Nothing was as exciting as coming to grandma's and finding she was doing laundry. We'd come into her house, and you could immediately smell that wet, soapy, heavy smell of hot water and clean clothes. My brother and I would race into the "back room" where her wringer washer was kept, tumbling over each other to each get in there first, only to be sharply and loundly told, "get out of here, you'll get caught in the wringer." It was enough of a warning for our arms to suddenly be sucked to our sides, in fear that the dread wringer would somehow reach down and grab a loosely guarded apendage, ripping us to shreads! Of course, that never happened. I know if you've never been around a wringer washer, you're wondering what made wash day so special. Well, the wash tubs, of course! After the laundry was washed, the water was "let out" by way of a rubber hose, running into a wash tub. That tub of water was dumped in the yard, and the washer was filled with clean, hot water, to rinse the clean clothes. All the clothes were put back into the washer to agitate the soap out, each piece picked up, run through the wringer, and dropped into a clothes basket to hang up. Then the rinse water was "let out" into a tub. Now comes the fun part! The rinse tub was carried outside, warm and just slightly soapy, for us "younguns" to play in. Our own private spa, where we swished back and forth, splashing water out each side, then we'd rollll, over and over... swish some more, rollll again.. for hours. When it got late in the afternoon, and the water had cooled down, we climbed out, squeeky clean, all tired out, to dry off with a big towel. Then we'd dress in our pjs, ready for supper and bed, barely able to keep our eyes open. Another great day at grandma's!