clean the lamp globe, fill the oil can,
say your prayers and hit the hay.
Rise and shine, daylight’s a-wasting,
prunes and oatmeal down the hatch.
Turn the coal oil on beforehand,
light the burner with a match.
Heat the iron til spit will sizzle,
wipe the soot on paper brown,
smooth the wrinkles quick and sure,
‘cause time will cool the metal down.
Feet and legs are tired and aching
standing too long in one spot.
Attitude’s becoming testy,
cheerfulness has long been shot.
Have you ever wished to go back
to those good old days of yore?
I remember them with love but
hope they’re gone forevermore.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
The gasoline powered washing machine
has just laid down and died.
We’ve gone back to the rub-board,
scraping knuckles, losing hide.
Use the barb-wire fence for clothesline,
socks and undies on the tree.
If the mule eats Daddy’s long-johns off the fence,
y’all don’t blame me!
Sprinkle down a stack of ironing
for tomorrow’s scheduled day.
Clean the lamp globe, fill the oil can,
say your prayers and hit the hay.
Rise and shine, daylight’s a-wasting,
prunes and oatmeal down the hatch.
Turn the coal oil on beforehand,
light the burner with a match.
Heat the iron til spit will sizzle,
wipe the soot on paper brown,
smooth the wrinkles quick and sure,
‘cause time will cool the metal down.
Feet and legs are tired and aching
standing too long in one spot.
Attitude’s becoming testy,
cheerfulness has long been shot.
Have you ever wished to go back
to those good old days of yore?
I remember them with love but
hope they’re gone forevermore.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
