Age 7.
My Mom was always busy. I can never remember my Mom sitting on a couch with her feet up on a foot stool, listening to the radio or reading a book, In those days, when a young woman agreed to become the wife of her favorite boy friend, she automatically signed a contract to become the chairman of the board, the president, the secretary, the chief medical adviser, the family seamstress, the dietitian, the master chef, the social secretary, the gardener and the religious adviser of the new family. If she was lucky, her mother had trained he well in all these areas. If she was not lucky, she would have to learn all these positions while more than likely her husband was making stupid comments such as, "well that's not the way my mother did it." or "Sweetheart, I'm fix'n to go fishing with my bothers this weekend. Will you please prepare a two day camping package, including food!"
Following are a few of the unique responsibilities she inherited as a new wife.
Darning stockings: Just because a hole was worn in a stocking was no reason to discard the stocking. Mother just mended the stocking. She usually left this task until late in the evening just before bedtime. She would insert a light bulb into the stocking and then using yarn would weave back and forth until she had created a new piece of cloth to fill the hole. I was happy when she was mending stockings because she could talk to me while she darned.
Canning fruit and vegetables. This was called "canning" even though cans were never used. I guess it was easier to say "canning" than to say "bottling". This "canning" became a major task during the Autumn season. I can remember that corn, beans, tomatoes, apples, peaches, pears, pickles and jams and jellies were "canned" in quart bottles and then stored to be consumed during the winter months.
Butchering chickens - Although this was a family operation, Mom was definitely the Commander-in-chief. She would order my father and me to the chicken coop to butcher a certain number of chickens. After this was done, my mother was in charge of removing the feathers. She then gave the chickens to my father for the "gutting" or removing the insides of the chickens. She then instructed my father to cut the chickens into breasts, wings, drumsticks, thighs, and backs. The chicken was now ready to be fried at tomorrow's dinner; featuring fried chicken..
One of Grandpa's favorite OPP's (old people poems)
A row of bottles on my shelf, Caused me to analyze myself.
One yellow pill I have to pop, Goes to my heart so it won't stop.
A little white one that I take, Goes to my hands so they won't shake.
The blue ones that I use a lot, Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.
The purple pill goes to my brain, And tells me that I have no pain.
The capsules tell me not to wheeze, Or cough or choke or even sneeze.
The red ones, smallest of them all, Go to my blood so the pressure won't fall.
The orange ones, very big and bright, Prevent my leg cramps in the night.
Such an array of brilliant pills, Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I'd really like to know, is what tells each one where to go!
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