Younger

 Found this photo, it was most likely taken around 1991 or 1992. 

Amazing Far Guy had hair...well some hair.  My hair was quite long and was not yet grey. 

When I showed this to Far Guy he said "What in the world were we doing?"  

The photo was taken at our old resort Pine Springs and we were moving dirt around in forms so that we could pour cement.  We were making cement pads for the campground.   We borrowed a cement mixer from Uncle Archie and mixed the cement and poured it ourselves. 

We were younger then. 

Far Side

A little helper

 I am still wading through old photos.    I am stuck in the 1950's. 

Deer Hunting.   My Dad and his brothers are in the yard after the hunt.  Most likely (Uncle Ervin and Uncle Adolf)

Help arrives...

Happy to be included.

Never mind that I had a dish towel tied around my head...I must have been throwing winter hats off...and my Mother found a way to keep my ears covered. 

Photo taken at the farm where I grew up...and the year...most likely 1953 or 1954. 

Far Side

Wistful Wednesday : 1961

I found this old photo from 1961

I was ten years old. 

That is most likely my birthday cake.  My baby brother would have been seven and my other baby brother almost one.

This photo was taken in the first remodeled kitchen at the farm.

My mother made my baby brothers shirt and that bib overhauls my other baby brother is wearing.
She sewed the curtains too they were a pale yellow with a brown design. 

Note the days of the week flour sack embroidered towels hanging next to the old rotary dial wall phone...with a short cord...it was beige.

The plaster of paris fruit hung in the old kitchen too...and must have been a favorite of my Moms since it appears in the new kitchen.  The new kitchen had birch cupboards with stainless steel hardware...and a double sink.  The linoleum on the floor was a medium green color...it was a tiny hex pattern...I scrubbed it many times.
Far Side

Midway Memories: 1968

In 1968 my not yet Father In Law called my Mother and asked if he could employ me for the summer; $40 a week, room and board.  So Far Guy met me at my Uncle Otto and Aunt Marie’s house in Clarissa Minnesota.  The first spot I was out that year was Paynesville Minnesota.  On the way over Far Guy told me that someone named Bill would say “She is prettier than the gal you were with last night.”  And sure enough that is what happened.

That is me in the little joint.

The sixteen year old gal raised on a farm was about to get a whole new education.  I would meet many new people and learn how to work the diggers.   Far Guy’s Dad was a good teacher, I worked with him almost exclusively.  At that time there were two sets of diggers the big joint and the little joint.  The little joint belonged to Far Guys Mom because she bought it from her brother with money she had saved from teaching school.  So there you have it Far Guy worked with his Mom and I worked with his Dad, there were twelve diggers in the little joint and sixteen in the big joint.  I was warned that if I didn’t move fast enough I  might get an elbow in the ribs…(I was warned by Far Guy and his sister)…apparently they were slow movers.

A carpenters nail apron was tied around my waist.  Quarters were in one pocket and dimes in the other.  I would make change for a dollar…two quarters and four dimes and throw the dollar bill in the metal money box on the floor.   Nickels were kept on the back of each machine so you sould make change for a quarter.  I learned to replace prizes after they were won and what each price could be redeemed for…a rabbits foot was a free game, as were coin purses, a knife and a churchkey were 30 cents and a free game, table top cigarette lighters were 50 cents and a game.  They were all paid with dimes.  There were also two tokens they were bright orange one was 50 cents in trade and the other one dollar in trade.

Marvin and me  in 1969 or 1970.

Far Guy’s Dad and I would stand back to back in the diggers, I would watch my eight machines and he would watch his.  We would start work at noon or 1 PM at the latest and work until at least midnight. It was a good twelve hour day. We worked hard.  My feet hurt. It was hot, it was cold…but I stuck with it.  Far Guy’s Dad was a good story teller and would tell me stories and I should have written them all down back then. I think he told me stories that no one had heard before.

A rare photo of Far Guy and I working together in the big joint in 1968.

I was sad to head home after the summer, Far Guy was off to College and I was in my senior year of high school.  I got quite an education that summer, I learned a lot about people, and made some life long friends.

I stayed in the camper with Far Guy and his parents.  I had the bed way in back of the camper.  It was a cozy situation but we all made it work.

My baby brother asked me the other day “How did you get Mom and Dad to agree to you going out on the carnival when you were still in High School?”   I am not sure what Far Guy’s Dad told my Mother…what ever it was…I was happy…Far Guy was happy…we had a great summer.

