Little Beds of Flowers, Little Cans of Paint

From Time to Thyme

By Paula Dunn

I’ve had the phrase, “spring cleaning,” rattling around in my head ever since I mentioned it in a column a couple of weeks ago.

Our attitudes toward that practice sure have  changed over the years.

These days we tend to take a rather casual approach to spring cleaning. Thanks to devices like power mops and vacuum cleaners, and the availability of entire aisles of cleaning products in local stores, there’s really no need to wait for spring to clean our homes. We can do that pretty much year-round.

In the years prior to World War II, however, spring cleaning was just that. It was a Big Deal (or maybe a Big Ordeal, if you were the person tasked with it) that people suffered through annually at the end of winter.

Homes had to be cleaned from top to bottom then by necessity. Buildings heated by coal, wood or oil that had been sealed up all winter were covered in soot and ash by the time spring arrived. All that dirt and grime had to be removed.

Warm weather helped by allowing windows to be opened so that fresh air and sunlight could come in, and dust and stale air could flow out.

All this was, of course, considered women’s work. In 1909, the Hamilton County Ledger described spring cleaning as “the time that the head of the house crawls into his hole and the madam becomes IT.”

The article goes on to paint a picture of the (ahem) poor, suffering husband who comes home to “alleged meals” during this frenzy of cleanliness. It warned that, if a man wasn’t careful, he might slide on a “husk of soap on the front step” and go tumbling, or grab a seat at the kitchen table, only to find himself sitting in a pan of warm soap suds.

(Hmm. Maybe he could have avoided those hazards by pitching in to help?) 

Timely housecleaning hints often appeared in the newspapers. The following examples are from the April 30, 1937 Sheridan News:

A little bit of kerosene and water, “rubbed on with a cloth half wrung,” then dried with newspaper and polished with a soft cloth would clean windows.

Grease could be removed from wallpaper with a piece of blotting paper and a hot iron.

 White spots on furniture could be erased by “wetting a piece of flannel with turpentine and rubbing the spot hard.”

(I’m not vouching for the effectiveness, or safety, of any of those tips!)

Spring cleaning wasn’t confined to individual homes, though. Entire communities considered it a matter of public health and safety, and civic pride.

In 1916, Noblesville’s mayor, Dr. E. C. Loehr issued a proclamation designating April 24th to April 29th “THE CLEAN UP AND PAINT UP WEEK.”

During “Clean Up and Paint Up Week “ residents were asked to clean up their homes AND yards to minimize the risk of fires, to paint whatever needed painting, to destroy places where mosquitoes and flies could breed, and to get rid of weeds.

They were also requested to clean up any vacant lots in their neighborhood. (“Nothing gives a stranger a better impression of our City than well kept lawns, beautiful flowers, clean alleys and streets.”)

The mayor’s  proclamation ends:

“Little beds of flowers, 

Little cans of paint

Make homes attractive

Out of them that ain’t.”

Poor English, but a worthy sentiment. 

Note: The Blatchley Nature Study Club is holding free wildflower walks at the club sanctuary again this year. The first walk will be this Saturday, April 11 from 1:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. The second, to catch later-blooming wildflowers, is April 25, also from 1:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m.

The sanctuary is on Boulder Drive, on the north side of White River, a little west of Potter’s Bridge.

Paula Dunn’s From Time to Thyme column appears on Wednesdays in The Times. Contact her at younggardenerfriend@gmail.com