My summer of 1958, part 3

What does an 18 year old do all day while living on a farm with her grandparents who aren’t thrilled to have her “help?” See Part 1 and Part 2 for the story about why I was there and what the farm was like.

The diary I kept that summer reveals a lot of cooking and cleaning, certainly more than I do now. Also some gardening—surprise—didn’t remember that at all!  Although I thought they were rather set in their ways and not too friendly then, 60 years later rereading the diary, I’m amazed and admiring at their flexibility and good humor at my housekeeping abilities.

June 1: “The food situation was bad.  Bacon and cold baloney are the only meats in the house. For some reason there are about 2 doz. lemons.  I fixed an orange and banana fruit dish and mixed some peas and potatoes for something hot—and also a meat sandwich.” Note:  when I was a child I thought eating baloney sandwiches at grandma's house was a wonderful treat since my mother never made them.

June 2: “We had scrambled eggs for breakfast, chicken a la king, biscuits, pineapple-cottage cheese salad and tapioca for dinner (noon) and “left-over loaf” and a mixture of green vegetables and fruit salad and tapioca-applesauce.”

June 3: “I mixed up some apricot-buttermilk  bread and put that in the oven at 7:30 a.m. I fixed grandpa and me soft boiled eggs and we all had mixed fruit.  They seem to enjoy fresh fruit in most any type of combination. . . For dinner I fixed hot dogs with bacon, corn and fruit with the fresh bread. . . I bought $10.84 worth of groceries—12 boxes of Jello and 2 puddings to make sure we wouldn’t run out for awhile.  For supper I fixed liver, boiled potatoes, orange-carrot-banana Jello salad and bread.” (My parents showed up around 8 p.m., I made coffee and Dad and I talked in the kitchen) “ and he sure liked that bread I made.”

June 4: I fixed pancakes for breakfast; they might have tasted better if the skillet were  not so rusty. I fixed minute steaks, beans, orange Jello salad and bread pudding for dinner (noon). . . for supper we had soup.

June 5: “The oatmeal I made for breakfast tasted like paste. . . macaroni and cheese for dinner—not much better than the oatmeal. . . soup for supper.

June 7: “I dusted some before breakfast—we had cereal, eggs and juice. . .[ate lunch in Dixon]  For supper I fixed liver, mashed potatoes, tossed salad, relish plate, and strawberry shortcake.  I used the good dishes and really had fun, but what a clean-up job..  After dishes were over I tried to make a strawberry cream pie, but it didn’t work!”

June 9: A reversal of meals--onion soup and baloney sandwiches for dinner and meat loaf, cabbage slaw and melon for supper.

June 10: Oatmeal for breakfast; hamburgers, corn creole and pear salad for dinner; fruit plate for supper with custard.

June 11: Ham, asparagus, cabbage salad and custard.  Soup, sandwiches and Jello for supper.

June 12:  Grandpa's birthday.  I baked a date cake for him, "a major project." Lima bean casserole. Took some cake to the neighbors in the evening.

June 13: Made out a menu and schedule for next week. Chicken pot pie for dinner; meat plate, potatoes & peas and tomatoes and banana bread for supper.

June 16: Hamburgers, mashed potatoes & gravy, tossed salad and blackberry pie for dinner.

June 20: Baked a coffee cake which didn't turn out, so I put it in Jello. Creamed ham and rice for dinner; hotdogs, corn and Jello for supper.  Decided to quit, but had a long talk with Grandma and we worked things out.

June 24: Baked a raisin pie; baked chicken for supper and salmon for dinner (noon) trying to use up food due to refrigerator repair.

June 26: I baked all morning (complained to diary they weren't appreciative). Home made rolls, strawberry parfait, deviled eggs, asparagus and tuna cakes.  Baked pinwheel cookies, ate 10, and sent the rest to my boyfriend in Minnesota. Supper was creamed dried beef and peas on hot rolls.

June 27: Baked rolls for breakfast and made cocoa. Macaroni and cheese for dinner, corn bread and creamed chicken for supper. 

June 30: Cleaned out the kitchen cupboards; washed plastic bags. Pork chops, baked potatoes, corn and apricot tarts for dinner

July 2: Hamburgers, tossed salad, fruit for dinner and potato salad, tomato slices, beets and rhubarb parfait for supper.

