Homestead Memories...
So many times someone has said to my husband and me, "You've lived such an interesting life! You should write a book!" That's easier said than done. My husband should be the writer. When you combine his incredible memory with a bottle of Jameson's he can spin a mighty fine yarn! But he rarely even writes an e-mail, so the writing's up to me. I may share some earlier memories someday, but for now I think I'll stick to memories made on our farm, the ones that happen to pop into my head...
Water In, Water Out
We were visiting with friends the other night, got to talking about "back in the day" and I asked the other two women if they had ever lived with kerosene lighting. As it turned out they both had, not that uncommon with us "northern settlers", so we got to talking about its limitations. "Worst for me," I said, "was when I took up beading. I had a full jar of mixed colour tiny beads, the kind you use for beading moccasins, and I couldn't tell what colour they were. So I'd bead away and next day in the sun I'd see what colours I'd actually chosen!" It never turned out too bad though, colours were close, and I never finished moccasin number two anyhow.
We lived with non-electric lighting for 12 years, 1972-1984. Over time we tried a variety of lighting options - regular kerosene lamps; propane lights attached with copper tubing to the walls; Coleman lanterns (you have to pump them up); Aladdin lamps, quite bright, run on kerosene but with very delicate mantles and hard to find expensive chimneys; flashlights (pre LED). I remember being the lamp holder while my husband built our bed. It had tons of storage space below it, cupboards and shelving. But building by lamp light was worse than wearing dark sunglasses on a rainy day indoors - a lot of guesswork and banged-up fingers.
That evening's conversation moved along to living without running water, another shared experience. "So," I said, "if you had to choose, which would you prefer - water in or water out?" We unanimously agreed - WATER OUT! Melting snow or hauling clean water from a lake (with an augured hole in winter), a stream or a well is hard work. Your arms get strong and your back complains. But water out can be an unpleasant chore. No bathrooms, no toilets, no drains! "Oh god," one friend exclaimed, " I remember taking the potty out to dump one day and I tripped!" An audible collective groan came from the three of us. We had an extremely clear visual in our heads when she said that. Ugh! But we are women, and unlike men, we hang it all out when nature calls. In the winter the outhouse, especially in the middle of the night or when you are sick (or pregnant), is not very inviting. And then there's the little ones. So the porta potty was a household necessity, one whose maintenance always fell to the women. The men were completely incapable of understanding the need for such things.
I remembered tripping too, with a full slop pail. This is the one under the sink that catches all the dirty dish water, gets way too full, is greasy, slimy and... you get the picture. I just sat down and cried, cursed myself for not getting around to emptying it sooner.
Then there were cloth diapers, sloshed in water hauled from the lake and kept in a pail of mild bleach water until I could wring them out and get to the laundromat or wash them by hand. (I think the laundromat in town has changed hands and renovated often enough to tell this story.) Never, never, never will I forget the day I was loading diapers into a washing machine when I noticed a few white specks on the floor. Taking a closer look I nearly died on the spot. Maggots! I did a sort of weird little dance, twisting my feet surreptitiously while crushing the creepy wigglers into the carpet, hoping no one would notice what I was up to! I don't think it's possible to get much more embarrassed.
In summer we bathed in the lake, starting early in the season, maybe earlier than was sensible. But at least we waited for the ice to be totally gone. If you ever want to test your heart, while standing in a cold lake in the spring wash your hair and then let your whole self submerge to rinse it off. It makes you pant! Winter bathing was a wash tub in the kitchen. Indoor bathing was a bit less frequent than those summertime swims - it was that water in, water out thing...
Canning with no running water is quite a chore too, all the vegetable washing, clean water needed. I did mine on the wood stove in the house. I swear it must have been at least 45 degrees Celsius above that stove top. But it was necessary (no freezer, no refrigeration) and it all got done. That was a fine wood stove. It had a water reservoir on the side that held 5 gallons, keeping it nice and hot for whenever it was needed.
Over time we developed a variety of water-in systems, working our way toward modernity. We had almost no money in those days, so we did what we could when we could. But the day we got a rudimentary septic system (we built our 2 chamber tank with tar coated 3X12's) was definitely a day for celebration!
