Poetry Friday May 24, 2019

This week's Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Dani Burtsfield at Doing The Work That Matters. Check out her golden shovel poem about grief and finding comfort. Then connect up with others sharing poetry today.



I am working on poems about a pivotal time in 1958, when my family joined other relatives on an adventure into the Pine Valley region in Northern British Columbia. I'm committed to sharing a bit every week to keep me going. They might not be in any kind of order. I just hope to get some kind of drafts out there. I appreciate feedback on the construction of the poetry and ideas and questions about what information might be missing.

I'v learned that some of them had gas washing machines, so last week I was busy researching the history of these appliances. I've posted a couple of videos at the end of today's post to give you a sense of what laundry day involved. Part of me is now nostalgic for the days when we used to do laundry with an electric wringer washer. 

I'm also immersed in BC logging history, but today's post is all about laundry. I'll have another about washing diapers next week.

Here are links to previous Pine Valley poems. 
Leaving
Characters
Journey
Arrival
Preparedness 
Ready and Willing 
Larder

Laundry

Howard and Lynn
had some fancy
gadgets:
gas lights
and an Easy brand 
gas fired
washing machine.
Had a kick start,
and hit and miss engine.

Didn’t even have to crank
the mangle by hand.

Aunty Margaret wouldn't have
gas lamps in the house,
but loved her old Maytag
gas powered machine.

No wonder
with the crowd
of nearly grown children
she had to tend.

Dorothy and Marianne,
her two girls,
were put in charge
of the contraption
on wash day.

Made life easier,
but those machines made 
one heck of a racket!

And the darn things
were dangerous.

Had to be used outside
or the carbon dioxide fumes
would poison you.

Rollers were called 
a mangle for good reason.
Better mind your fingers
if you wanted to keep them.

Kids had to be watched
like a hawk
around the machines.
Barb, Howard and Lynne's
two year old,
got her leg burned real bad
from the exhaust.

Those machines were 
shared around with others.
But mostly
everyone else used
a washboard and tub,
except when cleaning
heavy duty loads.

Let me tell you,
wash day was some kind of endeavour.

Water had to be hauled
up from the river
and heated on the wood stove
to fill the machine's reservoir.
A square tub for rinsing
was filled with cold.

Come winter, 
the river froze over,
snow had to be melted. 

Laundry was sorted
from the least
to the most soiled,
and washed in that order.

Every load was cleaned 
and rinsed in the same water. 
It was pure nasty
by the time they were finished. 

Ropes stretched between 
a couple of pine trees 
where wooden pegs
hung onto the wash 
til it was dry. 

Ironing was left for the wind to do.