My first day.
My first day with the Ard’s was a whole new world. Sister Ard had a routine for these “helper girls” of hers. First, you must sign her book. She has an old spiral bound notebook that all girls must write their name, local phone, home phone and address in. Next, she gives the “tour.” The front room, the hall, kitchen, dining room, bathrooms, and three bedrooms on the main floor.
In the kitchen she shows me that in the cupboard next to the sink, she keeps strips of masking tape inside. She tells me I need to write my name on a piece of tape for the glass I’ll be using while I am there. And to please put it back in the cupboard for the next time I come. Honestly, I’m thinking, “there’s not gonna be next time, lady.” I am pretty hopeful at this point though; a job, you know. Across the kitchen she shows me where her “meds” are. “If you hear me fall, you run and get a FULL glass of water and my pills and bring them to me.” Okay, I’m thinking, do you fall a lot? Of course the whole time I worked there, she never fell once. She was very kind, in her own way, but terribly bossy.
She proceeded to show me the house and exactly how she likes things done, “If I pay you, then you need to do things the way I like them done.” Okay, you’ve got a point. She had a weekly schedule that had to be followed. The furniture and curtains had to be vacuumed weekly. The floors along the wall, weekly. But the center of the carpets, daily. The kitchen floor done once to twice a week, sweep one direction – wash the other. The Bathrooms, once to twice as well. The sheets changed weekly, the house dusted at least once a week. The laundry done daily, windows done weekly or whenever needed. As well as any other jobs around the house, and there were many. You know how Martha Stewart says, it’s a good thing? Well Sister Ard said, “Isn’t that a good idea?” All the time. Like the tape on the glass was followed by, “Isn’t that good idea?”
First item of business; the bathroom. This is a classic 70’s style bathroom. It was gold and yellow, with plastic three dimensional butterflies above the toilet. Wallpaper. The textured, shiny kind. The kind that you want to touch, but then again – don’t want to touch. Two sinks with plastic soap pumps and a tissue box cover to match. There were soft furry rugs and a toilet seat cover, gold. What else would it be? (“gold” is code for ugly seventies yellow) And a gold shower curtain, which of course, when I went to open it, there was a note. “Why, what’s this? Another note?” It said, “Make sure you pull the shower curtain open by the rings, not the curtain. This way it will last longer.” O-kay. Will do.
Sister Ard didn’t believe in mops. So you have to sweep one direction, then scrub on your hands and knees the other. “This way if you have missed something, you’re sure to get it going the other way.”
She had many allergies and ailments. So her cleaning supplies were very particular. If you’ve never heard of “Quick and Brite,” let me introduce you. “Quick'n Brite was first formulated over 46 years ago and was developed to tackle all of your cleaning needs. It is a biodegradable cleaner that is environmentally safe, yet strong enough for the worst stains and messes.” It’s an infomercial type product that Sister Ard swears by. You can use this for everything, according to her. You melt it, mixing it into different ratios for different surfaces. Or you can use it right out of the tub, for “tough” messes. I tell you this, because this would become something I used several times a week for six months. To clean the floors, you had to wring out a soaking (water only) dish towel size rag onto the floor. Then put the full strength Q and B on, then scrub with a scrub brush. Wring out the towel into the bucket and wipe off the Q and B. Now rinse, and then wipe dry with a clean cloth. This was my regular routine for cleaning floors at Sister Ard’s house.
In the midst of that day, she asked me to guess her age. Apparently people were always telling her she looked younger than she was. Wearing her pink polyester pants and pink floral top, curler done hair, and wooden clog shoes (for support) – I had no idea. I thought she looked pretty old to me, I had just turned 19. So, thinking I would guess “down” a bit, I said, 79. I thought she must be around 82 or so, but thought I’d stick with the seventies to amuse her. “I’m 59,” she said. “But I haven’t been feeling myself lately.” Oops. Note to self, never fall for that again. Never try to guess a persons age.
I think I vacuumed that day as well, and did a little dusting. As I was getting ready to leave, she tried to pay me. “Oh, no.” I said, “I don’t want to take your money, think of it as service.” But she kept insisting, telling me that she always pays her Helper Girls. “I want them to come back.” (“That is, if they’re not girls from the South,” she said, “They’re fat and lazy.”) Keep in mind that minimum wage was 4.25 at the time. She tells me to hold out my hand, goes to a VERY cluttered cupboard and pulls out an envelope, and proceeds to count out my payment. For two and half hours I got 5.00. Yes, that’s right, two dollars an hour. Followed by, “It’s easy to keep track of what I owe you when I pay two dollars an hour. 50 cents for every 15 minutes. Isn’t that a good idea? And really, two dollars an hour isn’t bad, it’s under the table you know.”
My first day with the Ard’s was a whole new world. Sister Ard had a routine for these “helper girls” of hers. First, you must sign her book. She has an old spiral bound notebook that all girls must write their name, local phone, home phone and address in. Next, she gives the “tour.” The front room, the hall, kitchen, dining room, bathrooms, and three bedrooms on the main floor.
