Cleopatra's Couch

CLEOPATRA’S COUCH

By

Lois Anderson Richardson

 

     Cleopatra’s Couch. I close my eyes and see it sitting at the end of our long kitchen. Peace falls over me like a gentle spring rain, washing away tensions and worries.

     It was the time of The Great Depression. The couch was old and probably already an antique. The color was burgundy embossed with flowers of a deeper shade of the same. A

raised back at one end provided a comfortable position for reading.  The frame was walnut with a few scratches and in

need of new stain. It absorbed just enough smoke from the wood-burning cook stove to add a homey fragrance.

     The crash of October 1929 caused turbulent times to most everyone as they struggled to make ends meet. My parents continued to work the dairy farm they rented from our doctor in town.

     The hard winter in North Central Wisconsin added to everyone’s financial plight. Equipment to clear country roads was slow, making it difficult, sometimes impossible for trucks to pick up milk from the farms. 

     My dad rigged up a homemade snowplow that winter. Two teams of horses from neighbors and his completed the “six horse power” needed to haul their milk to the main road. It was kept clear most of the time.

     As milk prices dropped, there was not enough money to supply the needs of our family. In the years 1933-1934 my dad hired men to drive his team of horses to haul gravel for the roads which covered about sixty-six miles. My dad and the men were paid by Works Projects Administration.      Later my dad took a job with WPA digging sewers with a 

pick and shovel. 
     My parents decided to leave the farm. My dad hired out as a day laborer for other farmers. The wages were not sufficient so once again he hired on with WPA, working on the construction of bridges. Men would work in tunnels and on bridges, hanging just inches above the water. His innate fear of it was a frightening and dangerous experience. There was no safety equipment. Later the laws were changed and safety equipment was provided.

     Having sold our car, my dad rode to work with other men traveling to the construction site. Paying those who still owned a car was more economical than the upkeep of owning your own vehicle.

During this time, my dad was rushed to the hospital in extreme pain. His appendix had ruptured; life threatening back then.
     Returning home from the hospital, Cleopatra’s couch was a pleasant place for him to recuperate.

     Listening to the coffee burbling in the percolator on the wood stove and smelling the wonderful aroma was cathartic to his healing.

     It was 1937. I was four years old when my brother, Bernard, my mom and dad moved into my uncle’s house. We did not have a lot of frills in our lives in regard to wants, even needs. Looking back on those years, my perspective sharpens. The things of real value in life come into focus like the lens of a camera.

During those evenings when he worked past my bedtime, the most precious moments were spent lying on the Cleopatra’s Couch and singing with my mom as she taught me many songs. This was a break in long, lonely days for my mom. It was this peace and quiet time that have stayed with me; a gift I still try to give myself today. Those hours provided the feeling of safety though many evenings my dad would not be home until very late.

 My mom spent many hours making clothing by hand. One undertaking was a gray coat made for my brother from one that had been hers.

Christmas that year of 1937, peaks my memory of Mom taking apart her red velvet dress and a cream colored satin top. She spent many hours turning this into a beautiful Christmas dress for me. The details of her handiwork paints a clear picture after all these years. 

     I look at our world today and wonder how anyone keeps their sanity with everyone pushing their schedules to the breaking point. Even young children have too many activities lined up like ten pins waiting to be knocked down. As I watch our world in its fast forward mode, I wish every family could have the strength of parents who had a fierce love of family, hope for a better life, and the peace and quiet time of a Cleopatra’s Couch.

 

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