This is a book about people who are shaped by the places they live and the times they've lived through. I hope I have painting a portrait of the place we chose to live in and loved.
Laundry and bottles for two babies was not easy. Formula had to be mixed. Bottles had to be washed and sterilized, then stored in the frig.
Morris had purchased a used wringer washer with an electric motor on it and a double tub on a stand.
These sat out on the back porch. I had to pump a large pan of water at the pitcher pump that was on the left hand side of the sink, then carry it across the room to the small apartment sized electric stove to heat. While the water heated I had to fill the two rinse tubs with water. No water hoses then. Had to pump and carry it bucket by bucket to those tubs that were also on the back porch. When the water was hot I carried it out to the machine on the back porch, then filling the swishing tub with dirty clothes that hit the suds one by one with a satisfying plop and burble. Like a hungry monster, the washing machine pulled the clothes downward into the steaming, soapy water. After a moment, they’d rise like undersea monsters, pale colors and shades of white, mounded like the smooth back of some undersea creature… then they’d swish and swoop downward, only to rise and do it again.
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