My Life

Just a little bit of my story. I write in bits and pieces as the information comes back to me. The I try to put them together logically.

We lived in many houses throughout my childhood, but the place I always called home was 310 S Main St. My mother moved there with her parents while my dad was overseas. I have so many memories of this place.

I remember having specific chores. On Saturdays my mom cleaned house. I was the duster. I always liked to have music playing while I worked. Those were the days of what we would call now, elevator music. The big bands played dreamy music. I remember laying awake nights with the radio on. For some reason the song, Moon River, comes to mind.

Each spring my mom would clean the house, from top to bottom. The windows were all opened up and the cool, fresh breezes would fill the house. It smelled so good after having everything closed up all winter. All the curtains were taken down and washed and hung out on the clothesline. All the closets were turned out and things in the trunks were also hung outside to air. New mothballs were added when everything was folded back inside. The kitchen cupboards were opened and dishes that were stored were washed and returned. Sometimes even the wallpaper was cleaned. Back then we had a sillyputty type stuff that was rubbed over the wall and it cleaned the dirt off. As it was used, the stuff would slowly turn black and then you got another handfull. I thought it was fun, but it was a lot of work.

Sometimes the folks decided it was time to change the wallpaper. Then out came the long boards, stepladders, brushs, large pans and rolls and rolls of paper. A long board was set up in the empty room and newspaper covered the floor. A paste was made up in a pan and the walls were measured. Several pieces of wallpaper were cut to the exact length needed and put one on top of the other laying face down on the long board between two sawhorses. Usually this was a two person job. One person brushed the paste onto the paper. One end was folded into the middle, then the other end was folded in to meet it. It was then carried to whoever was on the stepladder and unfolded to place on the wall. I've seen this done so many times. It always seemed like such fun. I actually got to do it myself, when we bought the Point. I still enjoyed it , even though I had to do it myself. Nowadays, the paste is already on the paper and you only need to get it wet.

We never had a dryer before we lived in Fleetwood. Mommas wringer washer was in the back room. Clothes were hung on the line that lined the sidewalk in the back yard. We didn't have permanent press clothes, so everything had to be ironed. She used an old pop bottle filled with water and with a sprinkler stopper in it to wet down the material.

Reviews

[Mister Jones]

I enjoyed this- I love plain old real-life stories that are chock-full of details like this.

[Robert]

I didn't know you liked wallpapering so much. No wonder you hated 36, there was no wallpaper to change! See ya later.

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

A wonderful write. You brought back many memories of my childhood. Thank you for sharing. Debileah