THE APRON

I don't think our kids know what an apron is.

The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.

It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven. When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids. And when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms.

Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove. Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron. From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls. In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds. When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that "old-time apron" that served so many purposes.

REMEMBER: Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool. Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw.





I received the above in an email last week. It sent me down memory lane. I have vivid recollections about aprons. I first saw an apron like this at our summer cabin. My mother wore one, but only during the summer when we were at the cabin. The elderly woman down the dirt road from us also wore such an apron. They seemed to be the "dress of the day" at many of the cabins.

My mother used hers, not only for cooking, but for many events that included me. When I saw the apron put on Friday evenings, I knew it was time for my bath. Water was heated on the wood burning stove and poured into a huge galvanized tub. I must have been one of the last who had such experiences. There was an outhouse in my life up there too. And I remember them delivering ice for the ice box. One of the first duties when we arrived was to prime the pump. Oh that water tasted so good. The garbage was carried out in a pail to a hole behind the outhouse, dumped and covered with dirt. The nights were cool but the flannel sheets felt so good.

A number of neighbors shared apples and other fruits and mother would carry them home in the apron. My grandmother wore the same kind of apron. She crouched and would keep her ball of thread in the pocket and tuck her needle and work in beside it. When she would sit and chat, she pulled out the crochet hook and go to work on her project, never looking at it, while they talked. It always amazed me that she hardly ever glanced down at her work. And, it was always so pretty and perfect. Pockets were handy places also for dropping in things that needed to go into the wastebasket as she walked through the cabin. I remember that mother quite often carried a small pair of scissors in her pocket. I still have that ancient pair and treasure them.

I have worn the same type apron for a number of years now, switching more recently to the shorter cobbler version. I use the older one when I give the dog a bath. It's perfect and so much easier than the ones they show in the catalogs for dog bathing. When I have to comb a dog out in the winter, the apron holds all of the fur and can be picked up and taken the wastebasket. The large pockets are so useful for so many things that need to be moved from place to place, upstairs to downstairs and back. I carry my digital camera around in those wonderful pockets.

It all started when I was fed up with all of the grease spots on my shirts from cooking. Sure, we have sprays today that you can use before laundering. But half the time I forgot to spray the darn top and it went through the laundry only to come out with the spots still there.

More recently I've switched to the cobbler apron because it's easier to move around in and does look a wee bit better if I have to go outside to find my husband. Young neighbors looked at me like I had taken leave of my senses. Older women smiled as they walked by. Cobblers are wonderful all day long. But now that I'm a senior they are the best when it comes to eating. I can spill all I want and not feel bad. One of my catalogs offers "bibs for seniors". Not me! I refuse to wear a bib when I put dinner on the table. I'll save that for the nursing home.

So give me my "granny aprons"any day. There they proudly hang in my kitchen. One with dogs on it, one with kitchen gadgets on it, and a cobbler with pretty colors for the waiting. I grab the one to match the occasion and put it on with all of the memories and a closeness to my mother and grandmother.