Excerpts from the childhood of my mother-in-law, Donna Garver
Mosey, in her own words:
“At school we had a recess at 10:30 and 2:30, and a one-hour
lunch break at noon. Reading was my
favorite subject. I remember what an
awful time I had with long division, though!
I could do short division, but not long… We played anti-over, where we threw a ball
over the school house, and “ducky on the rock.”
I loved to read; I devoured any books that came into the
house—books, magazines, my sister Doris’ True
Stories and Modern Romance, Reader’s Digest if I could get them, the
newspaper if the store man saved it for us, anything I could get my hands on… There
wasn’t any library that I remember. I could spell in those days—not so good
now—because we had “spell-downs” on Fridays third quarter after recess, quite
often.
I was terrified of speaking in front of people. Old Mr. Robinette, even though he burned down
the barn at The Grove, was still our friend—he was a shirt-tail relative on my
mother’s side. One time they were at our
place, and I had a Christmas program coming up, and I had a part, and I was
afraid. He said, “If you get up there
and only look at me, you won’t
cry. And if you say your part, and you
don’t cry, I will give you a dime.” And
I did it!
We bought flour in 25-pound bags, or took our own wheat to
the mill to be ground. Mom would make 10
or 12 loaves of bread at a time, in round pans—she could only fit four at a
time in the oven. The recipe was simple:
yeast, water, sugar, flour. Our stove
was wood-burning cook stove with a wood box nearby. Mom was a good cook and a good baker. She would make pies on Sunday while we were
at Sunday School. We had a few chickens,
and she would make egg noodles. When we
had noodles, they were homemade with about a dozen whole eggs and flour and
salt. They were really a treat with
chicken and broth!
We didn’t get too many invitations to eat at other people’s
houses—there were too many of us to feed!
But my childhood was a happy time, as I recall it. We didn’t know how others lived, and it
didn’t matter.
I remember laundry days.
Mom had a washboard, two tubs, and a boiler for whites—no washer or
dryer. She had to pump the water
(kitchen pump), haul it to the stove, heat the water, fill the tubs, and scrub
the clothes by hand. She would start the
laundry on Monday morning and not finish until Wednesday morning. I remember her hands were raw and her fingers
were bloody by the time it was finished…
I don’t know why, but we used to beg her to let us help her scrub the
socks! We would hang clothes outdoors to
dry (even in winter)—they were freeze dried, but they smelled heavenly… Ironing was a family thing. The experienced ironers would do shirts and
dresses, and the beginners would do hankies and pillowcases.”
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