Wistful Wednesday: Dodge Charger and Other Vehicles

Back in late 1980-1981…I was looking for a car.  I was working nights 4 PM til 1 AM, and Far Guy was working 7AM to 4:30PM…we had just bought a house in 1979, interest rates were high at 18 1/2 %.

We think (since we are getting old) that we had the 1978 Plymouth Horizon Black with Orange/Red/Black custom stripes ( I know you had to see it to like it)  and an old 1972 Ford pickup (Black) for vehicles.

I had been drooling over the Dodge Chargers.  Zero to 50 in 6.9 seconds…and good gas mileage…a thoroughbred driving machine.   I only had to drive across town to work….all city traffic.
That car was calling my name…We found the “one” Candy Apple Red…perfect…and the Dealership in Moorhead was running a sale.  BUT we need to think about it a day or two…we returned to the dealership with a check in hand and they said the sale price no longer applied.  CRAP…I was so disappointed.  We visited a dealership in Fargo…they had nothing we wanted…wrong color… I said to the salesman “The car I want is sitting over in Moorhead.”  He said “If you want that car I will give you a deal on it.”  SOLD!!

Jennifer in front, Me, Trica, Far Guy

Trica was 12 years old and Jennifer was almost 9.

It was a fine vehicle we even had room for the dog!  We made a number of long trips (Texas and  Florida)…as the girls grew taller the back seat became a real pain in the neck for them and for us because that invisible line in the back seat was just not working anymore.  One day Far Guy said “Honey I think you are more of a Dodge VAN person now…so we traded my beautiful red Dodge Charger off for a blue 1986 Dodge Caravan …the girls had lots of room.  I sold it ( to my other baby brother) after I got stranded at Uncle Otto and Aunt Maries after a snowstorm, the last mile of the road home was not plowed…I needed four wheel drive.

Far Guy’s Dad knew all the car salesmen…when I needed the Four Wheel Drive…he took me to every dealership in the area “shopping.”  I am pretty sure he had a really good time looking at vehicles.  In Perham at the Ford Dealership we found my next dream vehicle (used).  I drove a 1984 Ford Bronco II until 2004 and I bawled when it left the driveway…it had been paid for a number of years.

That is Far Guy’s parents custom built Motor Home in the background.

Now I have a Sunday Car we only take it out on Sundays or for longer trips.  It gets great gas mileage a week ago we got 39.2 mpg.  Chance has the whole back seat to himself.  I woulda bought another Dodge Charger but they are considerably more than the $5,900 we paid for the one in 1981.  In fact the one I looked at was more than we spent on that house back in 1979.

Chance in the Sunday Car…it is black..shows every water spot and speck of dust.  Not sure if the leather heated seats trump Candy Apple Red or not..but it has the zero to 60 down just fine.

Summer Jobs

If you drive through our nearby town you see Help Wanted signs all over.  Main Street businesses have signs in their windows, Burger King, Wallyworld and the motels are all looking for help.  My cousin owns one of the local golf courses she didn’t get any applications for the four positions she was hoping to fill.

During the summer time when I was growing up my first job was peeling cedar fence posts with a draw knife.  I think my Dad paid 5 cents a post.  My brother and I also picked up pop bottles out of the ditch…they were worth a penny or two at the grocery store.

Later years I was part of a Christmas Tree Trimming Crew.  I went up and down the rows with a clipper shaping the trees into their Christmas Tree form…and lopping off the central leader.   It was a buggy hot job…at the end of a row…some rows were a half mile long you got a drink of water.  On really hot days they handed out salt tablets.  We sat in the shade of the truck to eat our lunch.  We usually worked from 8 to 2 or 7 to 1 if it was going to be a really warm day.  There was a crew boss who had a machete and he would come along and whack what you missed…if the trees were quite tall he would do the central leader for you. I can still hear that machete whirring through the air…oh and the blisters you would get on your hands!  Eventually the blisters would turn to callouses but until then they were painful.  Gloves were not much help…other than to get brown fuzz in your blisters after they popped.

I did some babysitting, my younger brothers and sister prepared me well for those occasional jobs.

For a few weeks I was the cook and waitress at a local restaurant…talk about scary I was not much of a cook…and my waitress skills were lacking. It was a nightmare job.  I cannot quite remember what happened…I think they found a better cook. 

