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. . . 

Tightwad tips I don’t use

I don’t know if anyone remembers the book byAmy Dacyczyn (sounds like decision), “The tightwad Gazette” (1993).  I was looking through it this morning while I rode on my exercycle watching TV (I was multi-tasking, but had to stop to write this.) Here are two I won’t do. 

1) Turn the return envelopes you don’t need inside out and use the plain side.  At the cost of a box of envelopes (and the fact that few people even mail things these days), this sounded like a huge waste of time, and time is money too. What I have done is buy a box of Christmas cards at 36 for a dollar, and just use the envelopes (since we make our own, we don’t need commercial cards).

2) Empty the vacuum cleaner bag by opening the bottom and reuse it by carefully stapling the bottom glued fold. Whoa!  I remember emptying the cloth bag on a newspaper of the old Hoover an aunt passed along to us in 1960.  The amount of dust that is reintroduced to the air (or your lungs) just isn’t worth it.  Besides, the cat hair in the bag would make this difficult.  Amy really doesn’t describe how to get the dust out of the used bag.

I never took a photo of the Hoover Aunt Marg gave us, but it sort of looked like this one I found on the Internet.  Until you actually do a search on the images, you have no idea how many models there are. I think we might have given the old Hoover to our son for his first apartment. I’m sure it was over 50 years old by that time.

Human hair is a natural deer repellant—just thought I’d throw that in just in case you’re saving money by giving the family home hair cuts.

Is this a rerun?

I've packed away a number of nice wool slacks I bought 2 years ago, and slipped them under the bed. Maybe next year, maybe not. Life's too short at this end of it to sit uncomfortably. But I stopped at the Discovery Shop today and picked up two lovely, 100% wool, top brand, completely lined slacks for $4 each. Up a size. They are a little loose (a 10), but that's better than a tight 6 or 8. Upon examining one, I think it may have been one I donated last year. It looked awfully familiar.

I'm in an exercise class 3 times a week (new year's resolution), but if I have to do something I don't like, I'd prefer to walk. Too cold and too icy. My daughter who hates exercise even more than I do, is going great guns with the treadmill--she's up to 5 miles a day and has added weights. My SIL told me the other day that she's up at 5:30 a.m. When she was a baby she'd sleep 18 hours a day--should have known then she wasn't just a "good" baby. Although she was--huge blue eyes and big smile. She has a ton of health problems, and rather than add one more medication which would have to clear her liver, she decided the only alternative was exercise. She says she has much more energy now. I'm very proud of her. I have an exercycle in the garage that's about 15-20 years old and has maybe 100 miles on it. It used to be in the basement but it gathered laundry.

The vacuum cleaner's been making a funny whine. Today my husband was running it in the bedroom and called down stairs, "I think there's something wrong with the vacuum." (This morning he called up from the lower level and said, "The cat's thrown up all over everything. I have to go to the bank.") So I went up to investigate and took the bag cover off. Oh. My. Goodness. That poor little bag was bursting full, and returning last week's dirt to the carpet. So I scrounged around in the basement and found a new bag and replaced it. It's much quieter now and doesn't squeal when you don't make it work against itself. If your vacuum cleaner has been talking back, check it's little tummy.

About the cat. Yesterday I gave her a new, dry cat food--just for a treat--supposed to be good for hair balls. Oh, she loved it--has been making goo-goo eyes at me. Now, I didn't see any hair balls when I investigated, but I doubt there could be a single thing left in her tummy either. She's pretty small--not quite 7 lbs (although in the middle of the night on my head she feels much heavier) and from the looks of the laundry room, she's lost about half her weight. I'm thankful for small things--it was the laundry room and not the living room (white loopy rug).

I'm having guests for lunch tomorrow--soup and salad. I've made broccoli soup and corn chowder. I serve corn every chance I get because my husband doesn't like it (loathes it), so unless I have guests, or sprinkle some out of a freezer bag, I never get to have it. While I was at the Discovery Shop, I saw a great deal on some china (Mikasa) that was a dead ringer for my Syracuse, plus I liked the shape of the cups better. I was really tempted--but I don't really need 11 more plates and 7 cups.

There are two professions who need to go to a terrorist reeducation camp--urban planners and lighting designers. This morning in my very dim living room, one of the ceiling can lights burned out. Right over the couch where I was reading (it's a little like using a flash light under the covers). The trim piece on can lights end up painted to the ceiling, so you can't get to the bulb, plus it's like reading by spot light when they do work. Twenty years ago the city of Columbus rezoned downtown, taxed the people and gave tax breaks to retail and restaurants to build a "city mall." I don't think these "let's revitalize down town" ideas have worked--like creating pedestrian malls and forcing people to walk. It was a big success for about a year or two, but it was not built because of market forces, but by government fiat talked into it by urban planners. $116 million to build. Now they've decided to tear it down and make a park, at the cost of $165 million. I'm sure the next big "urban planning" will be multiple use, green something. And the rest of you will be helping, because I'm betting our mayor and governor, both Democrats, will be begging for bailout money. They've just let the last class of police recruits go a few weeks before they graduate and are discontinuing yard waste pick up. Brilliant. But let's spend money to tear down a mall and make a park no one will use because without police it won't be safe.

Local politics is the farm club for the guys who eventually go to Washington and spend even more money. Although some actually skip the local level, go straight to the state capital, for a term then to the U.S. Senate to do nothing for two years, run for President for two years, and then go to the White House.

High pitched whine

The last few times I've used my wonderful Panasonic vacuum cleaner there has been a really ugly whine. Hurt-my-ears-whine. Call-for-service-whine. Cat-runs-out-of-the-room-whine. My husband mentioned that when he vacuumed his office yesterday that it seemed to be missing a lot. I looked for my replacement bag stash, and set out to change the dirt bag, because I had no idea when I'd last done that. I remember the "elderly" lady from whom we bought our summer cottage in 1988 (a little older than I am now) had a little note attached to the spare bags about when the last change occurred. Guess I need to do that. When I finally wrenched the front off that machine you should have seen the bag--it was about to pop and the attached opening was a solid mass of cat hair. I'll bet it weighed 5 lbs. With the new bag, there is no whine. Problem solved.

Now, another old bag whine.

I was the hostess today for a luncheon of 10 retirees from OSUL and I selected the golf course club house. As I came in I saw on the board that the special was "Shrimp panini with drink." Sounded good. So I ordered it. When we were served I got this very strange looking thing--looked like 2 pieces of toast. I opened it up and saw a few mushrooms. I called the waiter over and asked him if he saw any shrimp. So he whisked away the plate and took it to the kitchen. One of the guests had come in late, and when she already had her food and I had none, I could see that everyone else would be finished before I got my food. I flagged down the waiter again. He assured me it was being taken care of. Another 5 minutes. I waved him down again, and told him (I didn't really whine, but I was starting to flush), I would go to the buffet and he should cancel my order. Again, he assured me it would only be a few minutes. In my firmest voice I said, CANCEL THE ORDER. I'M GOING TO THE BUFFET TABLE. And I did. I got some veggies, a little fruit and some sort of odd sausage. When everyone else got a check I asked for mine and he apologized and said there would be no charge. He also told me that it was a misprint--it should have said "Shroom Panini" not Shrimp Panini, but it was written wrong, and he also said it wrong in announcing the specials.

So I have no idea what they were trying to fix in the kitchen while I waited 10 minutes. Funny thing is, he said three other people in the dining room had ordered the Shrimp Panini, and no one said anything!