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Bare Feet on a Clean Floor

Bare feet on a clean floor………..sounds like the title of a country western song, but it’s just how I’m feeling this morning.
A quick Saturday morning housecleaning, to make time and mental space for a couple hours of soapmaking. Just the ticket!
Back in the dark ages when I was a girl, Saturdays always heralded a day of major cleaning, under the close eye of my grandmother. Mats taken out, scrubbing, waxing and polishing of the floors, (tile in those days) windows, beds, etc. She taught me well.

But then there was the payoff! While I was completing household chores, she was busy at the old wood stove. Loaf after loaf of delicious fragrant bread, a cake, a couple of pies. Always some homemade jam. Always some molasses and cheese. And then on Sunday, the visitors! And one of the big reasons for the baking and cleaning.
In those days, late 60’s, early 70’s, neighbors and relatives spent Sundays visiting. Chatting, meeting new babies, playing cards. And having a meal. I remember it well, and if I close my eyes, I can still see the humble old kitchen that we grew up in. The dishes didn’t match, houseplants that were planted in re-used cans stood in neat rows on the windowsills, and the rockers were pretty well worn right off the old wooden rocking chair. What a foundation we got. The lessons that were learned.

Fast forward to today’s world of speed, efficiency and technology. Nothing similar about it. Everyone is either working or too busy to socialize to the degree that we did 50 years ago. And we’ve accepted it. Do we have nice furniture? Sure. Sets of dishes and silverware? Yep. Would I trade those old memories for anything? Not a chance. They made me who I am, and I think that’s pretty cool.
Bare feet on my hardwood floor………brings back precious memories.

Share some of yours!

2 thoughts on “Bare Feet on a Clean Floor

  1. What a fantastic story! It visually took me back to many great memories, smells and traditions I had as a child growing up. Playing with groups of children all day until the parents called up and down the road that it was time to come in. Hanging laundry on the line or playing hours of crib with my dad are just a couple memories from a different time. A time of face to face communication. A time where you could receive a hug on a daily basis! Why do we accept less than we deserve?
    Although, I don’t consider myself ‘old’ yet. Haha. I truly miss the more simply ways of life. I try to keep some of those traditions with the wood stove and a clothes line. But, I dream of a time without internet, smart phones and processed food everywhere.

    Thanks for sharing your story.

    1. Thank you, you just made my day!

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