Mari Collier's Blog - Posts Tagged "curiosity"
Curiosity
Every fall and spring Mama would go into a frenzy of cleaning and decorating. In the fall the coal stoves for the dining room and living room would be moved back in and set up. That usually meant furniture had to be rearranged and “freshened.” That could be anything from painting to new doilies. Winter blankets and feather ticks would have to be “aired” after being stored all spring and summer. If necessary, Mama would make new pillows by using the feathers from the ducks we had. The sweeping, mopping, waxing, and dusting didn't count. That was done each week. Spring, however, would stir Mama’s sense of creativity.
Once the coal stoves were removed, the stovepipes down, the metal topped pads from beneath the stoves gone, and the metal picture set over the holes for the stove pipe, her efforts turned to cleaning the wallpaper. We used this dough like lump from a can to rub down the paper and remove the coal smoke. As the pad darkened, you’d fold it over and use a clean side. When the dough was grey-black, a fresh pad was used. Years later, I would buy my children Play Dough. It was in pretty colors, but it smelled the same and it felt the same.
"Cleaning” the wallpaper would work for a year or two, but then the wallpaper had to be stripped and new wallpaper put up. She managed to do the living room one year, the dining room and kitchen the next, and their bedroom on the third rotation. Since the upstairs bedrooms where my brother and I slept, didn’t get any heat, it wasn't necessary to redo them.
All this took place with the normal farm work of planting, harvesting, canning, and making larger meals than anyone thinks of doing today. Papa, of course, could out eat many people. I can’t imagine the hours Mama put in day after day making breakfast, dinner, and supper (yes, that is what the mealtimes were called). Nothing in the way of food was ever wasted. If there were left-over pie crusts, she’d sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon and make pie cookies. If there was left-over frosting, she would spread it on saltine crackers or graham crackers. There were never many of either and they would just be on a small plate on the table. If Papa happened to come into the house, it would disappear into his mouth.
If any of us were ill, she was the nurse. My youngest brother came down with something when I was about five and she had made up a soda paste for some reason and had taken what she needed into the bedroom where my brother was. I was in the dining room probably dusting, reading, or coloring. I heard my father come in and suddenly there was this choking, sputtering, and hacking coming from the kitchen. Mama appeared in the bedroom doorway and I ran into the kitchen. Papa had scooped up the soda paste thinking it was frosting.
“I thought it was frosting,” Papa finally said. That experience, however, did not stop Papa from tasting whatever was out on the table.
The next spring, Mama decided the dining room needed something new. As usual money was in short supply, but there was enough to buy some packets of dye. Inside the packets were cubes of dye. One used hot water and the number of cubes necessary to create the needed color shade. She decided that the side panels of the white lace curtains in the dining room should be brown. I’m not sure what that would have matched in her mind as it might have been a color in the wallpaper.
The curtains came out a beautiful, deep brown. Mama was in a rush that day and in between her other duties, ironed and re-hung the dining room curtains. The extra cube of brown dye remained on the kitchen table. Yes, as Papa came in bringing a basket of cobs for the wood cooking stove, he saw the cube and popped it into his mouth. Once again we heard the coughing, choking, sputtering noise from the kitchen.
After he had rinsed out his mouth he looked at Mama and said, “It looked like a piece of caramel.”
No, Papa never quit tasting whatever was on the table that might look like food. Mama was just very careful of what she left on the table.
Once the coal stoves were removed, the stovepipes down, the metal topped pads from beneath the stoves gone, and the metal picture set over the holes for the stove pipe, her efforts turned to cleaning the wallpaper. We used this dough like lump from a can to rub down the paper and remove the coal smoke. As the pad darkened, you’d fold it over and use a clean side. When the dough was grey-black, a fresh pad was used. Years later, I would buy my children Play Dough. It was in pretty colors, but it smelled the same and it felt the same.
"Cleaning” the wallpaper would work for a year or two, but then the wallpaper had to be stripped and new wallpaper put up. She managed to do the living room one year, the dining room and kitchen the next, and their bedroom on the third rotation. Since the upstairs bedrooms where my brother and I slept, didn’t get any heat, it wasn't necessary to redo them.
All this took place with the normal farm work of planting, harvesting, canning, and making larger meals than anyone thinks of doing today. Papa, of course, could out eat many people. I can’t imagine the hours Mama put in day after day making breakfast, dinner, and supper (yes, that is what the mealtimes were called). Nothing in the way of food was ever wasted. If there were left-over pie crusts, she’d sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon and make pie cookies. If there was left-over frosting, she would spread it on saltine crackers or graham crackers. There were never many of either and they would just be on a small plate on the table. If Papa happened to come into the house, it would disappear into his mouth.
If any of us were ill, she was the nurse. My youngest brother came down with something when I was about five and she had made up a soda paste for some reason and had taken what she needed into the bedroom where my brother was. I was in the dining room probably dusting, reading, or coloring. I heard my father come in and suddenly there was this choking, sputtering, and hacking coming from the kitchen. Mama appeared in the bedroom doorway and I ran into the kitchen. Papa had scooped up the soda paste thinking it was frosting.
“I thought it was frosting,” Papa finally said. That experience, however, did not stop Papa from tasting whatever was out on the table.
The next spring, Mama decided the dining room needed something new. As usual money was in short supply, but there was enough to buy some packets of dye. Inside the packets were cubes of dye. One used hot water and the number of cubes necessary to create the needed color shade. She decided that the side panels of the white lace curtains in the dining room should be brown. I’m not sure what that would have matched in her mind as it might have been a color in the wallpaper.
The curtains came out a beautiful, deep brown. Mama was in a rush that day and in between her other duties, ironed and re-hung the dining room curtains. The extra cube of brown dye remained on the kitchen table. Yes, as Papa came in bringing a basket of cobs for the wood cooking stove, he saw the cube and popped it into his mouth. Once again we heard the coughing, choking, sputtering noise from the kitchen.
After he had rinsed out his mouth he looked at Mama and said, “It looked like a piece of caramel.”
No, Papa never quit tasting whatever was on the table that might look like food. Mama was just very careful of what she left on the table.
