There are so many things a Mother does. Being the youngest of 8 here are some "mom" stories I recall. My Mom was born in 1920 in a log cabin in WV. This was pretty much "country folk." Her Mother did not marry. My Mom was not pleased when I chose the same route. I did not leave my child for my parents to raise, however where hers did. This post is not about me.My Mom grew up on a farm where they raised lambs. Her grandfather was a no-nonsense farmer and didn't think twice about killing off any unwanted puppies or kittens in a harsh and barbarian way.
My Mother only used an automatic washing machine at the Laundromat. Or rather, the type we are familiar with. She used a washboard early on. My oldest sister married in the late 60's and her husband worked for the H00ver company. They purchased a little washing machine that my mom used for 30 some years. It was avocado green.
I found this photo on the web at www.automaticwasher.org. Kudos to them for the memory. The green you see inside was the color of the unit my Mom had in her kitchen.
I literally had to wrestle this job from her in the early 80's. My Mom never let us do much in the kitchen. I am not exactly sure why. Basically the only cooking job I had was to mash the potatoes for Sunday dinner. I remember that if my Mom boiled the potatoes in the black coated pot, I had trouble keeping the black flecks out of the potatoes. Most of the time we used cheap, aluminum pots and iron skillets.
I can remember my Mom hauling the clothes out of the washing bin and into the spinner on the right. She was not a large woman. Her clothes were tiny and light. Her children's were another story. I can only imagine how she felt washing jeans. I remember the smell of Lestoil she would use on my brother's jeans and work clothes.
She did have an automatic dryer in the kitchen. (Also in avocado green!) On wash days she would wheel the little portable washing machine on wheels over to the kitchen sink and wash away. I remember mornings waking up to the sound of that spinner and it shaking the house. She always reached her hand in to get the clothes out before the dang thing stopped spinning. And she let the hose drain into the sink instead of back into the washing bin. She said the clothes were too dirty to do that. I can still see the gray bent hose pumping the water out, purging it into our kitchen sink.
And I will never forget the smell of water that has sat in a rubber tube for a week.
Thank you to all who had made the job of washing clothes easier for Mom's and everybody else.
I can remember my Mom hauling the clothes out of the washing bin and into the spinner on the right. She was not a large woman. Her clothes were tiny and light. Her children's were another story. I can only imagine how she felt washing jeans. I remember the smell of Lestoil she would use on my brother's jeans and work clothes.
She did have an automatic dryer in the kitchen. (Also in avocado green!) On wash days she would wheel the little portable washing machine on wheels over to the kitchen sink and wash away. I remember mornings waking up to the sound of that spinner and it shaking the house. She always reached her hand in to get the clothes out before the dang thing stopped spinning. And she let the hose drain into the sink instead of back into the washing bin. She said the clothes were too dirty to do that. I can still see the gray bent hose pumping the water out, purging it into our kitchen sink.
And I will never forget the smell of water that has sat in a rubber tube for a week.
Thank you to all who had made the job of washing clothes easier for Mom's and everybody else.
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