the place where I grew up
was working class poor
small houses in a row
and slogging toil at the shipyards
the house had only a few rooms
with water connected to a bathroom
that butted onto the kitchen
with the washing machine in the middle
complete with mangle
the bathroom served as an overflow larder
with a timber rack
stretched across the bath
to accommodate jellies
packet goods and what-not
we had a gas heater arrangement
with the geyser on the wall
above the bath taps
we\'d have to put a match to the pilot light
to crank it up
then the gas warmed up the water
and there you had it
friday was bathing night
the food and the rack across the tub
all had to be moved out
before we could heat the water
to get in for a scrub
of course
as a small tyke
it was a case of mum first
and then me
but I had a tub to myself when I grew bigger
if I needed a clean before friday night
mum would get me to balance
way up in the kitchen sink
then set to work on me with the flannels
as a young man
I\'d use the sink in the kitchen
to freshen up a bit before I went out
we had to boil the water on the stove
transfer it by pot and pan to the sink
then mix it in with cold water
so that I wouldn\'t accidentally cook my under-arms
made a heck of a mess on the floor
during the week
I\'d stand on one leg to wash my feet
in the sink
seems a marvellous achievement
to me now
given the height of the thing
so
to answer your question
no I didn\'t wash my hair every day
when I was a young bloke
and no
it wasn’t particularly strange
that’s just how it was
~