Tied to the apron strings . . .
This came to me via email overnight and I love it because I still wear an apron. As soon as I walk into the house, the apron comes off the kitchen door-handle and is tied at my back. My mum wears an apron, my memories of my grandmother were floral aprons.
I’m messy in the kitchen and clean my own house, so aprons are necessary if I don’t want masses of washing and ironing. I wear a plastic gardening apron sometimes, because gardening’s gloriously messy.
The email arrived with the images as well, and whilst I’ve never had such frou-fro aprons (more the chef’s or butcher’s sort), I was struck by the fact that a medium was size 14-16. Hmm!
Possibly as a wearer I’m part of a dying breed, but whatever, at least my grandkids, if and when they come in the far-off future, will have be-aproned images of their nanny to remember her by.
“The History of ‘APRONS’
I don’t think our kids know what an apron is.
The principal use of Grandma’s apron was to protect the dress underneath because she only had a few. It was also because it was easier to wash aprons than dresses and aprons used less material.
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…
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 husks.
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 folk knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.
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.
They would go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs were on that apron.
I don’t think I ever caught anything from an apron – but love…”