Name a chore....

?

Sprinkling the dog with flea powder and waiting for them to crawl to the surface then picking them off and dropping them into a bowl of water. This was done sitting on the garden steps, as was shelling peas which I enjoyed.

I washed and dried up after our evening meal and Sunday lunch. My brothers did nothing.

That colour description was used quite a lot back in the 50's. Urmstongran. Even the shoe polish.

I was about 10y (we moved I was 11y so it was before that) and I was sent to the local habadashery shop to buy a spool of n***er brown cotton. It was on the label - I read it on the way home.
Bizarre to think of that now.

Cleaning out the grate. Making newspaper into "plaits" and laying the fire with the wood Dad had chopped.
Cleaning brass which I hated!

Washing hen's eggs!
My Grandparents had a large orchard and Nan used to keep chicken. The eggs collected daily were then washed with a damp cloth and sorted into trays ready to be collected by the Egg marketing board. So when I stayed during all the school holidays we would sit in the small scullery chatting as we did them.
Often had all the potato peelings etc cooking away in an old saucepan on a primus stove at the same time, these were fed to the chicken.

Cleaning out the grate and preparing it for being lit.
Bringing in a scuttle of coal.
Laying the table, clearing (siding) the table after a meal.
Going to the local shops ( in all weathers.)
Walking the dog.
Cleaning the bathroom on a Saturday morning.

Yes Ellan the shame!

I used to love chopping wood for the fire.

KatyK, reminds me of the time when I thought mum was going to the shop carrying her bag but it was for the coal that had dropped off the wagon when he went round a sharp bend. I had to pick it up hoping that nobody would see me too. Oh the shame. It was before the coal-man was due.

henetha I use Brasso all the time.

I am ashamed to say that my mother had 7 children and a horrible husband and we rarely lifted a finger to help her. Occasionally she would ask me to take an old pram to the coke yard to be filled with coke when she couldn't afford coal. I would only do it if she gave me threepence and used to hope no one from school would see me.

P.S I used to get 6p--sixpence.

Using wax polish for the furniture and wooden floor surrounds.

Filling the coal scuttle and shovelling the coal so that the coal shed door would close after a delivery of coal.

Making paper spills/twists for the fire.

Putting the washing through the mangle if mum's rheumatism had flared up.

Digging up the potatoes for our meals.

I was always sent to the corner shop to buy cigarettes for my father . I had to light them , draw then pass them to him !

Painting the windowsill with Red Cardinal and filling the coal scuttle.

Toasting bread on a brass toasting fork in front of the open fire in the kitchen. Loved that.

Being sent to fetch more coal from the dark and scary cellar. Hated that.

Rinsed then put the milk bottles on the doorstep. Hand washed my jumpers on a Saturday morning, and sugar starched my petticoats . ( note the plural)

Folding the laundry, shelling peas, dusting. I was not trusted to clean anything delicate or expensive. I remember visiting an Aunt with an outside lavatory so I had to empty my chamber pot each morning if it had been used.

Painting the step with Red Cardinal

Oh yes, cleaning the silver, a job I hated. Ditto going to the local shops when home at lunch time, for a loaf of bread, or some veg from the green grocers, and fags from the off licence! (For Mum!) also shelling peas on the back step, and hoping there were no maggots!
Sometimes on a Sunday we would have winkles for tea, so it was my job to extricate them from the shells with a needle.

I never had regular chores when little.
I do remember sitting on the lawn in summer shelling peas and eating a few !
I was also sent to the corner shop a 10 min walk away for what ever mum needed. She would wrap the coins in a note or in winter would tuck both in my mitten. I did this from about the age of 7. Wouldn't let GS who is the same age do it now

Help Dad to wash his car - they all seem to go to the car wash these days.

Whirring’s not really the right word. Much louder than a whir.