Wash Days

On Mondays we girls didn't go to school.  It was wash day and it seems the whole town knew it.  You washed clothes on Mondays and scrubbed the floors and windows on Fridays.  On wash day in the winter the lines were strung from door facing to door facing and we ducked under fresh smelling clothes if we got up during the night.  We were dared to touch anything till it got dry.  I remember one time it got colder than what Granny thought it was going to be and grandpa's underwear froze on the line.  We laughed so hard because we girls didn't think they would thaw out.  We thought he would have to walk around like that.  On Mondays she built a big fire up in the cook stove and the  tub was placed just right, the water boiled and in went the soap and then the big stirring stick, if we came near the stove, she'd scream at us to get back.  That old wringer washer worked it's little heart out.  I remember grandpa replacing motor after motor.  They boiled, she put them in the washer to wash, then in the rinse water till there was no soap at all.  She put blueing in the water to turn the sheets white.  I was always surprised how they came out.  She made her own starch with flour and water and the sheets and pillow cases went in it.  Well, this was not the end, out on the line they went and after that, she'd sprinkle them with water and wait, then across the ironing board they went to be pressed so slick, you'd slide off.  I loved to lay on those big feather beds on wash day.  That's a whole new story.  There were no such thing as a fitted sheet, they had to be tucked in all the way around.  Granny ironed every thing that could be ironed.  Dish towels, pillow cases, all our dresses and slips, which were made from sack cloth bleached out to a perfect white, home made by Granny.  My favorite new pair of bloomers made by her, the elastic was perfect because they were made to fit, not store bought.

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