Scullery example sentences

Related (3): Kitchen, pantry, sink

"Scullery" Example Sentences

The scullery was where all the pots and pans were washed and the kitchen utensils were kept.
She went to the scullery to fetch more dishes for the dinner table.
The scullery maid spent most of her days washing dishes and pots in the hot scullery.
After the meal, she took the dirty dishes and pots to the scullery to be washed.
She entered the dark scullery and lit the oil lamp hanging from the ceiling.
The scullery was damp and musty, the stone floor was always wet.
After a long day's work, she retreated to the quiet scullery to be alone with her thoughts.
She opened the scullery door and was hit with a blast of hot, steamy air.
The scullery maid scrubbed plates and cutlery all day long in the noisy scullery.
The scullery had a trough with cold water piped in for washing the dishes.
The scullery maid had to clean the floors and surfaces of the grimy scullery every day.
The scullery window looked out onto the orchard, a small joy in an otherwise dreary place.
She could barely hear herself think over the clanking of pots in the bustling scullery.
The scullery was the hub of activity in the house, with constant comings and goings.
The warm water and clouds of steam in the scullery soothed her aching muscles.
The scullery could do with a good clean, she thought to herself as she went about her chores.
The scullery was dimly lit by a single candle, giving it a gloomy atmosphere.
The scullery pot boy worked alongside the scullery maid, fetching and carrying.
She washed the dishes slowly, relishing the peace and solitude of the scullery.
The scullerymaid liked her work but dreaded the rats that sometimes ventured in.
The cellar and scullery were her least favorite parts of the huge manor house.
The steam from the boiling pans made the scullery uncomfortably hot and sticky.
She began to sing as she washed dishes in the cheerless scullery, happy to be alive.
On her hands and knees she scrubbed the floor of the dirty, damp-stained scullery.
The sound of the rushing water and clinking dishes soothed her in the hectic scullery.
The stone walls of the scullery soaked up the moisture, becoming cold and clammy.
The floor of the scullery seemed to be constantly wet from the splashing water trough.
The cold, drafty scullery was the last place she wanted to spend a winter's day.
The scullery had an earthy, musty smell from being in the basement of the large house.
The scullery maid hummed as she washed the dirty dishes from dinner the night before.
The scrubbing brush in her hand left her palm sore by the end of a day in the scullery.
The scullery maid felt guilty for preferring the solitude of the scullery to the buzz of the parlor.
The scullery burned her feet and caused blisters that popped and bled by the end of the day.
The scullery was raucous with the clanging of pots and the shouts of the potboy.
She scrubbed dishes in the noisy scullery, longing for the peace and quiet of her tiny cottage.
The scullery was always the last room to be cleaned at the end of a long day of chores.
The scullery was the coldest, dankest place in the house, a place meant for servants.
The stone floors of the scullery were always cold and damp against her tired feet.
The rush of the water against the pots soothed her as she scrubbed dishes alone in the scullery.
At the end of a long day, she returned to the solace of the quiet scullery and her simple duties.
She found comfort in the warm, steamy atmosphere of the noisy scullery.
The scullery maid hurried down to the scullery to begin washing the breakfast dishes.
As she went about her daily chores in the scullery, she daydreamed of a better life.
The hot, clammy air of the scullery left her feeling tired and drained at the end of each day.
She scrubbed plates and pots till her hands were raw and red from the hot water in the scullery.
The scullery pot boy helped her sort and wash the never ending piles of dishes in the scullery.
The dishes piled mountain high in the trough waiting to be washed in the noisy, steamy scullery.
The life of a scullery maid was a hard, thankless job in the dimly lit, damp scullery.
Rats sometimes ventured out from their holes to steal scraps of food left on plates in the scullery.
She was thankful for the company of the pot boy in the spartan, dimly lit scullery.
The hot chaos of the scullery was preferable to the cold indifference of the upstairs.
Rats scurried across the floor of the scullery making her work even more unpleasant.
The scullery maid toiled away alone in the damp, musty scullery while the family enjoyed their dinner.
The pot boy carried the dirty dishes down from the dining room and piled them in the scullery.
She dragged her tired feet down the steps to the steamy scullery to begin the evening wash up.
Shelves lined the walls of the scullery, filled with pots, pans and cutlery awaiting washing.
The scullery was the domain of the servants, hidden away in the basement of the manor house.
The scullery became her refuge, a place to escape the never-ending demands of the household.
The stifling heat and steam from the boiling pans turned the scullery into a hellish place to work.
The scullery smelled of lye soap, hot water and the damp stone walls that trapped the moisture.

