If it's Monday

If It’s Monday

I spent many days alone as a young child. My mother and father went to work in the early morning hours. It was up to me to rest and recuperate from an illness that kept me out of school for many months. I was homeschooled on some days. I would study some, do puzzles, and daydream my tomorrows, looking out the window.

This was when I discovered my neighbor. She lived her life on a fixed schedule, which is how I could tell what day of the week it was. When you are not feeling well, it is easy to get your days mixed up. They sometimes seemed to fall into each other. I became grateful for Mrs. Green in my life.

For example, if it was Monday, well, then for sure, you would see sheets, pillowcases, towels, and maybe some crocheted doilies, among other little things hanging on her clothesline to dry.

I began to notice that on Tuesdays, she left her back door open for air circulation. The fragrance of damp linen was in the air from her work as she pressed those sheets, pillowcases, and such by rolling them through her fancy Mangle. For those who may not know, “a mangle” was the premier ironing machine of the day.

Wednesdays were special as the aroma of her homemade bread baking in the oven was almost more than any neighbor could manage if they happened by her house.

While Thursday was a quiet day next door, I knew this was Mrs. Green’s day to faithfully attend her garden club. She would often arrive home with a little planting start. Some days she would see me and give me a peppermint candy and show me the little planting.

Friday, you could clearly hear her vacuuming all morning as she prepared the entire household for the weekend.

Even as a child, I appreciated Mrs. Green’s routine. I felt the rhythm of a homemaker, the stability and consistency which I needed to see and hear at that time in my life.

Many years later, if I closed my eyes, I could still sense, smell, and even hear Mrs. Green going about her day. This could give me a feeling of great comfort. At the time, Mrs. Green filled the space of my absent mother.

While that was many years ago, I realize that there are still certain days of the week that are especially meaningful to me. Such as every other Monday, which is “Gloria day” when our housekeeper arrives.

Several days during the week are now “Zoom” meeting days. I also enjoy “Taco Tuesday,” which our family adopted after watching a TV commercial. Most people know “TGIF” (thank goodness it’s Friday). Our family enjoys “sleep late Saturday” and “family Sundays”.

Are there any specific, meaningful weekdays for you?

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sharon Smith was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest (USA); owned a healthcare uniform business for many years. She also lived in Japan and presently resides in Michigan. She blogs about her experiences and shared observations touching on culture, lifestyle, and the people around her.

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3 Comments

  1. Kathy Kish on December 30, 2020 at 6:19 PM

    Love this Sharon…I could smell the baked bread as well as the linen…also my Mom had a Mangle!
    Thanks for sharing!
    Kathy



    • Sharon Smith on January 2, 2021 at 10:33 AM

      Watching someone use the mangle efficiently was a really fun experience for me later in my adult life.



  2. Mikaela on December 31, 2020 at 1:43 AM

    What a lovely story! I could close my eyes and smell the fresh sheets on the line! My grandma always baked bread on Fridays!