WOOF: Happy Mother's Day!

WOOF ran across this little historical tribute to APRONS and thought it would be a fun way to honor Mother’s Day …

Back in the day, the principal use of a woman’s apron was to protect the dress underneath because she only had a few. It was also because it was easier to wash aprons than dresses and aprons used less material. But along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.

It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.

When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids..

And when the weather was cold a woman wrapped it around her arms

Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.

From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, a woman walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men folk knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that served so many purposes.

REMEMBER:

There was a time a woman set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool. Today her granddaughter sets hers on the window sill to thaw.

Wouldn't folks go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs were on that apron?

We don't think anyone ever caught anything from an apron - but love...

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I'm Not the Woman I Thought I Was - A Mother's Day Poem

When I was in my twenties, I was a woman
With a flat stomach and ten polished fingernails,
A woman with a handsome boyfriend.

When I was in my thirties, I was a woman
Who was smart and professional, who wore a fur coat and high heels
And had an apartment with a view.

When I was in my forties, I was a woman with two babies
Who lived in a condo with no view,
Who wondered what she gotten herself into.

When I was in my fifties, I was a woman who mothered a mother,
Who chafed and struggled, who admired what I had borne,
And who wondered who I was.

And now I know I am a woman who had a flat stomach and
Ten polished fingernails, a handsome boyfriend;
A smart, professional woman who wore heels and a fur coat
And had an apartment with a view. My dry husk, attached to a twig.

Now I know I am a woman who, with a mate of such good fortune,
Had two babies who grew honorable and compassionate,
Even though she lived in a condo without a view
And wondered what she had gotten herself into. My struggling self, trying to push free.

And now I know I am a mother who mothered a mother, often badly,
But tried, and found the view in her own backyard,
And understood what she had gotten herself into,
And untied her heart so that it could , at last, lift with gratitude.
My wings, drying in the sun, unfolding to my own amazement.

By WOOFer, Joann Dunn

Joann Dunn is also an author. Find out about her Curtis Family Chronicles on her website:

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Mary Cunningham (Milkbone)

Mary Cunningham Books