July 3: Cess pool backed up into the basement. Liver, asparagus, corn and fruit for dinner.

July 4: Baked a cherry pie, meat loaf, baked beans, fresh rolls.  Salad and soup for supper.

July 11: Fried chicken, lima beans, dressing, cranberry sauce, and crumb cake. Made Henny Penny muffins (uses left over chicken in batter) for supper, then baked a peach-butterscotch pie for the neighbors' anniversary.

I didn’t note in my diary if these menus were my choice or theirs, but reading them over in the following weeks I see a lot of hot dogs, liver and asparagus—which it seems I would go out and cut stalks along the lane. And they were a generation that loved Jello—one of the first convenience foods of the 20th century. Rereading the meals, it seems like a lot of food and they were probably not used to that.

The cleaning I mention makes me wonder how they felt about that—true, they couldn’t do a lot, and dust would blow in from the fields, but if someone came in my house and immediately started dusting everything would I be pleased or insulted?

June 3: “I took down the curtains in my room, washed them and the windows, dusted the halls and stairsteps and ran the sweeper.  Every time I pumped a pail of water I felt guilty—but it does my muscles good even if the water supply is low.” There wasn’t a washing machine so I assume I hand washed the curtains.  I always wrote about washing dishes right after a meal and what time I finished, because I think Mother warned me not to leave any dirty dishes around (not sure it was bugs, mice, or Grandma’s preference).

June 4: “I cleaned out the bread cupboard before breakfast and then had my coffee while I listened to the radio.  **This “revolution” in France seems a long way off from the tranquility of the farm.” . . . in the shed “I found the clippers and decided to try my hand at sharpening them on the old wheel.  I’m not much of a bush clipper, but I attacked the job with unusual pep and concern.  Well, at least we can see the bird bath now from the dining room. . . After dishes I ran the dust mop around and swept a few rugs with the broom.” It seems Grandma wouldn’t let me run the vacuum cleaner which was the whole house kind with tubes built into the walls. I mentioned it several times in the diary, with no explanation why.

June 5:  “I spent most of the morning sewing up the hem in Grandma’s navy blue slip and mending a pillow.   . . In the afternoon we all went to Ashton to look at some cattle Dale wanted to buy, and they finally decided on 89 head. . . After cleaning up the supper dishes I cut a fresh bouquet.”

June 6: I put on an old shirt “and a pair of peddle pushers and went out to the garden for lovely 2 hours of sweat and dirt.  I took my good old time about spading the garden—mixed it with a little tool shed browsing and knife sharpening. . . When I finished my “garden” looked like a fresh grave, but I was happy.”

June 9: “After supper I planted tomatoes and wrote letters."

June 10: "started in on the filthy stove.  The mouse dirt was really thick and there were old nests behind the stove.  I put clean paper in the drawers and put the pans and stuff in them."

June 11: Scrubbed the bathroom floors. Dusted 4 rooms, mopped the kitchen floor and washed the two porch doors. Scraped the paint off the dog door stop.

June 17: Cleaned the silverware and dusted my room and the two west bedrooms. I wrote that I was an intrusion on their privacy and they never said thank you.

June 19: Walked to town after supper, but the lane was like quicksand so it took longer.  On the way back I spoke Spanish and sang hymns. (This sounds sort of pious, but I think it was boredom.) I had also walked in on the 18th after supper to the Ives Drug store, and because it was getting dark by 9 I cut through a freshly cultivated bean field and snagged my dress on barbed wire, was wearing sandals, so was a mess when I got back, but "saved 10 minutes."

June 20: Cleaned dining and living rooms, swept the pantry, clipped the grass on the west fence--was still pumping water.

June 27: Cleaned the dining room and 2 living rooms and mopped the porch; caught a ride with a neighbor to Ashton to shop for groceries. 

**I have no recollection of a revolution in France in the summer of 1958, so I had to look that one up.  And sure enough, there was one due to the Algerian War of Independence (1954–62) which led to collapse of the Fourth Republic and its replacement by the Fifth Republic led by Charles de Gaulle who returned to power after a twelve-year absence (Wikipedia). So there I was sipping coffee and clipping bushes in Illinois and not paying attention while deGaulle was forming a new cabinet in France.  Without TV and the Internet we just had no idea. . . 

