Lizzy lived about three quarters of a mile from our home. She had her children living with her at times and I guess I never knew her last name. She was the best laundry person around and could iron quicker than anybody. She taught me to properly iron all those cotton items of the 1950s. Even underwear was ironed at our house, but I learned on Dad's handkerchiefs, then I moved to pillowcases, sheets, and tablecloths. It took me a long time before Lizzy let me iron anything harder than the tablecloths - and these you had to be extra careful with because Sunday company saw them on the table.
Lizzy was a good cook too and could make a little go a long way. I especially liked her grits. They were always just right and she always added extra butter for us.
Lizzy was a short, wizened little woman, with skin dark as night. I loved to rub her arm and smell her skin. It was a mix of snuff and sweat and just Lizzy. She would always tell me if I kept rubbing her skin the black was going to come off on me and I wouldn't look right then. I didn't care, Lizzy had the best skin in the world.
I asked if I could try her snuff one time and she said sure, but to make sure I could handle it, she would have to blow a bit in my face. She blew that powder and I sneezed and my eyes watered and it had a stink I will never forget - I never tried her snuff and haven't tried any to this day. Wish I could say the same for cigarettes.
My sister and I were not mean, but we sure were mischievous. We would call Lizzy to the back of the house and when she came down the hall we would throw pillows at her. Of course, she was so small we almost knocked her down and she would run back toward the kitchen threatening to tan our hides.
Lizzy also worked for the neighbors up the road and our closest playmates. Their daughter, Missy, was a mean little thing and she claimed Lizzy spanked her one time. Everybody knew Missy was lying about Lizzy, but her Dad fired Lizzy for spanking Missy. Lizzy died a few years later in the same little house where she had always lived. A couple years after Lizzy died Missy and her family built a new house. My sister and I rode our bicycles to see the new house and listened as Missy went on and on about all the new stuff she would have and how special it was and we would never have anything like that because we couldn't afford it. Getting madder and madder at Missy, I told her that was okay because Lizzy's ghost was still living in the house right across the road. I told her Lizzy was going to get even with Missy for lying about the spanking and haunt Missy as long as she lived in her new house. A week later, Missy's Dad had Lizzy's old house torn down. Missy's Mom called our Mom and said Missy refused to move in the new house because Lizzy's ghost lived across the road. My sister and I thought that was real funny.
My Dad raised German Shepherds for many years. None of the dogs were mean, but they were protective of our farm and would bark to warn that we had company. When anyone walked down the road (which was dirt) the dogs would bark like crazy. Lizzy decided the dogs could hear her walking, so when she got to the creek - about a quarter of a mile away - she would take off her shoes so the dogs would not hear her coming and then put them back on at the end of the road. We couldn't convince her they could see and smell her, even if they couldn't hear her.
Lizzy was another special woman in my life that I loved dearly. And with all the rubbing - her black never came off.
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