Back to the Basics: The Evening Edition

For the past week, I've been paying special attention to my morning housekeeping routine. No excuses, no corner cutting. Running right through my list of tasks and checking them off one by one. And I've been successful --- except for the juice glass I forgot to rinse and pop in the dishwasher before I left the house yesterday. It feels great to get my mornings back in proper order.

I think it's time now to get back to the basics when it comes to my evening housekeeping routine. It's not a lengthy routine, by any means, but these two items make such a difference. It's fantastic to wake up to a tidy house every day!

Make sure there is room in dishwasher for tomorrow's breakfast dishes. Wash any pots or pans that have been soaking in sink.

Put living room in order.

So let's try this again. For the next seven days, I'm going to be absolutely rigid when it comes to my evening chores - as well as my morning chores. No ifs, ands, or buts.

The Housewife's Tool Box: Thinking Ahead

Let's hear it for persistence... I nailed that vintage lunchbox menu today. (It's about time!) And just because I want to make sure these vintage menus are really and truly better for me, I'm going to compare the basic nutritional stats to one of my typical pre-mission lunches. I used to love having one of those table-ready cans of Campbell's Creamy Tomato Parmesan Bisque with probably two or three servings' worth of Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits and Trader Joe's Chunky Olive Hummus. Yummalicious! And yet:

Typical pre-mission lunch
Calories: 640
Fat: 36.5g
Sodium: 1,480mg *gasp*
Carbohydrates: 82g
Protein: 16g

Vintage lunch, adapted
Calories: 360
Fat: 23.5g
Sodium: 370mg
Carbohydrates: 27g
Protein: 17g

Yikes. My vintage lunch menu today was a no-holds-barred improvement on a typical pre-mission lunch. So far, these 1945 lunches - with a little tweaking - are undeniably a change for the better. Here's the adapted menu for tomorrow:

Organic Creamy Tomato Soup
Open-faced Cheese Sandwich with Mustard and Lettuce on Whole-grain Bread
Celery
Olives
Fresh Pear

All this fuss over lunches here at the Jitterbug household has made me think about just how important forethought was to the 1940s housewife. You might have the latest washing machine, a state-of-the-art vacuum, and an amazing storage closet, but you couldn't run an efficient home without the ability to think ahead. To anticipate the needs of tomorrow and the day after that. To plan, to remember, to always have a foot in the next meal while cleaning up after the last one. The kitchen - the basic, never-ending demands of the battle to put nutritious, affordable meals on the table three times a day --- the kitchen probably requires more forethought than any other facet of housekeeping. And when it came to rationing - a family couldn't have survived without the forethought an experienced mother and wife had ready to apply to the challenge.

My own vintage meals are several days in the making. Before doing my twice-weekly marketing, I sit down to plan my menus for the week ahead. Buying produce especially can be a trick. If I buy it too far in advance, it'll spoil before it hits the table. Produce that keeps or that needs time to ripen can be purchased a little farther in advance. How many eggs have I got on hand? How many days 'til my milk expires? Can I get a better deal on spices at the supermarket or at the natural foods store? All these questions must be weighed as I make my way through the store. I'll bet most successful housewives constantly carry about in their heads a running inventory of their pantry!

In the evenings, I must look ahead to the morning. Have I got enough space in the dishwasher for tomorrow's breakfast dishes? Is there anything which needs to be taken out of the freezer to thaw? Anything to soak overnight? My latest question: What can I prepare in advance for tomorrow's lunch? If a vintage dinner is in the works: Are there any dishes I can make up before I've finished cleaning up after lunch?

I don't think this kind of forethought has to come naturally... If it did, I'd be in serious trouble. It's a learned skill, I think. Something you just become better at with lots and lots of practice. I haven't picked it up completely myself. There are plenty of moments where I wish I'd thought of something hours ago - or days ago. But those kinds of moments come fewer and farther between these days. See? There is hope for all you last-minute types like me!

New Week, New Strategy

Just stopping in quickly with a brief post about lunchmaking...

I ran into some trouble with this mission last Friday morning. I baked a batch of Rolled Oat Muffins to include with my breakfast --- and I guess that was all the work in the kitchen I could handle in one morning. With five minutes to go, I realized I hadn't even started cooking the egg that was on my lunch menu. So threw up a white flag and grabbed one of my leftover pre-mission lunches.

New week, new strategy. I'm going to try packing as much of my lunch as possible the night before. It'll be part of my evening chores in the kitchen. Usually I just empty the sink of any pots or pans that have been soaking and make sure there's room in the dishwasher for the next morning's breakfast dishes. Now I'll add making my lunch for work the next day to that list. Of course, there will always been an item or two that needs to be assembled in the morning, but I ought to be able to get the bulk of the work out of the way the night before. That's the plan anyway! Here's the original 1945 lunch menu in the works for tomorrow:

Peanut Butter, Bacon and Lettuce Sandwiches
Cauliflowerets
Carrot Sticks
Hard-Cooked Egg
Gingerbread
Grapes
Milk

And here's the menu adapted for vegetarians and/or reducers:

Open-faced Peanut Butter and Lettuce Sandwich
on Whole Grain Bread
Cauliflowerets
Carrot Sticks
Hard-cooked Free Range Egg
Grapes

Peanut butter and lettuce? I'm not so sure about this one, but I'm up for an adventure!