Magic Bathroom cleaner

I haven’t tried this, but wanted to save the recipe, and putting it in the blog is easier than printing it.

What you need:
-1 Professional Spray Bottle (it is worth the extra $1, trust me!)
-8 oz. Distilled White Vinegar
-4 oz. Lemon Juice
-2 oz. Liquid Soap (I use Dawn)
-2 tsp. Baking Soda
-10 oz water
To Mix:
Funnel in all the ingredients, squeeze out the suds, screw on your cap and go make your bathroom sparkle!
To Use:
Clear the surfaces, use toilet tissue to wipe off any dirt, hair, spilled liquids, etc.  Using the lightest spray setting, spray down everything- sink, counter, mirror, faucets, tub and the whole toilet, inside and out. I let it sit while I sweep the floor. I then use a microfiber cloth to wipe down the surfaces from the cleanest to the dirtiest. In our house that means mirror, faucets, sink, tub/shower and then the toilet. Be sure to rinse out the tub/shower really well so it isn't slippery.
Stubborn stains in your tub?
Whether its a dirt ring at the top or dirt stuck in the textured bottom, this will solve your problem! Spray down the problem area heavily, and then using a sponge with a non-scratch scrubber, scrub in a circular motion. Again, rinse very well and then put on your shades because its going to be shiny.

Every night the same conversation

At our summer home on Lake Erie in Lakeside, Ohio, we wash and dry the dishes together. At home we have a dishwasher. This is such a pleasant, companionable task we often say we'll do it in Columbus, but we never do. And as he washes, and I dry, my husband says the same thing every evening, "How can two people create all these dirty dishes and silverware?" So I go through it piece by piece--this fork was used for cat food, this spoon was for the Cool Whip, this spoon served the main dish, this one the vegetables. It's like talking to a toddler who asks "why," you explain, and he then says, "but why?"

Tomorrow the herb class is going on a field trip to Schedel Arboretum and Gardens in Elmore, Ohio. We'll have a guided tour and a box lunch. Our hostess is Carolyn Swanger. We met Gene and Carolyn Swanger a number of years ago when they bought a cottage at Lakeside and then needed an architect to make it fit their family's needs. He's faculty emeritus at Wittenburg, just some of the many wonderful people we've met here.

Each Wednesday there's a picnic in the park, but so far we haven't attended. There always seems to be something else, and tomorrow will be no different. After a box lunch I don't think I need hot dogs for dinner.

How children can help with housework

Recently the Work and Family Mail Box at the WSJ had this complaint from a father of 3 and one on the way. "My wife is busy and I work long hours, so it's embarrassing when people drop by."

My first thought was, Oh, oh, I'll bet that's the mother-in-law "dropping by."

I have no small children and my personal areas of our home (my office, the kitchen, the laundry room) are much messier than when I did. My children were my main focus in the 60s and 70s--I wanted to be a good example, I wanted to teach them life skills, and I was a bit fussy about hygiene and good health, probably more than I needed to be. So therefore, my children "helped" with housework without actually doing the work.

When they were toddlers I vacuumed and picked up toys once a day--usually about 4:30. One tip my Mom (married 65 years) gave me was always look good for your husband when he walks in the door--and that includes the house. Put on a fresh dress, straighten your seams (her era), comb your hair and powder your nose.

My children were bathed daily before bedtime, and since I was already on my knees, that meant the tub was cleaned daily, and the floor mopped up. Toilet training meant special attention to hygienic facilities. In those days, I ironed weekly, not bi-monthly. Shopping was once a week--alone--not every other day like now when I have plenty of time and no schedule.

My parents had four children within seven years, and I can't ever recall a time when the house was messy for long, even during the time when mom baked and sold pies (although I wasn't tall enough to see the kitchen counter then). Neither had mothers who put in a lot of time on "keeping a house" so a pleasant, clean house was important to them. However, we were free to rearrange the furniture and drape blankets around to create houses, drag out the Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, dolls and trucks, or set up an art studio on the dining room table. I can't recall anyone stopping me from running through the house pretending to be a pony, using the beds as a trampoline, (or falling down stairs frequently). So Mom must have started picking up the mess and putting the furniture back about an hour before Dad's return in the evening.

