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An accompanying washbowl for rinsing off fingers before and after the meal should always be within reach.

If I lost, that meant I had to go get the washbowl off the back porch.

We finally heard Miss Love pour her dirty water out of the washbowl into the waste pot on the floor.

“Had a bowl of cornflakes this morning,” I wrote in my Nationwide Building Society diary, “and 10 minutes later they were in the washbowl upstairs!! It’s Lucozade and arrowroot for me today!”

I opened the first one to find nothing but an old bed frame and a small table topped with a washbowl and pitcher.