IN THE BED, NO DREAD
OF RISING IN THE MORNING
TO MAKE MY CLOTHES CLEAN
What a lucky lady to have a new washer with a wringer even!
About oneta hayes
Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
Monday was always wash day in my home … and I remember, once, as a small child seeing a great aunt use a wringer. It seemed like a lot of work to me!
I think my mother and extended family members were very happy to get the wringer. It had probably been developed a long time before reaching my people. We were country and poor in those days.
As a child I hated wash day Mondays my poor Mum always looked so tired when I came home from school. She had a new wringer but she once said squeezing by hand was easier that lifting wet clothes and feeding into the device she had.
I don’t remember for sure what Wash Day was for my mom. She probably had one. I’m sure we did not have enough linens and clothes to last more than a week. No, I would never choose to wring by hand. Some things did need to be put through more than once, however.