reminders

 Every once in a while you see something or read something that brings memories flooding back. Sometimes the same thing does that several times. Yesterday I saw a posting about a sprinkler bottle. Now a sprinkler bottle is something that would gave been in most homes in the 1960's, before electric steam irons were a common thing. They were available beginning in the early 1940's but expensive. I remember my Mom having one. Hers was a old coke bottle with an aluminum sprinkler head. I called it her sprinkle bottle. Whenever I see a picture of one I can hear the sound it made, a sort of gurgling, followed by the smell. It is a distinct smell that steam on fresh laundered clothes. All that was accompanied by the creaking of the ironing board as Mom pressed that iron down. That old ironing board with it's wooden legs, padded top and well worn cover. At some point it was replaced by a new one, steel legs and a perforated top. It still needed to have a padded cover on it. And yes, it made a sound of its' own. And it is those sounds and smells that come back to me almost immediately whenever that topic is brought to mind. Its' a comforting thing, the way some memories are, a piece of the past alive and well. 

 Washing and ironing clothing was a common enough practice in my house. Yes I'm aware people still wash their clothes at home but I'm thinking not many iron them. I recall when permanent press was a new thing. My Mom just laughed about that and insisted on ironing them anyway. Well my Mom ironed everything, sheets, pillow cases, tee shirts , underwear and handkerchiefs. Yes, if it was cloth, it got ironed. We hung the clothes out to dry when I was younger. The clothesline was out back, in fact, several of them strung tree to tree. Our home was on the edge of Northwest woods and so plenty of trees in the yard. Used old broken branches for a clothes pole. The clothes pins hung in a cloth basket that you could slide along the line. Mom preferred the ones you just jam on there, the ones with the springs didn't hold well with heavier things. An oval shaped wicker basket was used to take the clothes out and in with, another thing I remember in vivid detail. I know the feel, the smell, how it would flex with the weight of wet clothes and to watch out for that broken end of wicker, it would scratch you. You had better not get blood on that clean laundry!

 It's a funny thing really. The sights and sounds of your youth reside in your memory. I wonder about the selection process however. Why do we remember certain things like that? I remember the sound of the whip o wills, mostly I suspect because they scared me when I was little. The sound of a match being struck and the perking of the coffee pot. A screen door closing or a window weight clanking. Footsteps on the stairs, the third one creaked. An old tube style radio with its' single speaker has a sound different from all others. I know the sound of a wooden boat as it creaks and groans in the sea. The smell of the ocean. Great Grandfathers house, dry and dusty, it smelled of cigar smoke and old, old is the only word that comes to mind. Lingering smells from years of living. Well guess I'm just feeling a little sentimental this morning. That picture of a sprinkle bottle sending me on a voyage. Mom sprinkled me a few times when I would get "underfoot" while she was trying to get the ironing done. Threatened to iron me too.  Mom in her house dress and apron, when I was little. Then she began wearing slacks, the apron went away, she had an electric steam iron, and things changed. She even got an electric clothes dryer. Mom is 91 now, she doesn't iron anymore having decided that permanent press is good enough and there really is no need to iron sheets. Handkerchiefs have been replaced by Kleenex tissue and when you do see a handkerchief it is probably sewn into the pocket. Well, I still have my memories. I do have a sprinkle bottle. It's an old Pepsi bottle, 8oz size, with a plastic sprinkle head. Got mine on e-bay, isn't that something?