The summer before I was a Senior in High School I went to work for Far Guys Parents…more about that exciting time in my life later.

Noah likes his summer job.  He says he likes to wear scrubs because they are comfortable.

By the way his mother tells me that he is 6’1” and still growing.

 

Wistful Wednesday: Graduation

Back in 1969 I graduated from High School.  I was anxious to be done with school.

There were no try outs for the choir.  I am tone deaf yet they let me sing with the choir on Graduation Day.  I am just about in the center of the photo.  Just down and to the right of the very tall to be crooked lawyer in the back row.  I can name everyone in the front row…but I won’t.

From the left Jim (he is married to my cousin), Cathie (My best high school friend), Clyde, me, Hilda ( my cousin) and Pam…her last name started with Z.  Needless to say we were the last to get our diplomas.

Those blue/grey caps and gowns were worn by everyone.  You had to go down to the Civil Defense Shelter in the underground tunnel and find one that fit…they wanted them to be  close to the same length on everyone.  Then you had to take them home and press them. 

As I remember the speakers were long winded…didn’t they realize that their advice was going in one ear and out the other?


The Class Flower was a turquoise carnation and the class motto was “The path you make is the road you take.” ( How stupid is that?) The class colors were turquoise and silver.

That would be me in front of the picture tree at the farm.  I am certain Far Guy will notice his 1959 Desoto Station Wagon in the background.

My Mom took these photos and didn’t get them developed until 1970.

Nocturnal enuresis

Wetting the bed…well that is a real treat.

I wet the bed as a child.  In fact I didn’t outgrow it until puberty at age nine.  5 % of the population of bedwetters take that long to come around.  Either their bladders become larger or a hormone kicks in that reduces the amount of urine produced at night.  I suspect that was my problem …a hormone.  Yesiree I traded in bedwetting for a bra!

Being a bedwetter meant you were thirsty after supper….and you stayed thirsty until morning and you still wet the bed.  I didn’t want to wet the bed…it eventually was cold in that bed and smelly too.  I couldn’t stay overnight for Pajama Parties like the rest of the girls.  I was different I couldn’t control my bladder at night.

I recall one night vividly.  Darlene and Diane were babysitting for me and I was to stay overnight.   WELL I probably had popcorn and Kool-Aid…and the next morning the entire bed was wet…including the curlers on Diane’s head…she had a cow.  Their Mother Hazel was kind…she said I couldn’t help it.  I didn’t stay overnight with anyone again for a really long time.

I suppose when I get to the home I will have to wear Depends.  They say you revert back to your childhood in old age.  So there I will be picking my nose and wetting the bed.

While I was on the antibiotics for my bronchitis the potty dreams returned.  Some nights I was so exhausted looking for a potty in my dreams that I never got a good nights sleep.  It was a relief to finally get out of the dream state to get up and go to the bathroom. It was most likely a miracle that I did not wet the bed. 

Those all elusive potties …doors are locked, there is a line, they are not in working order, they are too filthy to use, no one not even my children will tell me where the potty is…the night before last I showed them all… I peed in the bathtub…what a relief….I went and went and went…it seemed like at least five minutes and it felt so damn good.  I awakened.. whew…only a dream…I checked and everything was dry…thank goodness.

Neither of my children were bedwetters and Far Guy reports that he never wet the bed either.

Wistful Wednesday: Roots Part Seven

I have just a few more things to share because they were shared so graciously by Verniel.
Concerning my Great Grandmother Margaretta :

My Great Uncle Mike, Great Aunt Tilda Granroos (Margaretta’s Half sister), My Great Uncle Joe ( Mike and Joe were my Grandfathers brothers.)
My Great Grandfather Isak built a cupboard for Margaretta.

I will assume that this cupboard is still in existence and some part of the family has it…most likely Great Uncle Bill’s family.
There are not very many photos of Margaretta. I think she was pregnant in this photo most likely with her last child Uncle Bill.


My Dad said the other day that I look just like her.  He remembers her fondly, she used to give him coins when he visited.  Sometime just a penny or two but sometimes a nickel or a dime.  That was a lot of money to a youngster.
Margaretta or Greta died in 1944.  My Dad was 18 years old.

The newspaper obituary has Yliniemi spelled wrong…something that has plagued the name all of my life.

