page 284-285

Pages 284-285

                I watched until the last of them were up on the bench, and disappearing from view.  I turned to look, Beauty was hitched and tied to the rack and it was such a temptation to jump in and follow, when a thought came to me – you are not as free as you once were, you are married and very much co –and so giving a last glance toward the buggy, walked slowly toward the house.  One glance at the tubs beside the door gave me to know there were things other than housecleaning.  I put wood in the stove, filled the reservoir and also the wash boiler which I had place on the stove, from bucket after bucket I drew from the cistern beside the door,  Jim would carry it from the creek for me, and even draw it from the cistern if told ahead of time.  But , it was done and I was tired for once with the day scarcely begun.  I changed the bed linens, this done, I sat down with the pile of dirty clothes before me, then lying down as I supposed for just a minute, was soon fast asleep, waking an hour later with the fire completely out, but the water hot, and was much refreshed from my nap, placing the tubs on two chairs, with a rinse tub on a backless one, prepared to get the water ready and drawing more cold from the cistern, when Jim came back on horseback for some repairs, jumping off the horse, came over to where I was and wanting to know just why I was doing all of this.

                “Doing the washing is enough,” he said, turning, asked, “where is the boiler.”

I’ve already drawn and heated that, it’s in the tub, I was getting cold water to cool it down.”

                “Just why all the effort, are you trying to overdo?  I would have done all of this,“ he said.

                “I know you would,” I replied, breaking the water by sprinkling a little lye in it, and shoved the white clothes in, then put a bar of soap on top of the washboard, I began by rubbing the soaped clothes on the rough washboard.

                “I’d better stay here until this is done, just to make sure you won’t overdo.”

                “I’ll be alright, “ I answered, “now back to your horses and plowing, they could be all tangled up by now,” motioning him away.

                Calling back he said, “Now promise me,”

                “Ok,” I answered, but when he was out of sight, I worked a bit faster, knowing the breakfast dishes were still waiting, as well as the housework and Jim would be back for dinner.  The rest I had taken earlier had given me added energy, so leaving the white clothes soaking in the rinse water, I went out to wash the lines, looking up as I did so, stepped in a low-like hole unnoticed, throwing me forward.  Breaking my fall with my hand, I got to a sitting position and there I sat for some time until a neighbor came riding down the section line.  Getting to my feet, for fear he would stop to see if I was alright, I then went to the house, rinsed the white clothes, wringing each piece by hand, for few women in those days had washing machines or wringers, then hanging them out while the colored ones soaked, this being the pleasant part of it.  For I love to see a line of white clothes flapping in the breeze.  There were only a few colored ones so this was soon accomplished and they, too, were drying in the April sun.  Jim had said to leave the water set.  Although I disliked the sight of it I did as I was told, then went about doing the dishes and tidying up the house.  Hurriedly I prepared the dinner just in time, as Jim came up the hill with the six head of horses.

                They hadn’t more than come to a stop by the rack when Jackie let out his bray, voicing his dislike of harness and work, but he was born like most of his kind, for just that, and his dislikes counted little.  Jim tried not to overwork any of them and always curried the dusty sweat from their hair, giving a kindly pat on the hip, saying, “You did well today, now move on.”  Giving themselves a shake they would move over to the rack of feed, eating for awhile, then all would take off on a gallop hunting for tasty green grass along the foot hills or to get an extra cool drink from Shirley Creek.

                The days were sometimes long and tiresome in the collar and also for the man that rode the plow, for the air was always filled with the smell of the sage.  I never knew what it was for Jim to have the smell out of his clothes, except when he had on his good clothes, or freshly washed ones, for when he’d let the horses stop “to blow” they called it, he would tie up the lines on the lever of the plow, and then pull and pile brush that was left at the time of railing and racking, this being a headache for the heading crew, then too, the threshing men would make the air blue with their words, when some of it would accidentally get into the separator, so it was of little use  and much hated; and the land had to be cleared well before a crop was seeded and this Jim was trying to do, while letting the horses slack their tugs.  I have gone time and time again to watch this procedure even with the smell, even one’s home smelled of it, when you worked among it or used it as fuel, so you would eventually get used to it and think little of it, except to get the sage off, the sod turned and the new land to producing, this was the main thought of the homesteader.

It was real work in those days as one could readily understand, so to get away from it there were days we’d hitch Beauty to the buggy and head out, stopping to visit this or that neighbor, sometimes it was just left up to Beauty the way she would turn in at the nearest neighbor’s home and don’t think those folks didn’t enjoy having visitors as much as we liked visiting.  The door was opened and you were always welcome.  Jim would say as we entered. “Thought I’d let my horses have the afternoon off, they seemed a bit leg weary from harrowing the long rounds. “ He meant the full length of the big bench.  These neighbors always had something new they were working at, like a dress, curtains, or dishtowels, but most generally that time of year it would be freshly made garden, each row marked with this or that in the vegetable line, usually winding up by saying I had some seed over of this, wouldn’t you like to plant it and to make a neighbor feel good, you’d take the seeds, I told her I had to admit we had been planning our garden, but as yet just hadn’t gotten around to it. “We had,” I said, “the garden fever in February when we first sent for the seeds through a catalog”  Before we left, the man had to have Jim see what a nice job he was doing plowing his ground, and how well he had plowed and fixed his wife’s garden.  Of course, down in the flats they expected little of their gardens without rains, and there were times they would have a pretty fair gardens.  A good fence was the first thought, for jackrabbits cared little where they foraged and tender garden vegetables made a delicious dish for them even devouring and destroying parts of large wheat fields, but Jim and I had fenced our garden when there was little else to do.