In the kitchen she shows me that in the cupboard next to the sink, she keeps strips of masking tape inside. She tells me I need to write my name on a piece of tape for the glass I’ll be using while I am there. And to please put it back in the cupboard for the next time I come. Honestly, I’m thinking, “there’s not gonna be next time, lady.” I am pretty hopeful at this point though; a job, you know. Across the kitchen she shows me where her “meds” are. “If you hear me fall, you run and get a FULL glass of water and my pills and bring them to me.” Okay, I’m thinking, do you fall a lot? Of course the whole time I worked there, she never fell once. She was very kind, in her own way, but terribly bossy.
She proceeded to show me the house and exactly how she likes things done, “If I pay you, then you need to do things the way I like them done.” Okay, you’ve got a point. She had a weekly schedule that had to be followed. The furniture and curtains had to be vacuumed weekly. The floors along the wall, weekly. But the center of the carpets, daily. The kitchen floor done once to twice a week, sweep one direction – wash the other. The Bathrooms, once to twice as well. The sheets changed weekly, the house dusted at least once a week. The laundry done daily, windows done weekly or whenever needed. As well as any other jobs around the house, and there were many. You know how Martha Stewart says, it’s a good thing? Well Sister Ard said, “Isn’t that a good idea?” All the time. Like the tape on the glass was followed by, “Isn’t that good idea?”
First item of business; the bathroom. This is a classic 70’s style bathroom. It was gold and yellow, with plastic three dimensional butterflies above the toilet. Wallpaper. The textured, shiny kind. The kind that you want to touch, but then again – don’t want to touch. Two sinks with plastic soap pumps and a tissue box cover to match. There were soft furry rugs and a toilet seat cover, gold. What else would it be? (“gold” is code for ugly seventies yellow) And a gold shower curtain, which of course, when I went to open it, there was a note. “Why, what’s this? Another note?” It said, “Make sure you pull the shower curtain open by the rings, not the curtain. This way it will last longer.” O-kay. Will do.
Sister Ard didn’t believe in mops. So you have to sweep one direction, then scrub on your hands and knees the other. “This way if you have missed something, you’re sure to get it going the other way.”
She had many allergies and ailments. So her cleaning supplies were very particular. If you’ve never heard of “Quick and Brite,” let me introduce you. “Quick'n Brite was first formulated over 46 years ago and was developed to tackle all of your cleaning needs. It is a biodegradable cleaner that is environmentally safe, yet strong enough for the worst stains and messes.” It’s an infomercial type product that Sister Ard swears by. You can use this for everything, according to her. You melt it, mixing it into different ratios for different surfaces. Or you can use it right out of the tub, for “tough” messes. I tell you this, because this would become something I used several times a week for six months. To clean the floors, you had to wring out a soaking (water only) dish towel size rag onto the floor. Then put the full strength Q and B on, then scrub with a scrub brush. Wring out the towel into the bucket and wipe off the Q and B. Now rinse, and then wipe dry with a clean cloth. This was my regular routine for cleaning floors at Sister Ard’s house.
In the midst of that day, she asked me to guess her age. Apparently people were always telling her she looked younger than she was. Wearing her pink polyester pants and pink floral top, curler done hair, and wooden clog shoes (for support) – I had no idea. I thought she looked pretty old to me, I had just turned 19. So, thinking I would guess “down” a bit, I said, 79. I thought she must be around 82 or so, but thought I’d stick with the seventies to amuse her. “I’m 59,” she said. “But I haven’t been feeling myself lately.” Oops. Note to self, never fall for that again. Never try to guess a persons age.
I think I vacuumed that day as well, and did a little dusting. As I was getting ready to leave, she tried to pay me. “Oh, no.” I said, “I don’t want to take your money, think of it as service.” But she kept insisting, telling me that she always pays her Helper Girls. “I want them to come back.” (“That is, if they’re not girls from the South,” she said, “They’re fat and lazy.”) Keep in mind that minimum wage was 4.25 at the time. She tells me to hold out my hand, goes to a VERY cluttered cupboard and pulls out an envelope, and proceeds to count out my payment. For two and half hours I got 5.00. Yes, that’s right, two dollars an hour. Followed by, “It’s easy to keep track of what I owe you when I pay two dollars an hour. 50 cents for every 15 minutes. Isn’t that a good idea? And really, two dollars an hour isn’t bad, it’s under the table you know.”
2 comments:
I am thoroughly entertained! Thank you for the cleaning suggestions and never to guess an old ladies age, might come in handy soon, since I still think of myself as 19!
I cleaned a few houses when I was 13-15 years old. Never had anyone so persnickity as your lady. Too funny that you guessed her age 20 years too high!! I hate that question. You just know you are going to get it wrong.
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