Memories of Dawn By Children and Grandchildren LYNNE: Share your favorite memories of Mom/Grandma here. Email them to Mom tells a story of the door-to-door vacuum salesman who wanted to demonstrate how great his vacuum was by hitting Mom's couch cushion, expecting a dust cloud to come billowing up, then he would vacuum the couch and demonstrate again. The problem (for him) - no dust came up when he hit the couch, as Mom vacuumed her furniture every week.   When I was young, housework was far different and more time-consuming and difficult than it is now. I remember other cleaning rituals that Mom had when I was a child, such as using white liquid Jubilee on the appliances weekly; and scrubbing the linoleum floors on her hands and knees using an old folded bath mat, a butter knife for scraping, Ajax, a scrub brush, a rag and a pan of water. Then she would spread on liquid wax for a shiny floor. She would hand-wash clothes in the kitchen sink, as well as wash combs and brushes with soap and water in the kitchen sink. Prior to ironing clothes, Mom would use a 7-Up bottle with a sprinkler cork in the top to sprinkle the clothes with water and then roll them up and store them in plastic in a basket until she was ready to iron them. Mom has a story about her dear friends, Ann Wing and Elsie Rockwood, when they were young mothers. Ann and Elsie were talking about a friend of theirs who used a butter knife to clean the gunk around the kitchen sink, saying something like, "Whoever heard of anyone doing that?" Mom told them, "I do that." Mom hung clothes out on the clothesline in the summer on the folding wooden clothes hanger in the winter (before having a dryer). She polished our furniture with wax, rag and elbow grease. Defrosting the refrigerator freezer was a lengthy and difficult job. Teflon pans weren't invented until I was in junior high school, so cleaning the kitchen pans was a b....ear. I hated it because food stuck so badly. Having a nice, clean home was very important to Mom and has always been a big part of her life. Having a nice yard has always been very important to Mom, and her hard work outside has also been a big part of her life. When we were young, I remember that Mom used to dig the dandelion weeds out of the lawn and flowerbeds with a butter knife and bucket, shaking off the excess dirt before putting them in the bucket. She would mow the grass with a push lawnmower and then rake the grass up and put it in a pile to throw away, and she would hand-raked the fall leaves.   I remember Mom and Dad having our playground filled up with fresh sand (little pink house) every spring/summer. That sand-filled play area provided countless hours of enjoyment over the years when I was a child. Mom had a Singer sewing machine in her bedroom when we were young, and she managed to do a great deal of sewing for us girls (and sometimes shirts for David, Jim and Dad) to get ready for school and for Christmas and Easter dresses.   LANA:  When we lived in the pink house, Mom LOVED to listen to Broadway soundtracks, like South Pacific. So while she was cleaning or cooking, I remember Lynne and I singing along or acting out or dancing the way we imagined the actors would have done. This was when I was around 10 and younger. When my first husband and I moved to Tuba City, Arizona, Mom had already been selling Avon on the reservation for a while. (At some point, I started selling Avon as well.) When her shipment would arrive, there would be boxes and boxes on her bed, and I enjoyed helping her put the orders together and in bags to be personally delivered to the women. She would deliver to women in their homes, where they worked (for example, the hospital), or in the middle of nowhere to their hogan (the traditional Navajo home, with 6 or 8 sides and made of logs, brush and mud). The Navajo and Hopi women really enjoyed her warm and open personality. Many of these women had no phones, so Mom might drive quite a ways into the reservation, just to find that the woman was not home or had no money ("I can pay you a week from Friday") because they just bought a new truck or washing machine. Mom was working when I was a young teenager and we lived in Indian Hills. Even though she had worked a full day and we were always helping, she would come home to many responsibilities. It seemed like the washing machine and dryer were going all the time, into the night. Many evenings when the younger kids were in bed, she would be sewing dresses or shirts in the utility room, and I would sit on top of the washer. It was about the only time I could really talk to her because she was a captive audience. One time stands out to me: I had written a short story for English called, "That Others May Know." It was very tragic and unusual. I believe it had something to do with a young girl and the end of the world. I was very proud of it. After I finished reading it to her from atop my perch on the warm dryer, I will never forget Mom's response, because it was so unexpected. Something like, "It's very morbid." Actually, I think it was more like, "Why do you have to write such morbid things?" because I remember feeling like a typical teenager-completely misunderstood. When I was in third grade, Mom and Dad surprised our family with a piano. I know they both sacrificed for our lessons. She always encouraged me in my music, even when I wanted to quit taking lessons, and made me feel like everything I did musically was extraordinary. I think part of it was because she had played the piano as a teen and wished she had continued to practice and improve to her satisfaction. Somewhere there is a large box of yellowing piano music older than me that I used to play as a teenager when we lived in Indian Hills. Songs by Cole Porter, Irving Berlin and the like, reflected a romantic-minded young woman with whom I connected in a way unique to us at the time. Although I cannot remember the circumstances, I remember that it was about 15 years ago during a visit to St. George. Mom said to me, "If you hadn't been born my daughter, I would still want to have you as my friend." It meant a great deal to me. Your favorite memories could be right here. Email them to