Preparedness for when

JayneC

GreyQueen wrote: »

Morning all.



Back then, Mum had a single tub washing machine and a separate spin-dryer. Doing the wash was a lot more onerous than using an automatic washing machine. I can still recall holding the crook-shaped rubber outlet hose of the washer or the spinner over the edge of the sink so that it would pump out, and filling and refilling the spin-dryer with cold water from the tap, putting in the rubber spiderweb thingie, snapping down the lid and then leaning on it to stop the thing juddering away from the sink.



Anyone else ever have their laundered but not quite dry undies and socks finished off in the oven before school?

I remember our old twin tub, when mum did the washing little bruv and I used to use the lid as a 'boat' we spent ages surviving the shark infested living room carpet, lol:rotfl:!!

I have to confess that DS has had slightly damp PE top on a Monday morning a couple of times. Spending first thing Monday morning ironing it dry for 20 minutes has unfortunately not translated into me getting more organised:o

thriftwizard wrote: »

Which all triggered an interesting train of thought; DD2 is Moving Bedrooms, into what used to be DS1's room, which is the smallest bedroom at basically 9' x 10' but irregularly shaped, though much warmer than the one she's in now, and "not haunted" in her opinion! As we're struggling with a plan & bits of paper cut to the shape of her furniture, I can't help thinking that there was a beautiful simplicity about my bedrooms as a child/young adult. Bed, bedside table, wardrobe and/or chest of drawers. Possibly a tiny dressing table with mirror, though from 13 upwards I had a bed & a modern wardrobe/drawers/mirror combined unit - smaller room. Sometimes there was room for a little bookshelf, too. And that was it. (Being the only girl, I didn't have to share with anyone past the age of 7.) Homework was done on the kitchen table, or on my bed, with my tranny blasting away, to my mother's horror & dismay.

She's got a bed, bedside table, wardrobe, two sets of drawers, bookshelf and a massive computer/music-mixing desk. And she can't get all her clothes into the wardrobe & drawers anyway. It's not all going to fit in the small room. We're not rich, she's never been spoilt, most of her clothes are secondhand bargains & until her 18th birthday her computer was a third-hand, out-of-the-ark jobby that she still managed to compose some stunning music on. She can't possibly wear all those clothes but can't seem to part with any of them, yet can never find the "right" thing to wear. I can't help thinking that actually, having more stuff is a burden rather than a pleasure; that my simple, limited wardrobe when I was young made decision-making very easy, and tidying my room (not that it often happened) took about 10 minutes.

Also, if TS ever HTF, she'll get Left Behind, because she wouldn't be able to find anything to wear, never mind her passport! Time to persuade her to lighten her load, methinks...

http://www.livingwellspendingless.com/category/kids-and-school/life-with-kids/

Have a look at this. I've not read it properly but my DD told me about it. It's about a mum who takes away her kids toys as she's fed up of the mess, with surprising (or not!?) results

JayneC

mardatha wrote: »

Was it RAS - that explains it then. To me, it was the utter last straw lol. I can only remember almost crying at the price of tatties, as we used to eat a lot of them in soups and main courses.
I think you all underestimate yourselves though. If water was really dear and elect was really dear, then no mum with half a brain cell would even attempt to wash clothes daily. You'd tell the kids to keep clean or else, and you'd sponge dirt off their clothes and shove them back on.
To me, automatic washers are thee invention of the century. i can still mind standing over a bloody horrible twintub (or sink when it broke) with aching back and sore feet and the kitchen soaking wet. God I hated washing!

I had a twin tub when first married - mid 80s so not that long in the grand scheme. I remember having to wash terry nappies in it and gawd what a chore. Sometimes I packed them into a bag and walked to my mum's (about 20 mins away) as she had an automatic and that was easier than doing them at home! Disposable nappies were rubbish then, I used to use them when out and about but they'd fall to bits as soon as they were wet!

daftmummy

:bdaycake:Hello everybody been a way for 3 days and took me an age to catch up ! Had a lovely birthday went out for a chippie tea! and got some lovely thick bed/slipper sock from primart their mens but seem thicker.

