A SATURDAY NIGHT TRADITION.
Growing up I never questioned why everyone bathed only once a week--on Saturday Nights. I only remember wanting to be first, before all the hot water ran out. Heating water was a long process. It always took the one and only hot water heater several hours to heat enough water for the next bath.
After TV took-control of our lives, we began our nighttime bathing routine earlier—usually Saturday afternoons—so we wouldn’t miss our favorite TV Shows.
As children...we mostly accepted our daily schedules. I don't remember ever asking WHY we all used the same soap and shampoo, and---on several occasions--the same towels. Recently, thinking about it, I still wonder why everyone bathed on Saturday Nights....rather than Monday Nights or Wednesday Nights? Why didn’t we bath every night....or every-other-night?
I’ve decided that, long ago, people didn’t bathe as often due to the shortage of money. When you had a hot-water heater, it cost money to heat the water and water cost money too. Imagine when there were no hot-water heaters, when people heated water on a wood stove and struggled to fill a washtub or copper tub or whatever people used back-then for bathing.
When we visited my grandparents in Missouri, bathing took on a new meaning. It meant a washtub, a kettle of hot water, a back porch, and no privacy. A one-time experience was enough for me but…I believe everyone should know about being poor back- then… as well as poor, today.
I was in the tenth grade when my father built a new house for our family. That’s when I learned how our next-door neighbor demanded frugality from every family member. Although she limped badly from having Polio as a child, had only one breast because of cancer, the short and slightly stout woman was anything but a weakling. She had blackboards hanging on the kitchen walls, near the back door. There was a blackboard schedule for bathroom use, including bathing. Each member of the family checked the schedule to find their bathroom time, bathing time, even their meal time schedule. One rule, written in chalk stated: If you aren’t seated at the table at your scheduled time, you won’t be allowed to eat until your next scheduled meal or the next day.
There was also a blackboard for chores and responsibilities. Find your name and you’d find your responsibilities. No one argued or complained. There was a blackboard detailing specific punishments as well. What I found most fascinating about the neighbor’s military approach to schedules, rewards, and punishments, it seemed to work.
Like many housewives during the fifties and sixties, the neighbor smoked and…to save money…she bought loose tobacco and papers and rolled her own cigarettes. She had a little wooden contraption with a handle on the side. As she turned the handle, a set amount of tobacco emptied onto one of the papers, and then a mechanism dropped down to seal the paper from end to end before pushing it onto a waiting tray. I watched the housewife collect the cigarettes and store them in a metal tin.
When it came to bath time at her house, the Mistress of Frugality was prepared. She had expertly marked the bathtub around the sides with a strong tape, something similar to duct tape, and everyone knew not to fill the tub beyond that mark! Also, each member of the family had one washcloth and one towel and it was their responsibility to keep it clean and ready for the next bath.
I can’t end this story without telling you about the neighbor’s younger, unmarried sister who lived across the street. She basically lived in a wheel chair because she, too, suffered Polio as a child but….she had a much-different lifestyle. Somewhat attractive, although over-weight, this sister loved to wear bright-colored smocks, gypsy-like jewelry, nail polish, lots of makeup, and listen to big-band music. And, every day of the week, the younger sister entertained men. It was almost like a neighborhood soap opera, watching men (never women) of all shapes, ages, sizes, professions---in every kind of automobile, vehicle--- visit the younger sister. Apparently, younger sister had a blackboard too. How else could she keep up with so many men, so many visitors, and so much daily activity?
Those were the days when neighbors talked to their neighbors and, from time to time, shared little tidbits of information. One neighbor said he’d heard the younger sister was a Fortune Teller with a real glass ball and could predict the future. He hadn’t actually seen the Ball because her drapes were always closed on the windows facing his house. But, his wife, who worked at the town’s largest bank, said the younger sister made large cash deposits every week to both her checking and savings accounts. Fortune-telling must have really paid well in those days.
I’ve known some talented women during my lifetime. Some were highly-creative, even while sitting in a chair.