The WSJ columnist suggested to the reader that he find a "household coach" to help his wife with organization. I've seen this done on TV, but wonder how long it lasts. I think of my own efforts to keep my personal space clean--it's not exactly like I don't know what to do or why! Today we have on-line helps like Fly Lady (today is zone 2) where you tackle one area a day and do a 50-fling/pick up or something like that.

I tend to think you either see it and it bothers you, or you don't. In that family, unfortunately, the husband could see it, the wife couldn't.

Lady, you don't need us, you need a miracle

He says he really told her that, but I'm sure he didn't, otherwise she'd report him to his boss. You know how people hate to hear the truth. He is a service worker who regularly sees the inside of people's homes, from big mansion to shabby duplex to apartments, from attic to basement to garage. This one, he noted shaking his head, looked like a herd of cattle had been driven through the living room. Mud. Animal feces. Filthy clothes. Bad odors. Trim and weather stripping broken or missing. The home was built in 1995--nice area, working father, stay at home mom. Two young children. If he'd been an animal protection officer and the children were pets, he probably could have removed them. He says he waited after giving her an estimate while she called her husband. He could hear him screaming at her through the phone from the other side of the room.

Maybe one of those marriage 101 workshops the federal government is funding could help. Or a daily cleaning service. Or that English nanny we see on TV. Slobs come in all classes and income brackets. A friend of mine was a "home manager," she cleaned, baby sat and ran errands for a wealthy family in Dublin with 4 rotten to the core children (both parents were professional--doctor and lawyer). She couldn't stand it. She quit because each day she came back to work and it was a worse mess than the day before, even after she'd put everything in order. She was told she couldn't remove the pet dog from the kitchen counters where it would eat the butter. Some people are beyond slobdom. They do need a miracle.

Are dads less handy these days?

There's an interesting discussion going on over at the Juggle, the Wall St. Journal work blog. Tom Weber admits he has to call in his own father when something around the house needs to be fixed. My husband is pretty handy, but we do call on our son for advice on the cars, and our son-in-law on many tasks, particularly trimming our bushes or moving furniture. I literally don't know which end of the hammer to use. I think I get that from my dad. If he owned a tool, I never saw him pick it up. My mother did everything around the house, including painting, wallpapering, wiring, plumbing and carpentry and the outside stuff too, like gardening, mowing and climbing ladders to hang storm windows and clean gutters. I really hated that, and vowed I'd never do it. That's why I say I got it from Dad.

3609

Are you filthy rich?

Like the two bathroom house in the 50s and the three car garage in the 90s, the new status symbol is multiple laundry rooms. Today's WSJ shows a 12,000 sf house on 2 acres in Payson, AZ that has nine(!) combined washers and dryers, a main laundry room and a pet washing station. It's listed at $7.9 million (price includes $1 million of collectibles, 5 classic cars and a stocked wine cellar).

The amount of laundry we generate surprises me, but we have enough clothing and bedding that really, I do laundry only every 10 or 11 days. And the laundry room is in the basement. I incorporate the trips up and down the stairs into my exercise routine. I change the sheets weekly, pillow cases about every 2-3 day; towels get about 3 days use; dish towels about 2 days; bathroom hand towels maybe a week. But yesterday I gathered everything in the closets that was red, rust or fuchsia, and loaded them into cool water. I usually ignore the labels that say "dry clean only," especially if it was made in China and written in Spanish. I can't even remember the last time I had a 100% red load of laundry. I don't wear much clear, deep red--I'm terribly pale, and my husband even moreso, so we go for the warmer tones of rust, peach, coral, etc.

If you flip this, and put a space between the sink and units with counter space, my laundry room looks like this (photo from the internet), installed with the former kitchen cabinets, and it's all behind bi-fold doors, sharing space with the kitty litter unit.
Still, I wonder what rich people do to get their clothes so dirty that they (or their house staff) need so many laundry units, don't you?