Several days ago I was opening a can of soup for a meal and a memory flitted through my head. This small soup can was a reminder of those very large cans, like what you might get whole tomatoes in or fruit.
The reason I remembered those cans was because I was rinsing out that small soup can with water. When I was younger and lived with my great grandparents we had a pump and a well outside. That well water was the best drink in town, in my opinion. Always cold, and always clear. And I'm thinking you might know now what we used to drink from it. Yup, a big tin can. Grandpa fashioned a piece of baling wire around the body of the pump to hang that can on upside down, but many times it was just sitting there next to the pump and the washtub. Mammy or Grandpa would take the label off a can and we would use it until it started to rust and then another can would be pressed into service. Tin cans were the perfect fit. A drinking glass would have gotten broke too easily as the well platform was concrete. A plastic one would have blown away in the wind, or a stray dog may have carried it off.
That pump held a lot of memories for me. The washtub that was under the spout was usually full of water. Grandpa would use it to water the garden and Mammy would water the flowers with it. If it was really hot, when I was very little, I would even get in and sit down with my legs folded up. The bottom of the washtub was a bit slimy, though.
Every now and then there would be a turtle or a few fish in it when someone went fishing and didn't get to cleaning the day's catch yet.
Funny how opening a can of soup can bring back such a flood of memories.