Laundry Day

By Mary E. Adair

Laundry can be such a bore
Washing and drying is a chore
I really don't want to do it any more
Then I think about G'ma's back so sore

My washer and dryer inside the kitchen stand
As others do now throughout the land
But G'ma's day started the day before
When firewood was piled up outside the door

For G'ma washed outside using a huge kettle
Made to last with cast iron metal
She placed it on heavy rocks that stood around
The fire she built upon the ground

The water was so hot her hands would burn
So she used a stick the clothes to turn
I'm sure she had a length of time in mind
For all the clothes and each different kind

After boiling them with soap til they were done
She lifted them out with a stick, a sturdy one
Then into a tub of clean cold water to rinse
Then wring them out and hang them on the fence

After such treatment they dried in the sun
And all were quite wrinkled, every one
So of course everything had to be ironed flat
With a heated flat iron, and that was that

Washday took at least three days in a row
And while the clothes boiled there was garden to hoe
And mealtimes fell in there with whom else to cook
And the recipes hardly ever came from a book

So maybe my laundry day with pizza for lunch
Isn't just a mite better, but a whole bunch
And the clothes come from the dryer without a scrunch
And my memories have given me quite a punch

I'll try not to gripe, mutter or scowl
While folding up neatly each and every towel
And send praises to G'ma whose back doesn't hurt now
And give her a thank you, and a belated bow.

©Feb 28, 2011 Mary E. Adair