I understand that most young people today don’t own and iron and wouldn’t know what to do with one if they had it. I’ve seen people in clothes that should have been ironed and it isn’t a pretty sight. Manufacturers and major stores advertise that their clothes are 100% cotton, and that’s just fine, but all-cotton clothes rarely look pressed when they’re taken from the dryer. Even the most expensive dress shirts look messy without at least a little touch-up on the fronts.
I remember that as a teen (back in the 50s) we all wore cotton skirts that were very full and made to stand out by crinolines, sometimes two or three. My blouses were white shirts from Ship ‘n Shore and they had to be ironed. I decided that I could iron my clothes myself (an act of rebellion on my part – what kid today would think that was daring?) and I learned in a hurry. The trouble was I wasn’t good at planning ahead, and fairly often I would be ironing a blouse or skirt just before going somewhere in it. Mother ranted that I was wasting electricity by heating up the iron for one item. I did some calculations (I’d had physics by that time) and decided that each session was costing $.05. She wasn’t impressed, probably because her real issue was my lack of planning and doing things in an orderly way.
Talk about orderly systems, to get ready to do the ironing, you would lay out each piece on the ironing board and sprinkle it with water contained in a bottle with a sprinkler gadget stuck in the neck, an empty pop bottle was a good choice. The sprinkler gadget had cork around it so it would have a tight fit. Then you would roll each piece up tightly and lay it in the basket. Ideally, by the time you got to ironing, each piece would be uniformly damp and ironing would make the fabric nice and smooth. The biggest problem with this scenario is that I often didn’t want to finish all the ironing at one time. I’d put the dampened but unironed pieces in the refrigerator. If I didn’t, they would develop mold, and NO one wants to deal with mold spots on clothes! Probably half the women in the country had dampened clothes taking up space in their refrigerators.
When we moved into the house in Peoria, there was a trunk in the attic with several odd items. One was a ceramic sprinkler bottle in the shape of a Chinaman and a poem was on a card around his neck: “More better sprinkle bottle way Than squirt through teethie all the day.”
When I got married, I was faced with ironing a pair of men’s cotton pants. Hoo boy! Where should I begin? Rebellion be damned, I solved the problem by walking two blocks to Mother’s house and having her show me how to do it.
In the 60s clothes began to be made of blended fabrics, mostly nylon and cotton, but sometimes rayon and cotton. And we were blessed with a wonderful invention: the steam iron! To top it off, someone started producing spray starch!! At last the refrigerator was free of dampened clothes and the whole task was immeasurably easier—especially if you wanted to iron one piece at a time.
Over the years I have learned to enjoy ironing. It’s nice to have a job that is actually, really completed. Almost everything in housekeeping is never-ending and you can’t see any improvement after getting the jobs done. But with ironing, every piece starts out wrinkled and ends up sharp and crisp and hanging on a hanger. If there are 6 shirts to iron, you can rejoice when you get to the end of the 6th one. It offers a sense of accomplishment.
To make it even more enjoyable, I learned that when my kids were little, they stayed away when I was ironing. I think it was too boring for them. But, oh, what peace I had! All alone with my GE steam iron and a stack of ironing that would take me as long as I wanted it to. Janet Evanovich writes that Stephanie Plum’s mother ironed when she was anxious. Sometimes she ironed the same shirt over and over and over. I’ve never gotten that bad, because I always have plenty of things to iron, and if I weren’t so busy on the computer, I might even get caught up.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The Old Maytag
I dearly love my automatic washer and wouldn’t give it up unless absolutely forced to do so. But there were some perks to doing the wash in the “old fashioned” way.
Mother had a Maytag wringer washer when we lived in Peoria in 1952. We had an apartment, and since there were two other apartments in the building, we were assigned a wash day. I believe our day was Monday. During the school year Mother did all the wash herself, but come summer I was involved, whether I wanted to be or not. The basement was dark, as I recall, and the outdoor clothes lines were stretched across a miniscule yard in back of our apartment house. One of my jobs was to take a wet rag and wash down each line to make sure there were no bird leavings or aluminum corrosion to soil the clothes. In the winter the clothes were hung on aluminum lines in the basement, and that was handier, but you couldn’t leave clothes hanging there because the other tenants would be using them the next day.
