THE APRON: A SYMBOL OF MOM'S WARMTH AND LOVE IN GENERATIONS PAST

As is my periodic nostalgic inclination, I was thinking with fondness the other day about aprons worn by housewives when I was growing up in the 1930-'40 era.

I dare say that there is not a child born today who knows anything about aprons.

For the most part, aprons are recognized in the 21st. Century as the exclusive domain of high-end butchers, bakers and restaurant chefs.

My flashback recollection of the good old days was prompted as I carefully folded and placed one of two "novelty" BBQ aprons back on a closet shelf after wearing it to prepare Christmas dinner last Dec. 25th.

My apron, not like Mom's
but it did the job.

Having dressed in one of my best sweaters and pair of trousers on that particular special morning, and always a proponent of getting more than one day's use out of any form of clothing, I opted for digging out the almost forgotten apron as cover against the inevitable spills and splashes I would be exposed to as I labored over the turkey and all its trimmings in the kitchen that day.

Exactly what aprons were/are intended for. Right?

The principle use of tie-at-the-back aprons worn by moms, grandmas and aunts in my day was to protect the dress underneath because women's wardrobes were by no means as extensive as they are today. It was also because it was easier to wash an apron than it was a dress...and aprons used less laundry soap in the old style  wringer washing machines of the time period.

Of course, there were rather plain aprons for every day use around the house and more fancy, fashionable styles for when catering to company and special occasion gatherings.

Aprons were especially handy as pot holders for removing hot pans from the stove and useful for drying children's tears...and on occasion, cleaning out dirty ears, even runny noses, all in lieu of the luxury of facial tissue and paper towels so readily available today.

Old aprons also wiped many a perspiring brow while hovering over a hot wood stove and its boiling containers of soups and stews.

From the back yard chicken coop, the apron was bunched up and used for gently carrying eggs into the house. When company came, those long colorful gingham and cotton coverings provided ideal hiding places for shy kids. 

From the garden they carried all sorts of fruits and vegetables. After peas were shelled, they also carried out the pod hulls.

When unexpected company pulled into the driveway, it was surprising how much furniture an apron could dust in a matter of seconds. 

And when dinner was ready, the apron was customarily waved from a back porch as a signal to the men working in the field and garden that it was time to come in and 'tie on the feed bag.'

Aprons, for me, always represented a motherly comfort, authority,  warmth...and home.

Clean freaks and those afflicted with germaphobia would no doubt go crazy today trying to figure out how many germs were actually carried on those old aprons. But I don't think that I ever caught anything from an apron other than love.