Fun: CELLARS

Yes, Delly had a cellar and we had one too. Both smelled funny all of the time. It was impossible to say which was worse. To reach our cellar we used the back porch steps, left under the porch, one deep step down and Voila! Another world to investigate.

 

On a raised platform made of wooden boards were two wash stands with discolored brass faucets, a black gas range with a white door. On its ledge sat a box of safety matches. Only Mama was allowed to light the range. There were two galvanized (whatever that word meant) wash tubs in which she boiled and blued Daddy’s white office coats.

One tub, deeper but smaller, was kept for sterilizing glasses for patients to use when they swished water around their mouths. That one seemed to always be boiling. Could Daddy have been such a busy dentist that he needed so many? I think not, as I can still see his black appointment book lying on Minnie’s desk, large Xes marking off noon dinners, evening suppers, Fridays off and many blank spaces.

 

Near the rusty sink was a long black hose, snaking on the floor, water leaking from the detached end. We had to re-attach it to wash the concrete back yard and garage, PLUS the garbage cans. Two of the bestest things I could do on a stifling hot day were to squirt the dirt down the drain pipe to the alley and to hose down the oily garage. What a challenge that was! The grease made beautiful rainbow rivers as it slid smoothly under the doors but never disappeared completely. Mama didn’t tell me to do it, but I really liked to blast the maggots right off the walls when they crawled out of the garbage cans.

 

Under the porch was a small pipe carrying wires for the garage mlight that Roz and I and my other friends used for chinning, skin-the-cat and as a hose-holder-upper. When we got the hose settled, just right, icy cold showers were ecstacy. But, to sit in the tubs, we had to wait for Mama to shlepp kettles of boiling water to add to the cold so we wouldn’t freeze our tushes off. Poor Mama. She had to go up and down the stairs a lot of times, carry her dented, steaming hot, tea kettle.

 

Sometimes I felt sorry for her. It was a shame she was too big to fit into our tubs.