Affirmations for the Resistance #8

Pulpwood Joke

Two Louisiana gentlemen who’d always worked in the pulpwood industry found themselves in a bad way when the pulpwood industry fell off.  Hearing of a state employment office, they headed down there, hoping for work.

Joe saw the counselor first.  “I see you’ve always worked in the forestry industry.  Exactly, what did you do?”

”I cut pulpwood!”  He answered proudly. “When I get going, can’t nobody keep up with me.  I’m the best pulpwood cutter in the country.”

”I’ll bet that’s something to see,” answered the counselor “but the pulpwood industry is dead around here.  I don’t have a single job for a pulpwood cutter.  Hope it picks up soon.”

He showed Joe the door.  “Next!”

Bubba followed him in. He was out in just a few minutes.  “I got a job!  I start tomorrow or the next day!”

Joe couldn’t handle that and stormed back in, confronting the counselor.  “What’s going on here?  How come you found him a job and not me?”

“We don’t have any jobs for a pulpwood cutter, but he’s a pilot.  We have lots of jobs for pilots!” answered  the counselor.

“That don’t make no sense!  If I don’t cut it, how’s he gonna pile it?”

 

 

Little House in the Big Woods – Jennie Fitzkee

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Reblogged from A Teacher’s Reflections:

I began reading aloud a new chapter reading book, Little House in the Big Woods, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.  In thirty minutes, I had read only four pages.  Four!  There was so much happening in the story, we had to stop and talk.  That always means learning.  And a captive audience.

Let me back up, as there is much to tell about yesterday…

The day before, we finished reading The Story of Doctor Dolittle.  At the end of the book I closed it and said, “I don’t want the book to end.”  This is what happened next:

Ella said, “Can we read it again and again and again?”

Me:  ” I wish we could, Ella.  Your Mom and Dad can read it to you again.”

Ella:  “But I don’t have the book.”

Me:  “The library has the book.  Mom and Dad can get it…

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Laundry in the Old Days Part 2

 

Image courtesy of Pixabay

Once all that mountain of wash was done, the heavy, wet wash had to be lugged out to the clothes line, no small feat. Mother had three lines stretched between T-shaped supports. Shaking each piece in shape after its trip through the wringer, the towels and diapers gave a nice, sharp pop! She propped the heavy lines up with clothes line poles so the wash could dance in the breeze. Woe be it to the foolish kid who’d run off with her clothes lines poles. I’ve been known to do it!

She usually sent us out several times to check to see if the laundry was dry. There is no smell fresher than line-dried laundry. I just loved sliding into bed between sheets fresh off the line. The mountain of laundry was likely to be piled on a bed till it could be folded.

Starched clothes came off the line still slightly damp, if she caught them at just the right time. Rolled into tight balls and stuffed into a pillow case, they’d be stuffed into the freezer till ironed. If they got completely dry, she’d have to sprinkle them before stuffing them in the pillowcase, by dipping her hand in water and flipping droplets on the clothes. One Christmas, I gave her a sprinkler cap that fit in a coke bottle. She said it was the most useful gift she ever got, making her sprinkling so much easier.

When Mother had to wash in rainy or wet weather, laundry was hung lines on the back porch, and on chair backs. Once in a while, after a string of rainy day, she’d get desperate and have to take laundry to the Washateria to dry, but that was a huge hassle and unnecessary expense, not to mention, we only had one car. That meant she had to take Daddy to work and pick him up, with small children in tow.

As soon as we were old enough, we were pressed into service on clothes line duty and folding and putting away the laundry that didn’t have to be ironed. Naturally, I thought that was awful, having to do “Mother’s work.” I did have enough sense to keep my opinions to myself after a couple of complaints, though.

Mother kept an eye out for sudden rain, flying to the line to get her laundry. If it wasn’t quite dry, it went on the back porch to finish. Laundry had to be in as early as possible, for fear of sudden showers. God forbid, from time to time, birds left a surprise on the drying clothes.

At the end of this relaxing day, Mother usually set us down to a slow-simmered supper(not dinner) of beans or soup and cornbread since she’d been working on laundry all day.

It was the life!