Monday’s wash day was as predictable as Sunday’s roasted chicken with gravy at our place. As much as I can recall, over those years of growing up out on the prairie, it rarely EVER rained on Mondays! Seriously! The only thing that dared over rule Mom, was a severe thunderstorm, which again in her wisdom & belief in our Higher power, she never disputed.
It didn’t matter where I was at play,.. I was expected to answer: ‘the call’. Because…one of my chores was to help Mom hang up the wash. Basket load after basket, I pulled the smaller items out, grabbed clothes pegs from the tin, and handed them to her. For the larger ones, I helped keep them off the ground until they were folded to her specifications and NEVER touched the ground.
B L T …Before Lane’s Tents…
In spite of my mischief, I learned from an early age, however, that sparkling clean laundry, swaying from our endless line, in the summer wind, was a matter of utmost pride to her!
We drove into town to shop and pick up the mail, have coffee & ice cream with neighbors at the local café’ as soon as the wash was bleaching naturally in the sunshine. So the quicker we got the clothes out, the sooner we went out. As I sat in the back seat, I of course had my own opinion as I did on most things. I believe my Mom secretly compared all of our neighbor’s wash to hers as we drove past??? But that will remain one of those little mysteries about my Mother’s life. It’s good to remember she had a few of them.
Seasons for laundry were all rolled into one. Like the mail, the laundry got delivered on time. Winter definitely had its challenges and I can remember Mom carrying in Dad’s long johns and standing them in the front room beside the wood stove! Really! I must sound like I am part of the Walton clan. It wasn’t quite like THAT! But we did have wood heat in the winter when I was little. Dad’s wool socks were on shaped stretchers and the arms on my sweaters were outstretched like a school patrol! As they thawed, that wonderful fresh air aroma filled our main level. I still love the fragrance of fresh aired laundry. I am blessed to have LG appliances but love to hang out specialty items…not because I have to…but because I can!
Looking back, I feel extremely fortunate to have had the experience of knowing and remembering what: ‘doing Monday’s wash’, the old fashioned way, truly means.
MONDAY’S WASH originally: by Summer Wind
Sky is clear… No sign of rain…
Monday morning … Is here again.
Mom beckons me … From my play…
We hang out the wash… The ‘old fashioned way!
Sun is glorious… Summer wind is light…
My Mom’s curtains… Are snowy white.
Neighbors wave… While passing by…
Tea towels flutter… Their own reply.
Dad’s thick wool socks… Make me scratch…
While Mom hauls out… Another Batch.
My favorite jeans… We hang out too…
Tee shirts, and shorts… Look just like new!
Dad’s long sleeves… Mom’s pretty slip…
Then she tells me… “One more trip!!”
Pillow cases… Blankets bright…
Will smell like the summer wind… Tonight.
By the time… We get back home from town…
I’ll have to help… Take the whole thing down.
Monday’s wash… Started our day
And we hung it outside… The ‘old fashioned way’.
Thanks once more for reading.
Do you happen to know anyone who doesn’t enjoy a campfire? I do but can never figure out why.. It’s an experience and a treat that I have loved all of my life and a tradition that I can happily say, my kids have continued on in their own lives. We had hundreds together while they were growing up…all the days tidbit hassles were put aside as we sat gazing into the dancing sparks of a fire light, watching our marshmallows blacken.
Thank you Dad & Mom for all my great memories that I have to share.
AND…Thank you, to my grown up children for all the unique camping memories we made together, many of them in the rain. We are still making more of these memorable times, these ones include the blessings of my grandchildren.
I’ll be back soon with: THE CAMPFIRE
MemoryLane @ www.pagesofmymindblog.com