GQ re your Iron levels I used spatone ( poor spelling , liquid iron supplement) it was from the health food shop and boots ( on their three for two offer ). You have to take it with orange juice to help absorb the iron. It helped as I have post-partum haemorrhage's with all my labours ( and I'm naughty as I refused blood transfusions )I hated taking iron tablets long term. My levels increased quick. I had a mirreana coil fitted also due to my heavy periods and haven't had one for a long time. Used to use up at least pack of towels aday.:o

Re 1970/80s childhood my mum used to boil wash our socks!! she had five kids and we shared all the same pants, nighties and socks! I thought everyone dried their clothes in front of the fire, ironed dried clothes, de-frosted the milk bottle in front of the fire in the morning, 5p mix ups on a Friday!
I use bio-tex to soak kids shirts every half term to get out stains and if anything is completely wreaked I take the buttons off as spares and it a dish cloth or spare rag. I don't know any of my friends who do this.

Did me no harm :j was funny as I was talking to my sister about if we ever had a bag of chips ( such a treat! ) that we had to share we used to try and share with our brother as he was a slow eater and it ment we would get more:o I had forgotten till we mentioned it and my hubby thought we were joking till I said it was true. And the crust or heals on a loaf of bread was taken in turns to have as it filled you up.

My mum used to buy very cheap jars of damson jam from the woman across the road ( in large mellow birds coffee jars ) as we lived inner city and most people had same idea on getting fruit as it was very slim pickings.

We also had a twin tub that was past on and still going strong! I brought my first washing machine when I was 23! still have it and felt so grown up as it was my first grown up buy. Paid in full in cash with a month of extra night shifts:rotfl:

With my washing machine I was the clothes on 40, doesn't have a 30. Then once it spins I re-spin it to get it as wrung out as possible. Clothes horse then little tumble dry or Iron.

I had my boiler serviced and found out I have a gas leak and £270 later all ok:mad: At least its safe and ready for winter.

Blankets all washed and ready.

jk0

I read the other day that polycotton items don't get really clean unless the water is over 65 degrees C. I have put mine on at 75 since then, and they are cleaner.

bluebag

jk0 wrote: »

I read the other day that polycotton items don't get really clean unless the water is over 65 degrees C. I have put mine on at 75 since then, and they are cleaner.

I must admit I am not a lover of this 30C wash stuff, it isn't very energy saving in my view if you have to wash it twice. I only use it for delicates and things I'm not sure are colourfast.

lobbyludd

I and the children get into pj's on friday night and don't get out of them until after bath on sunday night - for ecological reasons I am very happy with them being feral at the weekend. However, I do wash al clothes after one wash for the working/schooling week; we might be smellier than the average people, but honestly we need cfreshly cleaned clothes or we are anti-social. and as a child of the 70s and with a mother and grandmother who were enslaved by the weekly grind of washing and drying, I am very glad of my washer and tumble dryer in the soggy welsh atmosphere, and they wouldn't be without them either, because otherwise, my very clever female relatives would still be spending their entire lives bashing dirt out of clothes and domestic items. It's easy to get all rose-tinted about ages gone by, when in fact those living in them were blooming glad to be rid of the drudgery. There was still very much a notion that cleanliness was paramount - it was just much, much harder to achieve, and involved, primarily women, devoting much of their lives to attempting to obtain an impossible standard.

but I operate a when in rome policy: on weekends and camping we are feral and smelly and don't care, in a SHTF situation so would everyone else be all the time and I'd gladly relinquish the tyrrany of washing/drying in favour of warmth and comfort.

lillibet_dripping

GreyQueen wrote: »

siegemode, I did try to warn people that The Government Can is catchy.......:rotfl:I love it. Just as well as I can't get it out of my head, either.

I'm still singing it three days later - AND I KNOW ALL THE WORDS NOW!!!!

GreyQueen

Knowing the words.......scary. I just have the tune stuck in my skull and find myself humming it at random moments.

Please share a scene from the febrile pit which is the GQ Imagination.