Warning: Casket Photo

Three of my Dad’s brothers were pallbearers…Oscar and  Ervin on the left and Wilbert on the right.
We know from the death certificate that she died of Liver Cancer and from the obituary that she was ill for two months before her death.  She was 76 years old.

Hay and Oats

When I grew up on the farm, I hated haying time, it was hot dusty job, sweat rolls down your shirt and hay dust gets stuck everywhere and begins to itch.  You have to wear long sleeves and pants or you would end up with prickles all up and down your legs and arms. (Prickles = highly technical word that means the red marks left on your body from hay stubble.) You need good gloves …to avoid blisters from the twine.   Our baler baled and unloaded the small square bales that weighed about 50 to 60 pounds (sometimes more) onto the ground.  The bales had to be picked up off the ground and loaded onto the wagon.  This was a great improvement from the loose hay and hay stacks.  Later my parents bought a baler with a kicker…the bales were deposited onto the wagon…thereby eliminating one of the hot dusty jobs.   Sometime the baler would kick them out pretty fast..so several people were needed to stack on the wagon.  Staying upright on a wagon moving through a hay field is a real talent.

I believe these large round bales are plastic netted..a netting surrounds the bale and holds it together.  I think these bales weigh about 1,000 pounds and must be moved with a tractor. Todd puts most of his hay in a hay shed so it is undercover.  Some people use these large bales as a wind break for their cattle.  I have been told that these bales with their round shape shed water better than square bales.  Some people have the kind of baler that encloses the bale in a white plastic covering.

Last evening my cousin Todd was combining Oats.  It is the first oats to be ready in our area.

The fluffy rows are done…they have been combined.  The flatter rows near the center of the field have not been done yet.

Looks like a John Deere Tractor and Combine to me.  The tractor has a cab…it is reminiscent of one of the last tractors my parents had.  The oats is being combined on Far Guy’s Maternal Grandparents old farm.  Last year this small corner field was corn.

My Cousin Todd and our neighbors Steve and Donnie along with Paul are the only small farmers left in this area.  How they eek out a living is beyond me…so their equipment may be a bit old…but I know they help each other out and borrow equipment back and forth. My cousin Todd is the youngest of the group, he must be just about 50 years old…and farmer Steve turned 70 years old this week…I think Donnie is in his 60’s.  Older farmers.

Wistful Wednesday :1964

I remember the day this photo was taken, I was inside doing dishes when Mom wanted a photograph of us with her flowers.  Check out those dirty feet.  I hated shoes..still do.  This photo was taken in 1964 towards fall..that in between time when you might wear a sweatshirt with shorts.

I was 13 or really close to 13, my baby brother was 10 that year and my other baby brother was going to be 4.  My baby brother has on his jeans uniform…jacket with white T –shirt and pants and high top sneakers. My other baby brother had some issue going on with a belt and his pants and or pants leg.  His pants look all cattywhampus…oh well he was just a little guy. Looks like he is wearing cowboy boots.

Our dog should have been around someplace, he was a Spitz named “Wally”…he followed a Spitz named “Chipper” who was run over on the road one night when us kids were out playing in the cow pasture.  Wally would live a good long time until he chased the wrong vehicle and was injured and lay under the lilac bushes for days before he finally died..in 1973 - 1974 if I recollect correctly, I think he died on my birthday or very near it.

I think those yellow flowers were Dahlias but I am not certain.  We are standing on the old basement entrance that was made into a trap door.

When I was little there were outside stairs there and the outside entrance was covered in tarpaper.  The steps were dark and scary and I think there were snakes on those stairs.  There were stairs inside down to the basement also, the basement stairs were right outside my parents bedroom.  When the house was remodeled, those stairs disappeared, a new basement was constructed right next to the old one and a hole was cut in the inside wall connecting the new basement to the old.  New indoor basement steps were built near the outside door so if you had your chore/barn clothes on you could go right on downstairs to change.  At that time the trap door was installed and the outside steps disappeared.

Now my brain is tired from all that thinking:)

Wistful Wednesday : 1952

The weather is warm. Makes me think of making hay on or around the 4th of July.  I can almost feel the twine on the bales digging into my hands..making blisters. I know I can feel the scratchy hay chaff settling down everywhere I was sweating..especially right down my shirt.  My legs would be covered with the telltale signs of hay making..scraped and red in places where the stiffer stalks would try to puncture your skin.  Of course a simple solution would have been to wear pants while making hay..but it was summer and I was a kid.  I could pick a bale up off the ground and get it onto the hay wagon to be stacked.  Some of those bales were pretty heavy.  I won’t mention the mess a bale makes if the twine breaks.