My Mother was very picky about how things were hung on the lines. I learned that you put three clothes pins across the top of towels so they didn’t get sway-backed. And handkerchiefs were folded in half and hung tightly by the corners so they’d be easier to iron. Shirts were hung by the tails, and the tails of T-shirts were looped over the line for about 4 inches so you didn’t have “ears” on the bottoms of the shirts.
When we moved to a bigger apartment in what had once been a large house, we didn’t have laundry privileges in the basement. Our Maytag sat in the corner of the kitchen which had once been a large bedroom. On laundry day it was pulled out and filled with water. We had the attic for storage, and we’d lug the galvanized tubs from the attic and set them on milk crates for the two rinses that were mandatory. The house had a back stairway, so we could take the wet clothes to the back yard in good weather. When it was raining or cold, we hung the clothes on lines in the attic. At least we didn’t have to rush to get the clothes taken down.
We moved to a house in 1954 and had the basement to ourselves. The Maytag sat in a corner waiting patiently for wash day which could now be any day of the week. Mother had a rule of thumb: If the weather was good on Monday, it would be raining on Friday…and vice versa. It never seemed to fail.
Father strung up sturdy aluminum lines in the back yard and in one side of the basement. We’d hang the things that took longest to dry on the farthest back lines. As thinner things dried, we’d take them down so we’d have room for more wash.
After I was married, I used laundromats for umpteen years. In 1973 my husband and I and three children moved back into that house in Peoria. Father had bought Mother an automatic washer, but she took it with her when they moved to the farm. The old Maytag was there, and I knew how to use it. For several months I had a weekly date with her.
There were a lot of advantages to old fashioned washday. For one thing, it was all over in a single day. You started with hot water in the Maytag and cold water in the rinse tubs. White things went in first while the water was hot and clean. When the first load was through swishing, you’d put them through the wringer into the first rinse and load the washer up with load number 2. While #2 was swishing, you’d plunge the clothes up and down in the water and then put them through the wringer into the third rinse. As soon as they were rinsed, you’d wring them into a plastic-lined bushel basket, and take them to the lines to be hung up. When you got back, load #2 would be ready to go into the rinse. Each load took about 20 minutes and we usually had 6 or so loads.
The last load was reserved for rugs and rags. Once it was on the line, you had to empty the washer and rinse tubs, mop up the water on the floor, put things away and wait until it was time to take the clothes off the lines. Nothing smelled as sweet as clothes dried on outdoor clothes lines!
I’ve often thought I would like to do my wash the old fashioned way again, just for the fun of it. When wash day was over, there was a feeling of satisfaction that I don’t get from my automatic washer. I think Mother’s old Maytag is in the barn at the farm, all covered with years of dust. I wonder if it still runs.
Mother had a Maytag wringer washer when we lived in Peoria in 1952. We had an apartment, and since there were two other apartments in the building, we were assigned a wash day. I believe our day was Monday. During the school year Mother did all the wash herself, but come summer I was involved, whether I wanted to be or not. The basement was dark, as I recall, and the outdoor clothes lines were stretched across a miniscule yard in back of our apartment house. One of my jobs was to take a wet rag and wash down each line to make sure there were no bird leavings or aluminum corrosion to soil the clothes. In the winter the clothes were hung on aluminum lines in the basement, and that was handier, but you couldn’t leave clothes hanging there because the other tenants would be using them the next day.
My Mother was very picky about how things were hung on the lines. I learned that you put three clothes pins across the top of towels so they didn’t get sway-backed. And handkerchiefs were folded in half and hung tightly by the corners so they’d be easier to iron. Shirts were hung by the tails, and the tails of T-shirts were looped over the line for about 4 inches so you didn’t have “ears” on the bottoms of the shirts.
When we moved to a bigger apartment in what had once been a large house, we didn’t have laundry privileges in the basement. Our Maytag sat in the corner of the kitchen which had once been a large bedroom. On laundry day it was pulled out and filled with water. We had the attic for storage, and we’d lug the galvanized tubs from the attic and set them on milk crates for the two rinses that were mandatory. The house had a back stairway, so we could take the wet clothes to the back yard in good weather. When it was raining or cold, we hung the clothes on lines in the attic. At least we didn’t have to rush to get the clothes taken down.
