Skirting Tradition by Moser Kay

Skirting Tradition by Moser Kay

Author:Moser, Kay [Moser, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Heritage Beacon Fiction
Published: 2017-01-16T05:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 14

The Saturday morning after Thanksgiving dawned dreary and icy cold, but Sarah built the usual fire under the black iron pot and started boiling the family’s laundry. Carefully protected by a quilt, her history book was propped up a safe distance from the fire, and as she stirred the boiling lye-soaped water, she memorized dates and names. Several hours later, when the clothes were all hand wrung and hung on the lines, she looked up at the gathering clouds and prayed that the rain would hold off long enough for everything to dry.

By noon, it became obvious that she would lose the battle against the weather, and she and her mother rushed out into the first drops of rain to rescue the clothes. Jerking them off the lines and wadding them into baskets, they shivered as the first storm of early winter gathered force.

“We’ll just have to finish drying them in here,” Mama said as she pushed through the front door and headed toward the fireplace.

“I could go ahead and iron the shirts and pants,” Sarah suggested. “They’re almost dry.”

“I didn’t intend for you to have to do that. I know you need to study.”

Sarah reached for the heavy irons and put them on the metal stove. “The boys won’t have anything to wear to church if I don’t iron, and I need to press my Sunday dress, too. I can memorize some verses while I work.”

“Do what you can, honey. I’ve got to get dinner on the table. The boys have been helping Pa log that back field, and you can be sure they’ll be coming in awful hungry any time now.”

“What about the baking and Sunday dinner?”

“It’s all got to be done sooner or—” Her mother’s response was cut short by the wail of the baby. “Oh dear! Kazi’s awake. Just what we need.” She rushed out of the room as Sarah shook her head.

“How does she stand it?” Sarah muttered as she hurried up the ladder to switch her history book with a book of verse. When she returned, she propped her book up and snatched several shirts. “It’s absolutely nonstop, one menial task after another.”

By the time the males jostled through the door a half an hour later, Mama had Kazi fed, midday dinner spread on the table, and bread rising in a bowl. Sarah’s pile of ironed, folded laundry looked meager compared to her mother’s work.

“Rain’s coming down hard,” Pa said. “Wouldn’t you know it? Just when I get the boys free from school, it pours.” He noticed Sarah shifting her attention from ironing to studying. “What in tarnation are you doing, Sally?”

“Just memorizing some verses, Pa, while I iron.”

“Ain’t nothing good gonna come of that. You’re either gonna burn yourself or make a mess of the ironing.” He walked over and closed the book.

“I hope you got done with some of the logging.” Sarah’s mother hurriedly diverted his attention.

“Thanks to Radek Sykora, we done pretty well. He came over with his son, Havel, and a team.



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