Hay making has come a long ways since then…at least we had a tractor and a baler.

This is a photo that my Mom took in 1952. 

 

Me and my Uncle Kenny and my Aunt Karen.

It looks like Kenny has irritated Karen and I am heading for my own adventure.  We are sitting in the lawn out in front of Grandma and Grandpa D’s house in the grass which has clover..which made me think of making hay and the 4th of July.  Some days my mind is round about like that:)

Wistful Wednesday: 1953

Yesterday I wrote about the Jack and Ella McGrane place where I used to visit.

My very first party was held at that old two story brown stucco house with the east facing porch.  It was Corrine’s birthday..she was three.  Her Grandmother had a wonderful party for her and invited neighborhood kids.

Barry, Corrine and Danny

Me, Sharon and a little girl I do not remember (Caroline I think)

This huge step was on the south side of the house and this part faced west.  A perfect spot for a photo.  It must have been a real pain in the neck to get that many small children to sit still for a photograph.

Barry and Sharon are Far Guys cousins.  Barry is the guy I call Alaska Guy. We see him several times a year.  Sharon comes home every few years, she lives on the east coast.

I posted this photograph on Corrine’s Facebook page the day of her birthday.  Danny just lives down the road.  Since I don’t remember the other little girl I have no idea what happened to her nor do I recall where she used to live.

Apparently I didn’t like that baby doll very much:)

Bath time

Chance and I were entertained by an American Redstart.  Look at him! He is poised almost like a high diver!

He checked out the birdbath…it must be Saturday night?  When I was little we bathed on Saturday night so we would be good and clean for church on Sunday morning. Yesiree we bathed once a week whether we needed it or not.

Water was splashing all over.  I was laughing and Chance was looking at me like I was nuts, he of course spends much time surveying his domain..so he is used to the bathing birds activity.  I think he is a little jealous..his pool is still in the grain bin.

The little Redstart had a blast!  I watched to see if I could spot a female American Redstart..I think I saw one but didn’t get her photograph.  Perhaps she is shy.

How did we survive with just one bath a week ?  In the summer we went swimming or played water games in the yard squirting each other with the hose.  I was in third grade before we got a real bath tub and toilet (Yay!!!!) in the house.  After that we took more baths.  Nowadays we would never think of missing a daily shower/bath:)

Wistful Wednesday :1952

Another wonderful photo of me when I was little.  This one was taken 61 years ago.

Connie June 1952

My Mother must have taken this photo.  It was taken at my maternal grandparents farm.  That is the grainery behind my head and off to the left is the chicken coop..I can see chickens out there..and a woodpile. The outhouse with the two seater was off to the left.

There was a circular driveway, it circled past the house, by the pump house, past the grainery and then by the garage and down the lane. Cars would be lined up there every Sunday afternoon.

You could walk to Grandpas huge garden which was way past the chicken coop.  You had to watch where you stepped with or without shoes going past the coop. When I was really little they had a garden up near the house.  Grandpa must of thought the soil was better elsewhere.

Grandpa always liked it when I walked down to the garden, the rows were perfectly straight and the aisles between the rows weedless..and it was a huge garden.  He must have spent hours everyday in the garden.

We used to have vegetable gardens.  This year Far Guy has two tomato plants in buckets in the little red wagon.  It is easier to cart them around should the weather turn nasty.  He also has two tomatoes planted out back in his “garden.”  “Garden” consists of a few raspberry plants and two tomatoes.

I never could grow rhubarb.  I was at a garage sale last week and they were giving it away so I chopped it up and froze some for next winter.

Sometimes you don’t have to have a garden to get produce..you just have to be at the right place at the right time:)

Wistful Wednesday : 1952

In May of 1952  I was six months old.  Able to sit up by myself and everything.

Ah.. I probably sat up momentarily for this photo and then fell over.  My Mother wrote on this photo.  Connie Joy May 1952.

It was about this time that we moved to the farm where I would grow up.  I don’t remember living anywhere else..however I know that my Mother and I lived with my Maternal Grandparents while my Dad was in Korea, I just don’t remember that part.

I have some memories before I entered school.  Banty roosters being mean and chasing me.  Dogs..and kittens.  Coffee poured into a saucer to cool so I could drink it.  Butter.  A baby calf sucking on my fingers.  A fawn with spots in a fence. 

