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Doing laundry for loved ones isn't a new thing for me. Being the oldest in a family of 10 children, I learned at a young age how to sort clothing on piles according to color or soiled condition. In a small concrete-floored room with a drain, to the side of the kitchen, my mother taught me how to wash clothes. In a tub we soaked laundry before we wrung it over into the wringer washer filled with hot, sudsy water. From there, the garments took two more trips through the wringer because my mother used twin tubs to rinse each load twice.
If the weather allowed, we hung the clothing outdoors to dry naturally. When my younger sisters were old enough, they helped me by handing the wet garments to me from the basket. But they were still babies when I first did laundry all by myself, in fact, I was 11 years old when I accidentally got my fingers into the wringer. It wasn't a happy feeling but the pain did not deter me from using a wringer washer.
That appliance was among the needed items that I brought to Piney Creek as a young bride to do laundry for two people instead of 12. When little ones came to our home, I didn't like when they cried when I was missing from their sight on my laundry duty days. Rising early to be finished with laundry before they awoke, was the answer to my problem. It is the one thing that has not changed with the years. I have grown accustomed to doing laundry without interruptions.
I still use a wringer washer but it is hooked up to a drain in a permanent position. A twist of a valve lets down the dirty water. Soaking laundry or double rinsing has fallen by the wayside but I do spin each clean load with the washer. I really appreciate my suds-saver Maytag washer which we bought used from the Department store in 1987. I use it all the time, but there's nothing like a wringer washer to save water, soap and time.
I take clean clothes for granted, rarely thinking on the miracle of my husband's coveralls being washed clean of their grain-dusted and manure-splattered pant legs. The drain oil and machinery grease on our son's jeans must go, as do all other soils, but last week was a first when I washed away Texas mud.
When our son came home last week from MDS house-building, he brought home a small mountain of laundry and grains of sand from the Gulf of Mexico. Over Atlantic waters he and his friends saw the full moon of last Sunday, Jan. 20. We saw it over white snow in frigid temperatures but obviously not too frigid for some moon-watchers who either stayed up or got up to see the eclipse in the night sky.
The cold paved the way for ice hockey here in Pennsylvania. From sea water warmth, to pond ice hockey, the boys are back to the real world. They also attended a singing in Frosty Hollow on Saturday evening. Three vans brought young guests from Lancaster County.
The pond along Fair Valley Road isn't fit for skating but sledding was on the agenda for our grandchildren. On Saturday my husband and I attended their program where we heard them sing and recite many memorized pieces. It was our first day of the week to share with grandchildren.
Right the next day after worshiping in Piney Creek church, our ride took us to Lafayetteville to our middle daughter, where we met all the rest. She and her family went all out to serve us a delicious meal. Although the outside world boasted no color, it was vivid and cheery indoors. Yellow, orange and peach glasses and drinks and treats complimented the blue of our paper plates. Balloons hung from the ceiling and the peach-colored cake looked fluffy like the bear he was. With his marshmallow ears, paws and nose, he looked like a teddy sitting in the middle of the table. Three yellow candles spoke of Conner's birthday but the song we sang was for five of the family all gathered round.
The only other outing of the week was to be present with other neighbors and family at the home of John and Mabel Newswanger to make funeral arrangements since the death of their son Lavon.
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