This is a stream-of consciousness recollection inspired by remembering my maternal grandmother, Mama, last week on her 115 birthday.  That led me to thinking about her mother, who gave birth to her, the first of her nine children, when she was sixteen years old. We called her Ma-Ma.  And that led me to thinking about all my mother-figures.  And then, when I was basking in the sweet smell of a freshly-dried white load in my modern laundry room   .  .  .

.  .  .  I wandered into thinking about how my foremothers did laundry.

I think Ma-Ma did it out in the back yard by carrying water in buckets and building a fire under a pot like this.  I am sure, as the oldest daughter,  Mama participated in this weekly chore.

Don’t even think about what that must have been like in Oklahoma winters.

My first memory of Mother doing the wash was in a contraption like this:

(Do not put your fingers near the ringer!)

I have a fond memory of this machine’s being in storage when we moved into a tiny furnished house for a few months.  I walked with Mother to a washeteria a few blocks away where similar machines were lined up.  Each one had three galvanized tubs arranged around it for rinsing.  I thought that was great fun.  I doubt she did. (I was 6.  She was 26.) We hauled the wet things home, I think in my little wagon,  and hung them on a clothes line in the back yard to dry.

When I was raising my family, I always had an up-to-date washer and dryer to use, and in those days, there was a laundry chute from the bedroom-floor to the laundry room.  I pretty much kept those machines going every day. (Do not put your little sister down the laundry chute!)

Now young mothers belabor whether is is more environmentally favorable to use disposable diapers, which end up in the landfill, or cloth diapers, which require lots of water, detergent, and bleach to get them clean.  Think of Ma-Ma with no plastic panties to put on over her babies’ diapers.  No wonder potty-training took place at a very early age!

I honor my foremothers.

These days, I usually have one black load, one light-coloreds, one white each week.  I love to bury my face in that white load while it’s still warm from the dryer.  Life is good.