My gran was in charge of finances in the days when the working man came home with an unopened wage packet
on Friday, slapped it down on the chenille clothed table, say, “there you are love, there’s your wages.”
She had a looooong tin with slits, marked,
gas, coalman, insurance man, tally man, milkman,
had a proper old fashioned purse, knew exactly how
many shillings she had to last the week.
My mum used to say regularly, “if your father goes first I wouldn ‘t know where to start”
Bills would come in and dad would write a cheque, ask mum
to post it! or self importantly march down to the Gas /Electricity Board shop on the High Street (remember those?) and pay it there.
Mum had ‘housekeeping money’ with double at Christmas so Dad did not have to do anything extra.
He had a desk/bureau in which he presumably kept bills, receipts whatever and LOCKED it, mum never knew where the key was.
I don’t know if this was usual in their generation, born mid 1920’s housewives as mushrooms.
When she died my sister found 800£ stashed in a boot at the bottom of her wardrobe,
her running away fund I suppose, taken years to accrue.