Posted tagged ‘wringer’

“Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day.”

February 8, 2018

Today is a beautiful day, chilly but still beautiful. Yesterday we had rain, a deluge at times. Off cape got snow so I was happy for the rain. We were just too warm for snow, 10˚ warmer than Boston.

I have nothing on my dance card for today. I’m going to stay around the house. I have some books to keep me busy, and the bird feeders need to be filled. Those are enough accomplishments for today.

My cleaning couple haven’t been here in a month. They usually come every two weeks, but they were in Florida for the second two weeks. Last night Lee called and said they couldn’t come today. I immediately panicked. Visions of the vacuum cleaner, dust rags and mops jumped into my head, and I was the one using them. It was a daytime nightmare. When I told Lee, he promised they’d come on Monday, and I was to do nothing. That’s when I stopped hyperventilating.

When I was little, the house was always vacuumed and dusted, and the dishes were always washed. When I left for school in the morning, my bed was a mess. When I came home, it was made. I never ran out of clean underwear. All day long my mother worked in the house and did the same things every single day. She washed the breakfast dishes, left them to dry in the strainer, made all the beds upstairs, collected laundry, brought the clothes to the cellar to wash, came back upstairs and cleaned the living room. Some time later, she’d go back down to the cellar and put the clothes through the wringer a couple of times. Finally she’d go outside and hang the clothes on the line.

I seldom saw my mother do all these things as I was usually in school. It seemed sort of like the elves and the shoemaker to me. Leave dirty clothes. Find clean clothes. It was a daily miracle I never appreciated until I was older.

“On the Sixth Day, God created man, the sort of result you often get when you go in to work on a Saturday.”

May 6, 2017

The rain started late yesterday morning.  It was torrential at times including when I was driving to the vets. I could barely see the road. Luckily, though, it stopped just as I got to the parking lot. Gracie and I hurried inside. She is not a fan of heavy rain. It is still raining.

Gracie has been incontinent at night. She has been drinking bowls and bowls of water. Yesterday she managed to be sick twice, on my only rugs. I called the vets so we went in for an afternoon appointment. The vet eliminated an infection and figured it was old age. She gave Gracie pills for the incontinence and a few pills for her occasional dizziness. Last night for the first time in a couple of weeks Gracie made it through the night though she hadn’t had any pills yet. Isn’t that the way! I remember my toothaches always went away when my mother made an appointment at the dentist.

Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week. When I was a kid, it meant Saturday morning TV. It was eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast while sitting on the rug in front of the TV set probably going blind from sitting so close. In winter it was the matinee. In the warmer weather, it was the day to ride my bike all over town.

In my whole life, I never worked on a Saturday. I never did homework, and I never corrected papers when I was teaching. All the weekend chores were saved for Sunday. Saturday was for me.

All my days are Saturdays now. Chores get done whenever. I am horrible at getting my laundry washed and put away upstairs. The other day I did finally wash all the clothes, but some of it is sitting on a chair in the living room waiting to be hauled upstairs and the rest of it is still in the dryer wrinkling by the minute. I can’t imagine how my mother managed to do a wash just about every day on a machine with a giant tub and a wringer and then she had to hang it out to dry. Mothers were superhumans.

Today I have nothing needing to be done though I might just bring the laundry upstairs. I’m not going to get dressed. I’m staying in comfy clothes. A nap is a possibility. It’s Saturday.