We lived in a typical four room house where we all lived in quiet peace with the simplest of fare.
Six children and my grandfather, Mother and Father and anyone who happened to need a place to stay or a free meal, was welcomed. There was always plenty of food, and children could give up their bed and sleep on the floor or in the tent or anywhere else or over to Aunt Annies: Her two daughters lived with us after Uncle Harry's death - but they always slept at home, across the street, but they had all their meals with us, as Aunt Annie had to work. If my Mother felt the pressure she never showed it. Everyone was welcome to share what ever we had, and everyone knew they were welcome.
Things were very simple -- if we went for a ride in the buggy as many as could crowd in went along -- if in the wagon -- a wagon box with as many as four spring seats were added and along went everyone. Some times we went in the buckboard if only a few of us were going.
The house was thoroughly cleaned every spring: the furniture was all moved outside. The carpets were pulled up and put on the line to be beaten. The dust filled the air. New carpeting was always in mind and all clothing was saved for the rugs. This clothing was cut into strips and sewn at the "Rag-bee". All the neighbors helped and a great deal of fun was had when they all joined in to sew the rags and wind them into big balls for the weaver. The strips of carpeting had to be sewn together after they were woven and stretched over fresh straw to pad them and make them wear better. The ceilings and walls were given a fresh coat of white wash, made from lime and water or covered with wall paper with big roses for a border. The furniture was given another coat of varnish and everything replaced. The be ticks were filled with fresh straw and with a feather tick on top one had to climb in with a chair. Such luxury!
All the kids had home made quilts and every scrap was saved when sewing to make the precious quilts. Men's overalls were saved to cover camp quilts the men folks used when they went "after wood" or hunting for deer in the fall. How we would laugh when we found ourselves all on one side of the bed or all piled in the middle of the bed in the morning. Making the bed was a real art. Smoothing the straw tick then the feather bed, then the sheets, carefully made from flour or sugar sacks--then these precious quilts.
The washing was done outside. A fire was built and a big round black tub was put on to heat the water. The white clothes were washed first--all scrubbed on the wash board then put in the tub and boiled then scrubbed again. Then rinsed in clear water then blued in the last rinse--nearly everything had to be starched--dresses, petticoats with ruffles and all the shirts had cuffs and collars starched. The colored clothes came next and the lines stretched all around the yard. The ironing came next and an early start on Tuesday was necessary. The old irons were black and heated on the cook stove. The new style irons had a removable handle and mother had three of each kind. When my father brought home a gasoline iron that was real progress. I was about ten years old at that time.
We had a wood stove -- two fire places and kerosene lamps -- "Coal Oil" we called them. The lamp chimney had to be washed and shined and the wicks trimmed just so, so we could get a brighter light -- as we studied around the dining room table at night. When my father brought home a gasoline lamp with a pretty shade and a bright light we were in seventh heaven.
We had to take the "coal oil" can to the store to buy the kerosene and they usually put a potato on the spout to keep it from spilling out. That was a job I really hated, because I got that smelly coal oil on my shoes. I remember Mother giving me $10.00 and telling me not to spend it all for shoes. I didn't I spent $9.90. I had a whole dime left and a fancy pair of button shoes!
The door yards had to be swept clean every day and the dirt was sprinkled generously to make it hard and keep it from getting in the house.
The table wear had black handles and steel blades that discolored easily. We had to polish it in the sand of the irrigation ditch. Also, that ditch served to fill the barrel that Mother kept wood ashes in -- probably to soften the wash water. A rain barrel was kept on the north side of the house to catch the water that ran off the roof. It was soft and was good for washing our hair.
The wood stove served another purpose also -- we took the soot from the stove lids to shine our shoes on Saturday.
Everyone had to bathe on Saturday and we started with the youngest. Wilma may look a little cleaner than the rest of us as she got the first bath then each in turn had a little hot water added from the reservoir at the back of the stove. No one was allowed to miss that Saturday bath. Small wonder we all bathed in the same water. It had to be carried one half block from the ditch that ran down the street on either side of the block.
"Old Cherry" had a place in the house at night and the boys really resented having to bring it (the slop jar) in for the family to use as the old rock toilet was half a block away from the house and too far for a child to go in the dark. The more modern wooden toilet was built in later years and the Montgomery Ward or Sears catalogues were used for toilet paper. We certainly never knew the luxury of pink toilet paper. Ashes were used to keep the place smelling "nice" and it had to be scrubbed too often.
We had a big swing on the locust trees in the front yard where the boys gave us a boost with a rope, and a bigger swing in the old bell flower apple tree in the orchard. A nice cool place to play was in the vineyard where the grass grew smooth and cool and we could play to our hearts content.
