I Would Have Been a Terrible Pioneer Woman!

In my opinion, the most laborious, grueling household task is the emptying of the dishes and utensils from the dishwasher. All that bending and lifting, opening cabinets and drawers, bending once again, separating and sorting makes me dizzy and queasiness prevails. It is my least favorite household chore of all.

I can find ways to justify not doing it for hours -- .or even days. While the clean dishes are still residing in their new almost- permanent home, many times, I'll leave a cheery note for my son saying, "Dishes clean!" It makes me feel like I have done my job'"halfway, at least. Of course, my underlying motive is the postponement of this clearly daunting task. I'm hoping he'll use up all the plates, dishes and utensils in some sort of giant feast and it will save me from this most dreaded task.

When I was a student at Meredith College, the housekeeping staff would come by each dorm room to clean the bathrooms. With the commode brush raised in the air in anticipation, they would say, "Need a swish?" We girls were appreciative of the service and we would eagerly say, "Yes! Come on in!"

In my own home, I would choose swishing the commode over emptying the dishwasher. I think the beautiful words, "May I put your dishes away for you?" would evoke the same powerful emotion for me as the words "I love you!"

Now let's take a walk down memory lane to the cleaning routines from the dim days of long ago.Once upon a time, in the traveling pioneer days, they had to stop along the way to wash clothes and dishes in the "crik," climbing in and out of the un-air-conditioned covered wagons all the while wearing cumbersome long dresses and bonnets. Talk about queasiness. In addition, while in their own homes, they had the constant worry of huge rodents, wandering bears and coyotes and lions popping in'"not to mention the Native Indian attacks. (Who can blame them? All they wanted was the return of their land) And how about the task of sweeping the dirt floors'"that's a job that would be a complete waste of time. What would be the point of that anyway? Think of the unnecessary time that would have to be spent at the "crik" cleaning the dirt floor from your long skirt?

Let's advance forward to the early 1920's--still no modern conveniences. However, skirts had risen a bit making cleaning less burdensome. And the dirt had been replaced by real floors. They washed clothes on a metal washboard that had a hand crank on it and then rinsed them in a tub. The water used for cooking and cleaning was hauled in each day from the well. The queasiness factor must have been abominable. They would use a bar of soap that would be rubbed directly on the clothes. The clothes would then be wrung out and hung up in the kitchen or on an outside line. They were taken down the next day and dampened in anticipation of the arduous ironing process. The irons were heated on the stove.

Okay, upon reflection, let it be said that I am now feeling guilty over my loath. I'm going to have to rethink my much abhorred task of emptying the dishwasher. I now realize how fortunate I am that in spite of the queasiness and constant bending, at least I'm doing it on a solid floor where there is no fear of a coyote creeping in or Indians poised to attack, along with the wearing of comfortable, stretchy clothes.

I have come to the conclusion that my dishwasher and its accompanying clean dishes are now my friends and we'll live happily ever after. The End.