her into the coop and as soon as she started gathering the eggs, he started pecking her. She went out into the yard and threw some corn around the yard, hoping to distract him while she gathered the eggs. She wasn’t that lucky. He stayed in the coop and was lying in wait for her.
Rosie took a deep breath and steeled herself before entering the coop again. She was prepared for the little bastard. He waited on the upper level of the coop, though how he got there she didn’t know. As soon as he saw Rosie, he sailed down directly at her. She took the basket in her hands and batted him away. He hit the wall and was a little dazed but got back up quickly. A little wobbly, he walked out of the coup looking like he’d had a few too many drinks.
She hadn’t meant to hit him hard. Didn’t want to injure him, just keep him away from her, so she was glad to see that he was back to normal when she came out of the coop. He charged her, like always, but stopped just short of actually hitting her. So she got lucky and it worked. He was afraid enough of her to stay away. At least for now.
It took Rosie almost all day to milk and feed the cows, gather the eggs, feed the chickens, and fix the meals. And then she still had to do laundry. It made for a very long and tiring day. She boiled the water on the stove, as it got hotter and got the clothes cleaner. She tried to use the water from the faucets at the sink, but the boiler wasn’t that big and she ran it dry in no time. She stirred the laundry in boiling water with a large paddle, used the washboard to scrub each piece of clothing with homemade lye soap and then used a wringer attached to the tub to get the water out. She rinsed in cold water. It seemed to get rid of the soap better and it was easier on her hands than the hot water.
She looked down at her poor hands. They were red and cracked and this was only the second day of chores and the first time doing the laundry. Another week of this and they’d be bleeding if she didn’t have her cream. She was going to have to get Sadie down at the mercantile to order the rose cream she used on her hands by the gallon. Between the laundry and scrubbing the house, her hands were a wreck.
Tired. Lord, she was tired. Her first laundry day wore her out completely. She’d put the kids to bed and then collapsed in bed herself.
Saturdays were laundry day. Sunday was a day of rest. For everyone except Rosie. She still had to do all the meals and her other chores, which on Sunday included the ironing.
And so it went week after week. Sure she’d get used to it, she was surprised when even after a month she was still exhausted every night. It seemed like she forever fell behind. Never enough time to finish everything and goodness knows never enough rest.
There were some things she found ways to improve. For instance, she discovered that while cooking she could do lessons with the kids at the same time. She’d have Ben write down a passage from the book he currently read, then read it out loud to her and together they identified the parts of the sentence. After that she gave him equations to do in arithmetic. For Suzie, she’d started teaching her her letters. She was only three after all. Mostly she just drew pictures on the slate while Ben did his work.
Even on Sundays, she quizzed the children.
“Ben, tell me about the book you’re reading,” Rosie said as she checked the iron to see if it was hot enough. She sprinkled the shirt with water from a small mason jar with tiny holes poked in the lid.
“Well, I’m reading about Captain Nemo and his ship the Nautilus.”
“Yes, go on,” she said as she ironed one of Tom’s shirts.
“The Nautilus is a really special ship. It can go under the water. Can you imagine?”
Rosie smiled. “What do you imagine?”
“Well, I figure there must be all
Rosie took a deep breath and steeled herself before entering the coop again. She was prepared for the little bastard. He waited on the upper level of the coop, though how he got there she didn’t know. As soon as he saw Rosie, he sailed down directly at her. She took the basket in her hands and batted him away. He hit the wall and was a little dazed but got back up quickly. A little wobbly, he walked out of the coup looking like he’d had a few too many drinks.
She hadn’t meant to hit him hard. Didn’t want to injure him, just keep him away from her, so she was glad to see that he was back to normal when she came out of the coop. He charged her, like always, but stopped just short of actually hitting her. So she got lucky and it worked. He was afraid enough of her to stay away. At least for now.
It took Rosie almost all day to milk and feed the cows, gather the eggs, feed the chickens, and fix the meals. And then she still had to do laundry. It made for a very long and tiring day. She boiled the water on the stove, as it got hotter and got the clothes cleaner. She tried to use the water from the faucets at the sink, but the boiler wasn’t that big and she ran it dry in no time. She stirred the laundry in boiling water with a large paddle, used the washboard to scrub each piece of clothing with homemade lye soap and then used a wringer attached to the tub to get the water out. She rinsed in cold water. It seemed to get rid of the soap better and it was easier on her hands than the hot water.
She looked down at her poor hands. They were red and cracked and this was only the second day of chores and the first time doing the laundry. Another week of this and they’d be bleeding if she didn’t have her cream. She was going to have to get Sadie down at the mercantile to order the rose cream she used on her hands by the gallon. Between the laundry and scrubbing the house, her hands were a wreck.
Tired. Lord, she was tired. Her first laundry day wore her out completely. She’d put the kids to bed and then collapsed in bed herself.
Saturdays were laundry day. Sunday was a day of rest. For everyone except Rosie. She still had to do all the meals and her other chores, which on Sunday included the ironing.
And so it went week after week. Sure she’d get used to it, she was surprised when even after a month she was still exhausted every night. It seemed like she forever fell behind. Never enough time to finish everything and goodness knows never enough rest.
There were some things she found ways to improve. For instance, she discovered that while cooking she could do lessons with the kids at the same time. She’d have Ben write down a passage from the book he currently read, then read it out loud to her and together they identified the parts of the sentence. After that she gave him equations to do in arithmetic. For Suzie, she’d started teaching her her letters. She was only three after all. Mostly she just drew pictures on the slate while Ben did his work.
Even on Sundays, she quizzed the children.
“Ben, tell me about the book you’re reading,” Rosie said as she checked the iron to see if it was hot enough. She sprinkled the shirt with water from a small mason jar with tiny holes poked in the lid.
“Well, I’m reading about Captain Nemo and his ship the Nautilus.”
“Yes, go on,” she said as she ironed one of Tom’s shirts.
“The Nautilus is a really special ship. It can go under the water. Can you imagine?”
Rosie smiled. “What do you imagine?”
“Well, I figure there must be all
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