WHILE on the subject of broken washing machines, a verse written in the latest edition of Linkline by a new Hindley Green pensioner, brought back many memories of washing days when they were tough.

I remember watching my grandma toiling over a dolly tub and wringers.

Was it only half a century ago that women had to contend with Mondays up to their armpits in suds?

The poor writer's chore after finishing school was washing her dad's filthy pit clothes which had been left soaking in the dolly tub by a shattered mother!

MONDAY

MY washing machine has blown a fuse, still I have to laugh, because now I've got my towels soaking in t'bath.

The socks are in a bucket and the undies stuck in t'sink, how they went on in t' Good Old Days, my it makes you think.

No biological powders so clothes only need a soak, there was soda and Lanry and hard carbolic soap.

Boiling whites and towels 'till they looked just grand, but all that bleach and soda didn't half fleece your hands.

Then you rinsed them in t'slopstone 'till they were rinsed through. Then some went in t'starch and some in t'dolly blue.

My spin-dryer's still working and that I'm thankful for, I'll not have wet washing dripping all over t'floor.

I don't have to use a posser or a dolly tub, all those mucky clothes you had to rub and scrub. Up and down the rubbing board, your knuckles were red and sore, just to get your clothes clean, my what a chore!

Then squeeze them through the mangle 'till your arms were dropping off. The young ones today don't half have it soft. There were no tumble dryers, life must have been hard. There was only a clothes line out in t'back yard.

My washers coming back today, the engineer's fixed it; it's only been a week away, but oh how I've missed it. I'm really very grateful that I'm living in an age where washers and dryers are all the rage.

Aren't we all?