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24 September 2014
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You are in: Lincolnshire » Inside Lives

Margaret Graham.

Bath time

Margaret has vivid memories of Friday nights and the dreaded tin bath. Share her ordeal of the rigorous washing process, icy draughts and the pleasures to follow >>




"The fire was allowed to stay low-thank goodness, have you ever experienced hot tin on bare flesh?"

Born in the forties, Margaret lives in Saxilby and is very much involved in charity work across the county. She enjoys all handicrafts, especially soft furnishings, reading and gardening.


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TExt. Margaret's story

My story is about bath time - before the days of hot running water and radiators!

I enjoyed Inside Lives because noone knew a thing at the start, but by the end we were a team!

On Friday nights Mum would have the water warming up in the copper, you should have seen it, just the tiniest opening in the front for the sticks and coal to heat up gallons of water.

As soon as the tea pots were cleared away in it cameÂ…Â…a long tin bath.

The fire was allowed to stay low-thank goodness, have you ever experienced hot tin on bare flesh?

Once in the bath you were soaped all over, no bubbles in our house, just scummy lifeboy suds. The bit I always dreaded was the jug of water tipped from behind, and followed by the derbac shampoo, which , Mum said, would keep my hair clear of lice. You had no mistake what was to follow-the head massage!( I`m not kidding when I say it was second to neck dislocation.)

The fire flickered and the grandfather clock ticked, it would have been lovely, had you not been expecting the final jug of rinse water. When the scullery door opened, the Icelandic draught hit every wet part - did we shiver!

After being hauled out and dried, on went the lovely pyjamas warmed on the guard top. And then an exact measure of that physic-a horrible medicine to keep you regular all through the week!

We'd sit on the brass box that held the logs, sipping our warm milk and lulled by the clock's ticks, staring at the flickering fire.

Our wireless was tuned in and waiting for the Archers - half an hour's magic before bed.


by Margaret Graham



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