Laundry, laundry, laundry.
The last few days have had a good bit of Blogging about laundry, Who knew it would be so entertaining. It also sparked a memory in my burnt out gourd. Something I haven’t thought of in years. I guess I’m starting to relive my childhood
1961 or 1962, not sure exactly. My family was visiting my grandparents in Tenn. at their massive 1 acre chicken ranch.
This is the first time I ever remember doing laundry and I seemed to have a talent for it.
Grandma had an old style wringer washer in a shed in the dooryard and I was trying to be her number one (only) helper. It’s the least I could do to pay her back for teaching me to sew the year before.
She also let me be the tub handler the night before. This involved a chicken, a hatchet, a chopping block and a tub to quickly cover the bird until it realized it was dead. I done my job with the tub good.
Anyway I was helping and finally got to feed the washed clothes into the wringer so Grandma could hang them on the line. She found some money that got washed and was hanging it up to dry and I was looking at her hanging the bills right next to socks and underwear. Struck me as really funny, until I felt a tug on my fingers. Yup, I was about to wring my very own most favorite right arm. Understandably I started to scream, but Grandma had her back to me and was more than a little bit deaf and I watched my arm slowly being fed into that wringer and it started to hurt some and would really get going when it reached my elbow. Just as it was reaching this point Grandma turned to get another piece of clothing and saw what was happening. I never thought that women could move so fast. She hit some lever and the wringer popped open without crushing my elbow.
She tried to catch me as I stormed out but missed and my Father running from the house met me but I shrugged him off crying and mad.
I was mad because I had done something so stupid.
I must have passed out when I got into the house because I woke up in a Doctors office as he was telling my Father that My arm wasn’t broken and I would be fine.
Strange what one word in someone’s comment on a Blog can dredge up.
I guess this is why I don’t mind doing laundry anymore.
I’d forgotten all about being a chicken wrangler and laundry wringer.
YEEE HAAA!
From: OHIO, United States
About me: Lazy semi old bum with no ambition and even less motivation to fulfill my dreams or potential.
Random ramblings from my beer soaked melon about politics, religion, sex, stupidities, nature, and any other subject that penetrates the haze. Sometimes crude and not for the faint of heart or people with normal intelligence, or an abundance of common sense.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
WRINGER WRANGLER
posted by Nit Wit at 6:32 AM
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10 Comments:
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Holy crap! That would hurt!!
No venus fly traps for me, thanks. Or any freaky plants from "Little Shop of Horrors." Is that what that movie was called?
Real people drive with tread on their tires... these guys don't. It's a little harder to drive in the rain with no tread, but it can be done. Plus, no windshiled wipers. -
i cant believe im going to tell this story..when asshole #1 and i were married, we had a wringer washing machine...i was doing the laundry and realized i was going to do mostly all whites so decided to take off my bra and toss it in there too...yup...you know where this is going..i leaned over to toss it in and ........got my right tit caught in the wringer..i did the pop the top on it too, and judas fucking priest..it was worse than child labor..it hurt soooo bad...and the worse part was...who am i going to tell? gee, i am so stupid i got my tit caught in the washing machine wringer...so i had to suffer in silence as i was 16 years old and too embarrassed to tell anyone what i had done...notice it didnt stop me now..hahah
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At 5:42 AM,
I love your website. It has a lot of great pictures and is very informative.
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Funny how one think can open doors to happenings in your memory of things forgotton. I know there's a lot I have forgotton in my life and when things jog my memory it's usually bad stuff that I remember. My mother had one of these semi-automatic deals that hooked up to the sink. This was her Saturday routine. When it looked like rain we'd all run out and grab the clothes off the line..hehehe more laundry memories