Blog Archive

Monday, June 8, 2020

TAKING FOR GRANTED, GIVING THANKS


        It’s amazing what we all take for granted. Just now, I took my chenille bathrobe out of the dryer. I hadn’t finished the laundry yesterday. I was cold wearing just my nightie. My bathrobe was wonderfully warm. I put my arms in the sleeves and wrapped it around myself. It felt so very good. I was no longer cold, but enfolded in warmth. My dryer provided this pleasurable sensation.
          It made me think about all the things I take for granted and have for much of my life. All the modern conveniences that make my life easier and better. They are just there and I use them without thinking day after day after day after day.
          My grandmother had to make her own soap. She used ashes from her fires and fat from the hogs slaughtered each year. It certainly wasn’t Tide or Dove or available on the shelf of the local country store. Grandma washed clothes in a much different way than my mother eventually did and I do now. She boiled a vat of water, put the dirty clothes in, sloshed them around for a bit with a stick, pulled them out one at a time and scrubbed them on a scrub board. That was a wavy piece of metal set between wood edges. Clean, the garment was then submerged into water again to remove the soap and finally hung to dry on a clothes line.
          I can certainly see why people back then only bathed and changed their clothes once a week. If I had to go through that today, you can be certain I wouldn’t be putting today’s clothes into the hamper to be washed and dried at a later time.
          My mother’s life was a bit easier, but I can remember her using a washboard when we lived in Idaho. After we moved to Seattle, she got a wringer washer, and once a week, she pulled it from its corner in the kitchen and did laundry. In the summer, she hung the clothes and linens outside in the sun. In the rainy winter, they were hung in a shed adjacent the house. Still not easy-peasy. I don’t remember that changing until my parents left that house. It was then she got the washer and dryer that I had immediately available when I moved into my apartment. No washboard for me and I have taken for granted my wonderful washer and dryer ever since.
          I was just telling my granddaughter last week that I’d never had a garbage disposal or a refrigerator that dispensed ice and running water. I also told her I hadn’t and didn’t miss ever having them. The dishwasher is a different story. I didn’t use it much until after John passed away. He liked to do dishes and used Ivory bar soap as his cleanser. He said it kept his hands soft…he did have very nice hands even though he worked with them all the time. I didn’t like using Ivory bar soap. It really didn’t cut the grease very well. When I did the dishes without using the dishwasher, I used Dawn on my scrubber.
          Once John died and I had to do the dishes, I turned to the dishwasher. It has a half load cycle which is almost perfect. Just last week, my walking partner told me about an express button…we have the same dishwasher. That’s even better than the half load and only takes 30 minutes instead of an hour and 45 minutes. The dishes came out just as clean. And, yes, I could do all my dishes by hand each and every day because there aren’t many and I always wear rubber gloves.
          Now, those rubber gloves are something else I’ve always taken for granted. Can you imagine how harsh grandma’s lye soap was on her hands and those of my mother when she became old enough to help. They never ever wore rubber gloves no matter what they were doing. I have worn them all my life…to do the dishes, to clean the house, to clean the bathroom, to rinse out poopy diapers. I cannot imagine doing any of that without my trusty gloves. My dad was a baker and told me there were some things you just had to mush about with your bare hands. I have much thinner gloves for times like that. About the only time I didn’t and don’t wear rubber gloves of any sort was to wash myself or my children.
          The warmth of my bathrobe has dissipated, but I’m still not cold because of the central heat. I was born on the floor in front of a fireplace because that was the only warm place in the house. I remember the stoves in the two houses we lived in in Idaho. They didn’t provide heat throughout the house and had metal pipes that carried the smoke to the outside world. Those pipes got really hot and I have a scar somewhere on the back of my left arm from scooting behind the stove and not making myself small enough.
          Once in Seattle, we had a furnace, but the heat wasn’t piped to every single room. Instead, the furnace was beneath the house and the heat came up through a couple of floor registers. Want to get really warm…stand over that register in a long flannel nightie and let the hot air blow up around your body. Of course, I got all the heat at that point and it didn’t go anyplace else. I don’t really remember being cold in that house, but I do remember ice forming on the inside of the single-paned windows.
          My house came equipped with a furnace and ductwork to each and every room. The only times I’ve been cold here is when the power went out. The longest period was five days and it became sooooooooo cold inside. I think the covers on my bed weighed more than I did. We used the fireplace, but you were only warm in front of it and had to turn yourself as if on a spit to warm both sides.
          Mustn’t forget about the stove. I would have preferred a gas stove, but an electric one works just fine. I remember how my grandmother took care of the electric stove in her apartment. It sparkled every single day because I think it was a revelation to her. If she could see mine right now, she’d be appalled. The closest I’ve ever come to cooking without a real stove is using a camp stove. Still, that’s not like cooking over an open flame in order to feed ten or more people at one time. My grandma was one tough woman.
          What about the refrigerator and freezer? Back in Tennessee, I believe they put perishables in the closest running water. I even remember having a friend when I was very young who had an actual ice box for a fridge. John remembered having ice delivered to his house when he was young. Now, I just open a door and take out cold milk or vegetables I bought several days ago, or jars of mayonnaise and mustard. No need to make a batch each time I want a sandwich. John and I bought an upright freezer about 52 years ago. We’ve had it repaired just once in that time. I’m still using it, and, knock wood, it will continue to keep my meat and berries and other stuff frozen for some time to come.
          I don’t have central air conditioning, but if I do certain things early in the morning, the house remains pretty cool on a hot day. Otherwise, I do have a window air conditioner I can actually put in place myself. The heat doesn’t bother me as much as it did John…69 degrees and cloudy was his idea of perfection. For the last decade or so, we always had the window air conditioner in place in the living room for John’s comfort on the days it was 70 plus degrees.
          There are so many things I take for granted, I could probably go on discussing them for pages and pages, i.e., wanting to can fruit and vegetables rather than having to do so for survival, having the funds to purchase whatever I need from a store (or Amazon), being able to travel more than 50 miles in an hour or less, etc., etc., etc.
          Today is Sunday, a day on which I was raised to believe you gave thanks for all your blessings. And, I do, I do give thanks for every single thing in my life that makes it easier and better, more pleasurable and desirable, far more so than it was for the women who proceeded me.

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