Common Phrases

The scullery maid spent all day washing dishes and cooking pots.
The old stone scullery off the kitchen was where the maid worked.
Dishes were washed and pots were scrubbed clean in the dimly lit scullery.
I entered the scullery through the door at the back of the kitchen.
The scullery was cold and damp despite the fireplace near the large sink.
The windowsills in the scullery were crusted with dried residue from years of washing up.
The tiny scullery was cramped, with barely enough space for two people to work side by side.
Discolored enamel pots hung from rusted hooks on the walls of the scullery.
Piles of soiled dishes waited on the wooden table for the scullery maid to wash up.
The scullery smelled of grease and caustic washing powders.
Hot steam from the kettle coated the windows of the old stone scullery.
Her duties included washing up in the scullery and cleaning out the fireplaces.
Crumbs littered the floor of the dimly-lit scullery where I rinsed out the dirty bowls.
I started my job in service as a scullery maid, washing dishes for hours on end.
The dripping pans and old cooking utensils were stored away in cupboards in the scullery.
It was a relief to escape the heat of the kitchen into the coolness of the stone-flagged scullery.
The scullery had deep stone sinks installed where the dirty dishes would pile up.
I ran my finger along the carved wooden mantelpiece in the musty old scullery.
The scullery door banged shut behind me as I carried an armful of dishes outside.
Steam from the boiling pots and pans would constantly fog up the windows of the scullery.
The wooden draining board in the scullery creaked under the weight of the dirty crockery.
Large pots of soapy water awaited the arrival of the next load of dirty dishes in the scullery.
The grimy scullery was my least favorite part of the centuries-old manor house.
The cobwebs, dirt and grease on the walls of the scullery made me shudder.
I hesitated before entering the gloomy, stone-flagged scullery for my first day's work.
A pile of unwashed crockery greeted her as she entered the poorly lit scullery.
The pots and pans left to soak overnight in the scullery had to be scrubbed till they shone.
An apron hung from a hook on the wall of the damp and musty scullery.
In winter the stone flagstones underfoot were like ice in the freezing cold scullery.
The scullery was poorly ventilated so it constantly smelled of cooked food and jellies.
The scullery maid worked long hours washing dishes and chopping vegetables.
I rinsed the scummy pots and pans under the icy water tap in the ill-lit scullery.
An army of cockroaches watched me from the damp shadows of the filthy scullery.
I dreaded being sent to clean the filthy scullery at the back of the kitchen.
The elderly scullery maid worked away silently, washing plates monotonously.
The dirty dishes were piled high awaiting to be washed in the scullery's stone sinks.
Cans of dried food stores lined the shelves in the dusty scullery off the main kitchen.
Potatoes were peeled and vegetables chopped at the wooden table in the scullery.
The scullery doubled as a larder, with hanging sides of bacon and strings of onions.
The scullery maid's domain was the tiny, dimly lit room at the back of the kitchen.
She worked up a sweat scrubbing the greasy pans in the hot and humid scullery.
The scullery maid cleaned the fires, black-leaded the grates and scalded utensils.
The kitchen cat liked to curl up on the old rug in the corner of the cool stone scullery.
The chores assigned to her included washing up in the scullery and sweeping the kitchen.
The scullery door kept banging in the wind as I scrubbed the dirty pots and pans.
The smell of damp walls and charred dishes filled the cramped and lowly scullery.
The wooden dresser in the scullery held plates carved with patterns of fruit and flowers.
The scullery maid's job for today was scrubbing the stone floor tiles on her hands and knees.
Dilapidated shelves lined the walls of the tiny scullery, piled high with mismatched crockery.
Dirt and grease coated the stone sink in the dimly lit and airless scullery.
She scrubbed the bucket and washing up brushes clean in the stone sinks in the scullery.
Larders and pantries led off from the scullery where food was prepared and dishes washed.
I entered the kitchen via the old stone scullery where I filled my buckets with hot water.
Her hands wrinkled and cracked from constant washing up in the cold scullery.
The scullery was cold even on the warmest of days with its single small window.
Pots, pans, cutlery and crockery all waited their turn to be scrubbed clean in the scullery.
The musty smell of mold filled the air in the dark and dingy scullery.
I sighed as I began the laborious task of scrubbing years' worth of grease from the scullery sink.
She stood by the huge stone sinks in the scullery, cranking the water pump to fill the bucket.
The stone flags on the floor of the cramped and airless scullery were always slippery underfoot.