Monday Laundry and a Fright at the Ringer

Monday was laundry day, but first Mom would wake up at the crack of dawn, put on a clean housedress and get Dad off to work. Next, she would make our lunches, usually out of leftovers from supper. She had about an hour before it was time to get us kids up. This was Mom’s quiet time before getting us up for school. I remember Mom sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee, smoking a cigarette, and crocheting one of her beautiful doilies. An activity we might find very difficult, Mom used as a relaxation. She accomplished a lot in that short hour everyday. Later on, it added up to many family treasures. Breakfast usually consisted of hot cocoa with buttered toast or with peanut butter sandwiches dunked into the hot cocoa. Sometimes we had cocoa wheat and sometimes poached eggs. We had to be at different places at different times, so Mom served each one of us as we came out, so our food would be hot. We kids would wake ourselves up, and rush into the bathroom. After Dad put in the new bathroom, there was a schedule for how long we could be in there. If you missed your turn, too bad. Then we would eat breakfast, grab our lunches and run out the door to catch the school bus. In grade school we took the bus. In junior high we walked to school, until Bob got his first car; then he drove us. After Mom got us off to school I always imagined she would sit at the kitchen table, light a cigarette and take a big breath. How did Mom manage all of us without any chaos? We just must have been really, really good kids. Monday was always the day that Mom did laundry. How she ever got all of this done in one day is beyond me. Mom started very early in the morning. She would go to the well, carry in big buckets of water, heat the water on the stove, and then carry it down to the basement. The clothes were all sorted, and Mom always washed the white clothes first. Dad’s clothes were always done last because they were the dirtiest. I remember one time I was helping Mom with the laundry. I was guiding the clothes through the ringer and my hand got too close, it pulled my hand and arm right through. Mom released the top of top of the ringer so fast. SO FAST! I was startled more than I was hurt. Scared me to death. After the clothes were washed, Mom would dip the collars and articles of clothing she needed crisp-looking into a starch solution she cooked on the stove. While one load was agitating, Mom was hanging another load on the line. Like an artist at work, Mom hung miles and miles of clothes on the line to dry. Towels and sheets, the white clothes and undies blowing in the wind; fresh and clean. The clothes were then folded into ten neat little piles and put away. Embroidering our initials on our underwear and socks made it a lot easier for Mom to match them up. At least three baskets were left behind and sprinkled down with water, ready to be ironed. I wonder if she had any pet peeves like turning socks right side out?

TUESDAYS—

Mom always did her ironing on Tuesday. When we were younger, Mom used to stay up late into the night ironing the clothes. She waited until we were asleep so we wouldn’t get in her way. When we got older, Mom would do the ironing in the day and she would even let us help her. First Mom ironed the pillowcases and Daddy’s handkerchiefs. I remember Mom listening to the radio as she ironed and ironed for hours. Literally everything was made of cotton, and had to be sprinkled down and ironed. In those days you ironed everything: sheets, pillowcases, slips, scarves, crinolines, dresses, skirts, blouses, all of dad’s work clothes, Bob and Bernie’s white shirts—everything. Eventually, Grampa bought Mom a “mangle.” He thought this would help her with all of the ironing she had to do. The Mangle was approximately thirty-two inches long. It consisted of a padded barrel that revolved when a foot pedal was pushed with your foot. Behind the barrel was the heating panel, which when tightened put pressure on the revolving barrel and pressed the clothes. I wonder if the mangle really made ironing any easier for Mom. It sure was intriguing, but Mom kept it strictly off limits to us kids.

WEDNESDAYS—