Sometimes smells ..fresh baked bread, rain and a wet dog stir up memories that I cannot quite remember.   Some things remain just on the outskirts of my memory.  Fleeting feelings just  for a moment..something I should remember but cannot.

I suppose as I get older more memories will be forgotten.  More experiences will be unrememberable..is that a word?  Well if it isn’t it should be.

Now a days I remember some “stuff” in the middle of the night when I wake up.  What a terrible time to remember “crap”…then I wonder will I remember in the morning?  Unless I get up and write a note to myself…my sleep/waking cycles are filled with reminding myself to remember in the morning…and that is exhausting.  I am certain that after being asleep a few hours my brain finally clears out and remembers the important stuff I forgot during the day…and then because my brain is all rested up… it has to keep reminding me so I won’t forget again.  It is a vicious cycle:) 

What’s new?

New babies in the neighborhood.

Brand new baby and new baby.  I wasn’t expecting them yet..someone said they wouldn’t be here until summer.  I am not thinking summer yet..spring is barely here.

They sure are cute!

Their pasture is greening up nicely in all the rain we have had recently.  The new calves are probably called Ribeye and Sirloin.  Yes, I like a good steak!  Steak and salad  one of my favorite meals.

It was spitting rain last night when I took these photos.  It is supposed to rain and be cloudy this Decoration Day weekend.

We took flowers to several cemeteries.  They were mowed..and look real nice.  Of course one looked better than the other..we didn’t linger long…maybe when we pick up the flowers on Monday night or Tuesday.  We take bunches of silk flowers and stick them in the ground…then collect them and put them back in the cemetery flower box in my garage until next year.  We used to take real plants when we had the greenhouse.  Far Guy would cart water every other day.

I have a ganglion cyst ( Bible Bump) on the top of my right foot. It is painful and making my toes go numb. I have had it surgically removed once..that was a nightmare ( I went into respiratory failure from a reaction to the anesthetic) plus I ended up with a drain tube and a cast.  ( I was in such pain that I bribed the girls with 20 dollar bills for an extra pain pill..they were party poopers and called their Father at work).  The last time it flared up my other baby brother took care of it for me.  He has large hands and is very strong..it hurt like the devil ( I think I may have screamed and said bad word, bad word) but that was ten years ago. His treatment was way better than surgery.  He is in North Dakota..lotta good that does me in my ten minutes of need.  One of his Grandsons suggested that I just drive out and see him. 

I am allergic to the newest blood pressure medication..I woke up the night before last at 4 AM covered in hives and couldn’t go back to sleep and when I finally did it was time to get up.  The bitchandmoan session is now over:) 

Wistful Wednesday: Ironing

I don’t iron much anymore.  A few table runners and my kitchen valences. I do know how to iron.  I double starched many a uniform for Far Guy and when the girls were little they had cotton dresses.

Yesterday I cleaned the laundry/furnace room.  I dusted off the iron..and vacuumed off the ironing board.  That is one old iron I think I have had it about 20 years, it used to steam, not so much anymore.  The ironing board is older, we got it for a wedding gift over 43 years ago.  I hardly ever take it out..if I iron something I usually put a towel on the cupboard and iron away.

I learned to iron when I was 7 years old in 1958.

My mom wrote on this photograph “My Helper.”

I was ironing in the old farm house kitchen.  There are clothes folded neatly on the table that is covered with an oilcloth and more laundry must be in that basket in the chair.

I know we washed one day, and almost everything was hung out on the line outside to dry.  In the winter the clothes freeze dried stiff as a board.  My Mom had a wringer washer in the basement.  She would painstakingly get everything ready to hang..she would fold the sheets in half and then put the four points for the clothes pins all together so they were easy to hang, one after another the sheets would go into the basket ready to hang up outside.  No matter what breeze was going through the yard, clothes were wrinkled after going through that wringer.  Dads pants would go on the pants stretchers..just so..so the creases were right.  Mom’s hands were constantly red and chapped in the wintertime.  Sometimes the unmentionables and socks would be hung on the old wooden drying rack.

I liked to sprinkle clothes and then roll them up and put them in the plastic bag to be ironed the next day.  I liked the smell of the clothes fresh off the line.  When you ironed that outdoor fresh smell filled the air and delighted the olfactory senses of the person wielding the iron.  Can you smell it? :)