The Scene; a rah-rah US political rally, with some suits on the podium, lots of banners, a bouncy crowd with lots of banners. There may even be cheerleaders. There will certainly be flashlights bouncing off a lot of scarily-straight and white teeth. Bit like sharks at an aquarium.

The Action:
The Suits will be glad-handing the crowd and perhaps even kissing babies. Security dudes with earpieces will have made sure ahead of time that nobody who looks even slightly contentious is within half a mile of The Suits. All is well on the outside.

But it is all a ruse, for those smiley happy fanboys and fangirls are closet anarchists and, at a pre-agreed signal, stop what they are doing and move into a synchronised song-and-dance routine, carolling The Government Can.

The Suits' smiles become fixed as they realise what is going on, as the words of the song percolate beyond the bouncy singalong tune. More and more fixed. They become rictuses. If they had any shame, they'd blush at this point, but let's not ask for the impossible.

The security dudes are going ballistic in place. How can they arrest people for singing a happy little song? With matching movements? Their masters are becoming more and more agitated. The song ends and immediately repeats, apart from those who are laughing too hard to continue singing.

The Suits have had enough and leave the stage and The Song breaks up into hoots of derision. The limos are waiting outside for the Suits but their drivers are operating under new instructions and take off for the nearest penetentiary. There may be a show-trial and/ or summary executions.

Which will be televised, of course. This is the USA.

George Carlin with be elected Postumous President for Life (PPOTUS) and everyone will live happily ever after.............

My imagination always runs CinemaScope as a minimum standard with Busby Berkley plug-ins as an option.

mardatha

Great reading all the posts on here and has really cheered me up this morning. But also made me think. :eek:
I am tidy, and I am a minimalist.. I would be that mother who got rid of the kids toys. Well I was, often. Because we had a high-rise flat with tiny boxy bedrooms, and if kids have piles and piles of junk then they can never find anything they want either, and they come to mum and moan. Less is always more in my view :D
But the other thing is.... imagine the S has HTF, there are screaming hordes of rioters, looters (or zombies) outside. And you can't find the torch that will let you get downstairs to the door to make sure its bolted and locked. Or you can't find the matches or candles to get upstairs to where the kids are screaming blue murder to shut them up fast. Because you can't remember where you put the bloody thing.
Even a boring powercut - if it happens at 1am and then all hell breaks loose as a child wants a drink/pee/cuddle and finds utter pitch blackness. Then you have to try and get downstairs into the kitchen and grubble around in various cupboards complete with hysterical clinging wee body hanging onto you
It pays to be tidy and organised! (and to live on one level without stairs as I do ..;) )

mardatha

Can I tel you a story?? a true spooky scaaaary one
My daughter rented a house that wasn't at all normal. It was spooky as hell, scared the life out of me, and eventually her 4 kids as well. But she didn't mind it, she liked it. I saw stuff, the kids saw stuff/had bad dreams, the toddler used to talk away to an invisible lady and scream at a horrible man.In the end they were all sleeping in one room with the lights on, and they had to get out.
But this story is about the night the lights went out :eek::eek::eek:
We had got in a medium - my first ever encounter with such a being lol - who told us the story of the house. And it wasn't nice. (We checked with the local newspaper archive and various other bodies and it was all true.) Part of the story was a previous tenant who was mentally ill and who killed his wife then shot himself. (This man was the strong presence in the house, and the medium described him perfectly cos we compared her description to the newspaper photos).
Few days after we found all this out, daughter woke in middle of the night, son was crying cos his light went out. She realised the meter had run out of credit... had no torch, no candles, no matches, nothing.
She had to creep down a really steep victorian stair (in utter pitch blackness cos no streetlights).... through bottom hall....through kitchen....into the utility room....and then the garage. She says every single second she was expecting to see this man loom in front of her or feel him standing behind her. She wanted to run like hell out into the street but couldn't leave the kids.
This was ten years ago and she still has flashbacks. If she had had a torch or candles she wouldn't have to do that nightmare trip. Ever since then she has a house FULL of candles :D
(the other part of the story was a pit disaster right under it. )