In the continued pretense that adults get to do what they want, I persist in reading in bed before sleep. I usually pick up something I’ve read before since I am easily pulled into a great story. Maybe that’s why my bookshelves are groaning with obscure reference books instead of riveting stories.
But domestic history fascinates me, even when I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. Something possessed me to pick up one of my books about the history of household chores.
It’s been nearly 100 years since the introduction of the washing machine in the average household. In her book Never Done, author Susan Strasser describes the day long process of washing the household clothes and linens. And when she says day long, she means ALL DAY. The fire building, the water heating, the beating and agitating of the clothing, all coupled with caustic soaps left homemakers with chapped hands and what must have been some hefty biceps. And I would bet I’m one of the last people in my generation to know about “Blue Monday.”
One of the laundry standards was returning your linens to a bright white state. Natural fibers that come in contact with body oils yellow with age. There are various ways to counter that.
Very few of us have clotheslines in our back yards anymore, which thankfully save us from seeing our neighbors’ underwear hanging on the line, but many people now use chemicals to bleach their clothes instead of the UV rays in natural sunlight. Another forgotten trick was to use a diluted blue dye to counteract the yellow tinge.
For anyone familiar with the Foxfire books, the second volume has a chapter that describes in detail how to wash clothes in an iron pot. The process is documented from start to finish, from the water spout creation, to the making of the high bench to beat the clothes upon. Charming to read about, but one of the many things that does not make me long for the past. Nor do I long to devote an entire day to washing my clothing. And that’s just the wash. Ironing takes up the entire second day of the week.
As a child being fascinated with my dollhouse’s washing machine from the 1950s. I’d ask my dad to explain the rolling mangle. “Mangle” always seems like something you didn’t want to do to your clothes!
But despite its adorable color, I think I’ll take my energy efficient machine any day. It may not be a glamorous part of my life, but thanks to the homemakers that came before me, it’s not a major part of my life. My Mondays are no longer blue.