We moved to a house in 1954 and had the basement to ourselves. The Maytag sat in a corner waiting patiently for wash day which could now be any day of the week. Mother had a rule of thumb: If the weather was good on Monday, it would be raining on Friday…and vice versa. It never seemed to fail.
Father strung up sturdy aluminum lines in the back yard and in one side of the basement. We’d hang the things that took longest to dry on the farthest back lines. As thinner things dried, we’d take them down so we’d have room for more wash.
After I was married, I used laundromats for umpteen years. In 1973 my husband and I and three children moved back into that house in Peoria. Father had bought Mother an automatic washer, but she took it with her when they moved to the farm. The old Maytag was there, and I knew how to use it. For several months I had a weekly date with her.
There were a lot of advantages to old fashioned washday. For one thing, it was all over in a single day. You started with hot water in the Maytag and cold water in the rinse tubs. White things went in first while the water was hot and clean. When the first load was through swishing, you’d put them through the wringer into the first rinse and load the washer up with load number 2. While #2 was swishing, you’d plunge the clothes up and down in the water and then put them through the wringer into the third rinse. As soon as they were rinsed, you’d wring them into a plastic-lined bushel basket, and take them to the lines to be hung up. When you got back, load #2 would be ready to go into the rinse. Each load took about 20 minutes and we usually had 6 or so loads.
The last load was reserved for rugs and rags. Once it was on the line, you had to empty the washer and rinse tubs, mop up the water on the floor, put things away and wait until it was time to take the clothes off the lines. Nothing smelled as sweet as clothes dried on outdoor clothes lines!
I’ve often thought I would like to do my wash the old fashioned way again, just for the fun of it. When wash day was over, there was a feeling of satisfaction that I don’t get from my automatic washer. I think Mother’s old Maytag is in the barn at the farm, all covered with years of dust. I wonder if it still runs.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Does It Dissolve or Float?
My hubby keeps me laughing. I think the quality I have always liked most about him is his sense of humor.
Last night he had insomnia. This morning I asked him what time he got to sleep and he said it was after 3:30. About 3:15 he got up and came down to the kitchen for some milk. He said, "I found out one thing. Nutmeg does not dissolve. It just floats on top of the milk no matter how much you stir."
And that reminded me of the time we came home one evening and found pepper and sawdust (I think it was) floating in water in the bathroom sink . Puzzled, we asked the girls who had done it, and found out it was Robin. "I wanted to see if pepper and sawdust would float."
As they say, the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree.
Last night he had insomnia. This morning I asked him what time he got to sleep and he said it was after 3:30. About 3:15 he got up and came down to the kitchen for some milk. He said, "I found out one thing. Nutmeg does not dissolve. It just floats on top of the milk no matter how much you stir."
And that reminded me of the time we came home one evening and found pepper and sawdust (I think it was) floating in water in the bathroom sink . Puzzled, we asked the girls who had done it, and found out it was Robin. "I wanted to see if pepper and sawdust would float."
As they say, the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Those little notes that accumulate beside the telephone are tantalizing. Every once in awhile the stack gets to unruly proportions and I decide to thin it out. Sometimes I find notes about things I was supposed to have done....weeks or even months ago. Ooops!
Then there are the cryptic ones that leave me puzzled.
In my latest purge I came across one that said "366 E. Hickory Kan 815 932 8124." I couldn't think of any contact I had had with Kansas in the past couple of months. I was about to add the note to the "important but unknown" stack when I remembered that you can do a reverse search of phone numbers on the Internet.
Wonderful! Turns out it wasn't Kansas; it was Kankakee, and the note referred to the address and phone number of a Catholic school. I must have been doing an article for the News Bulletin and jotted the information down so I could include it in the story.
Mystery solved. Note tossed in the circular file. Life is good.
Then there are the cryptic ones that leave me puzzled.
In my latest purge I came across one that said "366 E. Hickory Kan 815 932 8124." I couldn't think of any contact I had had with Kansas in the past couple of months. I was about to add the note to the "important but unknown" stack when I remembered that you can do a reverse search of phone numbers on the Internet.
Wonderful! Turns out it wasn't Kansas; it was Kankakee, and the note referred to the address and phone number of a Catholic school. I must have been doing an article for the News Bulletin and jotted the information down so I could include it in the story.
Mystery solved. Note tossed in the circular file. Life is good.
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