This morning I was remembering my summertime visits to my Grandma Stevens’ little farm. I’d stay for a week every time. I played in the woods across the road from her house for hours. Sometimes Uncle Leo’s kids would come up and play, or I’d walk to their house. They lived just up the road from Grandma a mile or so away.
On one of my visits I was there having the time of my life as usual; it was approaching bedtime when Grandma said to me, “We’re going to wash our feet out on the porch.” She got the enamel-wear bowl she used for hand-washing, put warm water in it, and set it below the two steps that went down into the porch. Then she took off her shoes, sat down on the top of the steps, put her feet in the bowl, and washed them. I was rather puzzled about it; why was she showing me how to wash my feet? I had never done that before when I stayed at her house, but after this happened, I always washed my feet before bed at her house.
But in summer when school was out, I can’t for the life of me remember ever washing my feet before going to bed. I ran around going through puddles and gardens and fields, but I do not recall ever washing my feet regularly. Here’s the strange thing: I don’t remember my mother ever telling me to wash my feet at bedtime, either! I never got that message until I was at Grandma’s house that time, and I don’t think I took that lesson home with me, either! My mom wasn’t a dirty lazy person. She washed the clothes in a wringer washer, and back then women wanted their white clothes WHITE! She used bleach and bluing and hung sheets on the line with pride, because other people might see them. But she never said anything to me about how dirty my sheets were (not that I would have noticed they were dirty anyhow). We moved to the city when I was eleven, and it wasn’t long until we had a house with running water and a bathtub.
The bottoms of my feet have always looked dirty in summertime, though. It isn’t that I don’t bathe, but if you’re walking outside barefoot all the time, it would take bleach to clean the bottoms of your feet; soap and water won’t do it. I used to garden barefoot, milk the cows barefoot, step in cow manure barefoot (accidentally, but still); I’d go to the nearest hose or puddle or pond, wash it off, and go on my way. I actually had a friend one time whisper to me that her mother wanted me to start washing my feet before I went to bed at her house. I was twenty years old at the time!
True confessions. But you all knew I was a little weird, right?
Most of my neighbors near the farm don't wear shoes all summer long too. They are Amish though.
ReplyDeleteRight. And they don't answer to anyone who isn't Amish.
DeleteI grew up just the opposite in the wearing of shoes. My parents were always warning me against going barefoot. To this day I feel insecure in bare feet...even with sandals. But I grew up in a much cooler climate than Missouri as well. Rebecca in MO
ReplyDeleteMy husband's first five years were just as hillbilly like as mine, down in the Ozarks, but he can't stand to go barefoot. His feet are very tender.
DeleteI'm barefoot as I read this and type my comment. I've always been more comfortable barefoot, inside or outside in all kinds of weather. I've been known to check the mail in the snow barefooted, but then I'm sure a lot of people don't consider me all that bright anyway, not that I lose any sleep over it. I grew up with a hand pump, wringer washer and no inside plumbing. Any bathing was done in the No. 2 wash tub that doubled as the rinse water tub weekly clothes washing, or later we acquired a double wash tub that we bathed in. Baths were usually once a week except for special occasions, and in winter time we heated water on the stove for baths. In warmer weather we filled the tub in the morning and let it set in the sun all day to warm up, or else just suffered with cold water straight from the hand pump. My feet were always rusty as Mama called it, and still are to an extent, even though I shower every day. When I was very small Mama would set me in the double sink filled with warm water and bath me before bed, or later stand me in a chair by the sink and wash me off with a soapy rag before bed. I know I've gone to bed many times with nasty feet, especially when I got big enough that I was supposed to be keeping myself clean and it just didn't seem like a priority when I was tired from playing all day. We had enamel dishpans and a wash pan that daddy used for shaving, and we also had some big aluminum dishpans for cooking and every day use.
ReplyDeleteAnybody that thinks you're not bright is crazy. When we get talking about the good old days, I am so happy I had that kind of childhood. Since that was all we knew, we were fine with no water in the house, going out to a cold toilet in winter (or seeing a snake on the floor after I was sitting to do what I came to do). Kids these days couldn't handle it.
DeleteMomma made us wash our feet before bed in an enamel wash pan like that. We’d wash face and necks and then feet.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure my mother made me clean up when school was in session, even though I don't remember it. But I know she would never have sent me anyplace looking tacky or dirty.
DeleteMy aunt was the one to make me wash my feet and face before bedtime. To this day, a facewash always makes me want to wash my feet as well. I hated shoes as a child and ma no stranger to that #2 washtub!
ReplyDeleteWhen I was growing up, we never went places. My mother didn't drive. My father worked long hours at the steel mill. We wore shoes once every two weeks when we walked into town to meet the bookmobile. Other than that, we never wore shoes. I never wear shoes inside the house, but I keep easy to slip into shoes at the door for going outside.
ReplyDeleteSheesh. I was talking about summer. We wore shoes to school.
DeleteI'm the opposite, I don't like being barefoot. It could be because I was running once (no shoes) and stepped on a huge banana slug. It was revolting. I've also stepped on nails a few times with shoes on and had to get tetanus shots which hurt! I don't wear shoes or sometimes socks in my house though. I don't like the idea of tracking whatever stuff I walked in all over my floors where my grandsons play/crawl.
ReplyDelete