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Does anyone remember the old wash house on Bunbury street/Muskham street? I think it was joined somehow to Portland baths. I can just remember going past their and seeing these women standing in the doorway with their pinny's on, turbans on their heads and their arms folded gossiping while waiting for the washing to be done in some giant? wash tubs. As I remember it the washing was whiter than white and it carried a really wash day smell if you know what I mean.

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I remember vividly, particularly the turbans, tied at the front.

I remember big racks for drying sheets, and lots of steam.

A contrast to the baths which were bloody freezing.

I remember walking back to school on a cold day after swimming.

Glowing and stinking of bleach!

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As a littleun, I recall Mum getting her dolly tub out and the "ponch" and doing the Monday morning wash. Later it was a laundramat on St Anns Road somewhere near Union Road..

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I used to live opposite in Brussels Terrace. the building is still there but part of the leisure centre.

There was a large room where the children could wait for their parents as they were not allowed in the wash house, it was more of a meeting house as well whilst they did the washing, I can rememebr one woman had a serious arm injury on the drying racks.

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I can't remember having gone to the wash house myself, but I can remember when I were a nipper my granny would put me in the copper after the washing was done to give me a bath, one day she left the gas switched on to the copper and with a shriek she shouted to my grandfather "Bloody hell Fred I've boiled our Roger" Ah well all part of growing up in the meadows in the 50s I suppose.

Roger

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I remember all of the above very well. We lived just off Arkwright St & mum used to take the washing there in the winter I think? We as kids were always fascinated by the place as it was off limits as you say.

I remember once having to go in there to pick something up & it was very exciting....................well we didn't get out much did we???

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  • 5 weeks later...

We had our own copper tub, and it was copper to. We had a length of rubber gas hose and a gas ring that went under the tub. Me mam would light it and then slide it underneath. The there was the dolly-peg, for moving everthing around once the water was hot, and a mangle for squeezing out the water before hanging out. My sister still holds it against me for putting her arm through the mangle once.

I remember Portland Baths though, vile place. Nearly drowned there after our PT teacher decided it was time we all learnt how to swim, which consisted of throwing us in the deepend one at a time. Those who got out could swim, those who didn't couldn't.

Alison

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Hey Alison

You must have had the same B****y swimming teacher ,exactly the same thing happened to me, made to jump straight in,the water took my breath & I've had a fear of water ever since,I can swim a bit but I am definately not a water baby. I sometimes wonder what sort of evil sadistic gits those teachers were,if anyone had tried that with my kids I would have given them what for girlvboy

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i remember mondays as being wash day my mum bent over the dollytub twisting the dolly peg to get the washing clean whites went in first then all the others. stew and rice pudding for dinner it was the easiest , just put them in the oven whilst she got on with the washing , i also remember newspaper on the table while the table cloth was being washed [ im sure we had more than one tho]

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Hi Zacsmum, laughed at the newspaper on the table. All these little stories are wonderful and we should put a book together about growing up in the 50' and 60's.

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Hi Zacsmum,

we had a green plastic, cloth-backed, tablecover. With six kids you needed something that could be wiped clean easy.

Our front room and kitchen had a hot-water tank on one side of the coal fire and an oven on the other. The whole thing was done up with kitchen black when we had visitors.

Me Mam had these big thin aluminium pans, one of which would just fit in the fireside oven. She would pop in an onion, carrots, taters, swede, a bit of turnip and a rabbit into the pan. Stick it in the oven, and a few hours later add a bit of cornflower and gravy browning and that was dinner for eight. The smell after a few hours would have all us kids sitting around the kitchen table waiting.

Hugs Alison

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  • 1 year later...

Some one was talking to me the other day about "kitchen black" is that what we used to call "black lead"? I think it's commercial name was "Zebo" is this right?

Rog

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Thanks for that Rob,

Talking of wash days of old, Ican remember when I were a nipper one of the old birds down our yard got one of her threpenney bits stuck in one of them old fashioned mangles, she were mangling away gossiping when the rollers must have caught her pinny and in it went, boy did she squeek

Rog

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Oh go on then

Me mam had a ponch , a copper hopper, a mangle and one of those up over your head hanging down drying thingies ,. And that was in the 90s ..............................LOL

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I can remember an incident in the wash house possibly mid sixties, possibly the same one as Bryceclare remembers. A woman had her arm badly mangled or ripped off.

We used to be taught swimming at Portland baths by a little bloke called Mr Brooks.

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After the manual cast iron mangles with the tin wash bath under them I think Hotpoint bought a single tub washing machine out with a separate mangle that could be fitted to the top right hand side of the machine via a small drive shaft, you could pull the washing out of the tub with the tong's (supplied) and feed the wet clothes into the mangle which by this time was going round at a rate of knots, the drained water would fall back in the washer tub and the wrung out clothes could be deposited in the tin bath placed at the back of the machine, if I remember right this mangle attachment was bloody heavy as me mother used to say,

(must get out more, must get a life, must get out more)

Rog

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Yup , my mum had one of those too Rog. And later an upright "Twin tub" that used to dance around the kitchen on 'spin cycle' ..

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  • 7 years later...

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