Yep, that’s what we used to do as kids back on the farm. When our big old 50 gallon wooden rain barrel got emptied down close to the bottom, a great resounding echo would come back as we used our deep and resonating voices. Ask any old-timer from the “Olden Days” about their rain barrel and you’ll get similar stories.
When talking with my older sister Theresa, she reminded me about the “Playmate” song we used to sing as kids. Let’s see, it went like this ... Playmate — Come out and play with me — bring your dollies three — climb up my apple tree. Shout down my rain barrel — slide down our cellar door. And we’ll be jolly friends forever more!
What a jolly song!
Most farm homes back in my day had a big rain barrel out behind their house to catch that gloriously soft H2O from the heavens. After a good rain, that barrel would be overflowing. There were no harsh chemicals or minerals that seemed to be in water that came from the hand-dug wells on most farms. Most wells weren’t too deep — perhaps 15 or 20 feet and about 4 feet across, lined with bricks and a cast iron pump on top with a long handle. Underground cisterns to catch rainwater were also few and far between.
For some reason, most water was hard and had to be “broken” with Lewis Lye on wash day, when it was heated with wood in a large oblong metal boiler on the kitchen range. The “scum” would be dipped off before the water was transferred to the gasoline-powered Maytag washer, which sat in the kitchen during the winter and on the front porch in the summer. What a delight to have plenty of great soft water for the Monday family wash.
Soft water also was great for the Saturday night bath. A person seemed to be squeaky clean after washing their body with Ivory soap, which was 99 and 44/100 percent pure! (As the Proctor and Gamble ads said, “Ivory Soap ... so pure that it floats.” And it did). Shampoo was almost unheard of back in the Olden Days so Ivory soap and fresh, soft rainwater did the job. We could all march into Church on Sunday morning in our best clothes with bright and shining faces, well-combed hair and our Sunday smile.
Most farm houses didn’t have eave troughs attached to their roofs. So there was no down-spout to carry rainwater to the barrel. Instead, a long board about 12 inches wide and 10 feet long was run at an angle right into the barrel. This filled it quickly during a good rain, and many times we would dip extra buckets of water out during the rain for reserve.
Our other source for soft water was a spring well up on the Bill Croat farm. But it was a half mile away and this called for a trip with a couple 5-gallon milk cans to fill at the pump. Water from the rain barrel was far more convenient. Trips to Croat’s well during dry spells and in the winter were a regular occurrence.
When our rain barrel would get quite low on water during the hot summer months, little “squigglers” of some sort would start swimming around. It was then time to dump everything out, wash out the barrel, let it dry and be ready for the next rainy day.
Our big wooden “Cellar Door” mentioned on the famous jingle was just a few steps away from our rain barrel. How good it felt to stretch out on that door during a warm spring day and soak up the sun. Our large black iron kettle used to make laundry soap at about that same time of year was also close by. A dozen or more small metal chicken coops where mother hens kept their individual broods of chicks was further out close to our grove of plum trees. The backyard on our farm always was a busy place.
Olden Days appears on Wednesday. Contact the author at mcneer@pcpartner.net.