I remember my grandma using our 1900’s Cream City copper kettle when she was doing laundry. I was pretty young back then, but old enough to notice the level of depth doing the laundry represented.
Imagine having to soak your clothes in a copper tub, use a washboard to scrub the clothes (not too hard, they’re supposed to do the work for you), hand wring them, and finally hang to dry on a makeshift clothesline in your cellar. That’s a lot of steps!
We’ve come a long way baby.
The copper kettle was retired from its laundry role when my grandma purchased her first electric washing machine. The kind of machine that should’ve boasted a warning – “keep fingers far away from the rollers or you’ll lose ’em’!” It was a loud and scary machine as it swished clothes in water. Grandma’s basement cellar walls echoed as the machine moaned – reminds me of the intimidating laundry scene in the 1990’s “Home Alone” movie.
After the wash cycle, when the machine had quieted, we’d climb down the rickety stairs to begin grandma’s next step. I’d be mesmerized as she fed the clothes through the rollers. The water was squeezed out of the clothes effortlessly, no more hand-wringing each item for that lady. I frankly don’t know how she never lost a finger.
I remember being terrified as I watched grandma do the laundry. I was afraid I’d lose a finger or a limb or two if I ever attempted to help. Thankfully, I wasn’t scarred for life – I actually kind of enjoy doing laundry.
Grandma’s new and improved washing machine gave my mom the opportunity to reclaim the old kettle pot. She was ecstatic and so proud to not use it for its original intended purpose.
Mom was not a fan of doing laborious type laundry. Thank goodness we had a newer version of washing and drying machines in our house. She kept the washboards though and used them every time she did laundry. I, on the other hand, have never used them for their intended purpose – instead, they’ve been reclaimed as decorations in my laundry room.
I’ve come a long way baby.
Back when the copper kettle joined the home I grew up in, it was used mostly as decoration and during the winter as storage for wood burned in our fireplace.
I really can’t remember if anyone of us ever tried to polish it to restore the bright copper color. There appears to be some residual of polishing liquid around the brand name, but the rest of it looks pretty much like we never polished it. The size of it indicates too big of a project to tackle – the labor involved is reminiscent of its original laundry role. I know I’ve never wanted to take on the task (still don’t…!).
Being over a hundred years old, I would think it would be in worse looking shape. I suppose if it continued over the years doing laundry, it would look a bit more worn, and tired, and ready to be discarded. But nope, it’s a piece of treasured art history.
Now it resides in our home, as decoration (and seasonal object storage – hope my grandmother and mom are proud of me for not doing laundry in it!).
I adore the quaint patina on it. It is just the right color – adding character and bits of family history – reminding me of how far we’ve come, baby!
