By Doreen Chalmers – Fairview, Alta.
When I was just a kid in the 1930s, my grandma made aprons from the sacks that flour, sugar, and seeds came in. After many washings, the sacks became softer and easier to sew.
She had a clean apron on every morning. Her housedress may have been the same as the day before, but there was always a different apron.
Grandma’s aprons came in handy in so many different ways. They were potholders to take out baking and roasters from the hot oven. Then, she’d grab the handle of the stove lid, lifting it to stoke the fire and add more wood until it took hold again.
When making loaves and loaves of bread, cakes, and dozens of cookies, flour tended to get all over the place, including her face. She’d give it a swipe with her apron and carry on. A quick whisk of grandma’s apron could make spots on silverware disappear like magic!
Shoo hens and pick vegetables
At times she’d go out to the porch, slip on her rubber boots and head for the chicken coop. She used her apron to flap at a hen to shoo her off her nest so grandma could gather the eggs in her apron “basket”.
In the garden, she’d pick whatever she needed for supper. Potatoes, carrots, and onions were tucked into her apron pouch to get ready for the evening meal.
Grandma’s apron often served as a crying towel for the little ones. She’d wipe the tears from their teensy red faces with a corner of her apron, give them a hug and off they’d go again, cookie in hand.
When she spotted company coming up the road, she’d quickly whip off her apron and hang it on the hook behind the pantry door. She’d straighten her stockings, held up with old sealer rings and smooth down her dress. A hasty hand would run over her tight bun of grey hair to tidy any stray ends and she was ready to meet and greet.
Whenever I stayed over at grandma’s, I could hear the clickety-clack of the old treadle sewing machine. She was probably making another apron or two!