The folks made a big barrel of "pickled grapes" every year. The big black California grapes were picked, washed, and cleaned and put in the barrels. Not a bee sting could be left on a grape. Then when the barrels were full of grapes -- a mixture of molasses and water was poured over all and a lid was put on and a rock placed on top to hold the grapes down under the liquid. The was removed about Thanksgiving time and the pickled grapes were ready. They were taken out of the barrel and washed and the taste was heavenly. I still get hungry for the grapes, but no one makes them anymore. We always had bins of apples, sacks of dried peaches, apples, apricots, and raisins and sacks of pine nuts and all the goodies so all the neighborhood kids came to our house.
Mama would cook chicken dinners for us at any time, and we always had pop corn and popcorn balls, molasses candy and taffy pulls.
They also raised pigs for butchering and all kinds of vegetables and fruit. Mother bottled fruit by the 1000 jars. We had squash, sweet potatoes, potatoes, carrots, onions and all kinds of pickles and fresh milk and butter. We mad six loaves of bread every other day and we had hot biscuits for breakfast every morning.
The milk was set in big tin pans and put in the cooler. The cooler was a wooden frame with slot shelves covered with screen wire and it had a metal box on top which covered the entire cooler. The top of which was in water and the sides were kept constantly wet and cool by the water dripping down on the sides (capillary action). The cream raised and was skimmed into a large cream jar. When it was full and slightly sour it was churned in an old wooden churn and it was washed and salted and worked until not a drop of moisture remained. The the butter was molded in a round mold with a flower on top. I always liked the square mold better because I thought it was newer, but as I think of it now the round mold was lovely and the butter tasted so fresh and good.
We all sat around the fireplace in the evening burning our shins and freezing our backs while popping corn and listening to Mother read to us, recite poetry or entertain us with the "Denver Post." We had a healthy, happy childhood -- running to school and back twice a day -- a mile each way -- eight long Utah blocks. We ran all the way. Jogging in those days was not fashionable but just necessary. Our lunch was always ready and we were ready for it.
We celebrated the 24th of July in high style. It was the most important holiday of the year. Everyone of us girls had a new white embroidered voile dress and a straw hat with cherries of little flowers and a long ribbon down the back. We had a big celebration in the tabernacle3 yard under the big trees. We ran races for a sack of candy and maybe had a dime to spend for anything we wanted. A barrel of lemonade was near the tabernacle gate and a tin dipper tied on a string and everyone drank form the same dipper. Germs hadn't been heard of in those days so the same glass was used for each row when the sacrament was passed in church.
When a new baby came to the home, all the children were sent away for the night to Grandma's or Aunties or somewhere a good neighbor would take us in. It was dressed in a belly band, a shirt, a didy, a pinning blanket, a petticoat and a long dress at which was very elaborate for blessing at the church. At three months the baby was shortened and had to have a new layette. Both boys and girls were dressed in dresses until a couple of years old. The little boys had short pants added and wore them until about 10 or 12 years old. Then he finally got to wear long pants. Babies were nursed in those days until a year and a half or 2 years old. Then it would be weaned and another baby was on the way.
Catnip, yarrow, spearmint and tansy were gathered, tied in bunches for winter use and when we were sick. These things were steeped in some way and we would have to soak our feet. Catnip tea was given to the baby for stomach ached. Mustard plasters, onion juice and honey, molasses and sulphur where home remedies used for all sorts of ailments. Mother's mixture of Epsom salts, lemon juice and cream of tartar thinned our blood every spring. I want to pay a little tribute to my parents. They were both completely unselfish, willing to share all they had with everyone -- family -- friends -- or any one in need.
My Mother -- Rachel Cunningham was born January 8, 1879 in St. George, Utah to William Joseph Cunningham and Rachel Sanders. She was the oldest of three children who lived; for several died in infancy. A sister Annie Dorothy and a brother William Joseph (Uncle Bill). Their mother passed away when Rachel was 13 years of age. Annie was 8 years and Bill was 2 years old. From then on my mother was mother to the two younger children. She took complete charge of the house and garden for her father. She married Angus M. Cannon on November 17, 1891 in St. George, Utah. The ceremony was performed in the home of David H. and Wilhelmina Cannon. She lived a wonderful life -- generous and true to the end. She died August 7, 1941 at the age of 64 in Salt Lake City.
My father Angus M. Cannon was born May 12, 1873 to David H. and Wilhelmina Mousley Cannon in St. George, Utah. He worked at farming, mining, freight, trapping for the U.S. Government, driving a stage to Modena, then the closest point of the rail road. He had lost the sight in one eye in a mining accident when a piece of steel pier pierced the pupil of his eye. He did not loose the eye, but lost the sight in it. He worked at anything available, often having to cook his own meals over a camp fire for months at a time. He was always pleasant and never complained and he welcomed all as freely as my mother did. Every one who cam visiting left with something from the garden. A bucket of vegetables, grapes, milk, eggs, or butter -- anything they could use and we had. Such generosity does not exist today. A helping hand for anyone who needed help. I feel proud to think I had such fine parents helping all they knew and never expecting anything in return. What a wonderful way to live. He died August 5, 1947 in Salt Lake City.