Mum in the kitchen
Every house I lived in growing up had a wood stove in the kitchen, with a firebox on one side, an oven next to the firebox and hot plates on the top. Mum would light the fire every morning and cook all our meals on it.
As we got older we took turns cutting the firewood, chips to help start the fire and bigger pieces for keeping it going. Newspaper was put under the chips to get it going using a box of matches, and occasionally a drop or two of kerosene. Hence why mum or dad were the only ones to start the fire. The firebox was stoked throughout the day and extra wood added, in winter mum tried to keep the fire going all night as it warmed the house.
Most of our houses had no electricity, even when we did we still used the stove all winter. One house we were in had a big open fire at one end of the kitchen, all the surrounds were tin. Not one of us 10 kids ever suffered a serious burn growing up with open fires and wood stoves.
We washed up in a dish, had a kerosene fridge, lanterns and a main light with a mesh like pump up bulb that lit up. I ironed with heavy irons we heated on the stove, then graduated to a Shellite iron that we lit at the back and the base contained Shellite that heated slowly and ironed the clothes. I still have some old oil lamps with wicks that I light sometimes when the grandkids are here, they are fascinated by them.
Life was so much slower and simpler back then, but boy did we all work hard at making it happen.
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