Aunt Bill Rambles — Aprons
Today I jest thought I’d talk to you’uns about all the many uses of my aprons. Law me!! I don’t feel like I’ve got all my clothes on without my apron. Hit shore does protect my dress while I’m a-cookin’ or doing my other work.
When I’m in the garden and see I can git me a mess of beans or whatever else is ready – Y, I jest pick up the bottom of my apron and gather the stuff to take to the house. Then we can set on the front porch and string them beans and have them ready to cook in the morning. I like to put on whatever I’m gonna have fer dinner when I cook breakfast and while the old black cook stove is hot. And another thang — if’n I’m at the barn or chicken house and see that old settin’ hen has hatched off her babies I can put them in my apron and bring them to the chicken coop — that old mother hen follers jest a-fussin’.
When I wuz growin’ up our house set way back off’n the road and my ma could see somebody a-comin’ down that long driveway and she’d snatch off her apron, do some quick dustin’ and then put on a fresh apron afore they could git in the house.
A few years ago I visited a new neighbor what had moved in our community and we set down in her cook room fer she wuz a-cookin’ dinner. Her little boy had sight of cold and his nose wuz a-runnin’ bad and she said to him, “Joe come here and blow yore nose — if there’s anythang I can’t stand hit’s nass-ness.” Y she wuz a cookin’ and had that young’un blow his nose on her apron. Now if that ain’t nastiness, I don’t know what is.
I’ve used my aprons lots of times to sceer off a hawk when he was after some of my young chickens. I can wave that apron and holler at him and he’ll leave.
Now a feed sack makes a nice big apron and I allus want to make my work aprons out of a dark color fer they won’t show dirt nigh as bad as white ‘uns will. I use the white sacks to make my Sunday aprons — or the ones I wear when company is around. They shore do do up pretty. You don’t know what do up means? Well, hit means to wash, starch and arn.
A body can tie a apron around a little boys shoulders and he’ll turn into Super Man and then you can fold the apron up in a way and a little girl can make-belief and call hit her doll. Hit comes in handy, too, to wipe a little skint knee or sumpin lack that.
Well, I ain’t told you nigh all I could about the apron, but Billie fusses if I talk too long. Hit’s jest the way hit it is with country living.