Who Says You Can't Make Time Stand Still?

Dare I say it? I think my nights are getting longer.

The absence of television seems to have slowed down the clock here at the Jitterbug household on weekday evenings. I noticed this for the first time several days ago. "It must be about 10:00," I thought, looking up at the clock. Nope, just 8:30. "It must be a fluke. Just a coincidence," I told myself. Nope, I felt that extra jag of time the next night - and again the next. It's like the morning that Daylight Savings Time ends, when you're smiling like the Cheshire Cat just to luxuriate in bed for an extra hour. It's an absolutely unexpected phenomenon, but I'm loving it!

My evenings are beginning to feel positively leisurely... and that's something this working woman never thought she'd hear herself say about a weekday evening. It used to be that I'd get home from work, heat something up for supper - snap my fingers - and it'd be bedtime. These days, I find myself actually reading, thinking about taking hot baths, and singing the greatest hits of 1944 as I give the kitchen a little extra magic.

It's like I found a way to stop time! We've been talking about it for years, but I've actually found a way to add hours to the day!!! (Now the trick is going to be not to fritter away that extra time with equally fruitless pursuits.)

Some of the downsides to being without television:

Where to eat dinner? I don't let myself eat my vintage dinner on Sunday evenings in front of the TV, but that never stopped me any other night of the week. Now I find myself all awkward when I'm ready to eat. Like somebody all dressed up with no place to go. (You'd think the clean kitchen table at my elbow would be a hint.)

I find myself in odd moments fantasizing about some of the great television I've watched over the years. Masterpieces like Homefront, life-altering documentaries like The Farmer's Wife, even the cheesy, comforting sitcoms that wrap problems up so neatly in a 30-minute bow. When I tune back in, I don't want to spend the time that's standing still for me now on anything that I don't wholeheartedly enjoy.

Back to the Bargaining Table

Jitterbug is getting her groove back, but it's taking some time. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard if I hadn't been hit with a one-two punch. If I had gotten sick without having been so overtired from taking care of my niece. Well, life deals you a few knocks once in awhile, and I'm sure I can put this behind me. What can I say? My bad habits when it comes to housekeeping took years and years to put on - and it's only been a few months since I started trying to turn it around.

Even as we speak, I'm bargaining with myself: "I can blog for five minutes, but I have to straighten up my living room afterward." "I can check out all my favorite blogs after that, but I have to clean up the pots soaking in my sink." A messy frump of a devil lounges about on one shoulder while a serene, aproned housewife stands on my other shoulder waving her finger at me. (Of course it doesn't help that this has been a great week for reality TV... Between the shocking finale of The Bachelor and wild card week on American Idol, I've been very - um - busy.)

On the upside, my morning routine is back in place and I actually enjoyed my breakfast today for the first time in a couple weeks. I've been vetching about it, but I'm getting that evening routine done most of the time now, too. I did my wash on Monday and some marketing this evening, but that's it for weekly chores. All in all, I'm doing much better than I was this time last week. And I've got a 1945 dinner on Saturday night to begin getting ready for. Here's the menu:

Parsley Buttered Potatoes
Canned Green Beans
Pear and Grape Salad
Corn Sticks

I love how fancy they make Canned Green Beans sound by capping it all like that... And how 'bout the Pear and Grape Salad? After the Celery Cabbage incident, I think I'll do some investigating before making a grocery list!

Catch-up Time

It's high time for one of those lil' bit of everything kinda posts - a catch-up post. The Great Housekeeping Experiment has left me curious about lots of things along the way, and I wanted to report on some of the things I've discovered.

First of all, my decision to straighten up the living room just before going to bed at night seems to work really well for me right now. I haven't forgotten to do it in quite some time, and having that extra few minutes in the morning for bedmaking has come in handy. For now, it works nicely. I'm not sure that'll be the case as I add more chores to my housekeeping schedule. The evenings may become a little more busy. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Remember that article on "eating to reduce" in a vintage copy of Good Housekeeping? I was curious about the portions I've been eating and how they compare to 1945 diet advice. According to the magazine, a standard size portion of cereal (suitable only for the men and teenaged boys in your family) was 2/3 cup. Women, teenaged girls and children should have a slightly smaller portion. A few days ago, Malt-O-Meal was on the menu at breakfast, and I prepared one serving according to the instructions on the package. When the cereal was finished cooking, it turned out to be 3/4 cup. Larger than even the serving size recommended for men and growing boys! I think I'll try cutting the size of the portions I'm making by just a smidge and see if I can get the finished servings of cereal down at least to 2/3 cup. I'd love a vintage waistline!

Speaking of cereal, this morning's menu was perfect for a chilly day:

Oatmeal with Prunes

The description is ever-so-slightly different than a similar meal I had a few weeks ago:

Stewed Prunes

Oatmeal

So instead of serving the Prunes on the side, I cut them in pieces and dropped 'em into the pot of oatmeal while it was bubbling away. A subtle twist on words here, but I think the author of the cookbook meant for these to be two different meals. In a vintage magazine article on bringing your family back to the breakfast table, I read that you might make cooked cereals more tempting to Jim or little Patty by adding dried dates, raisins, figs, prunes, or apricots. No doubt.

One of the questions I took up about a month ago was the wardrobe appropriate for a 1940s housewife during the early hours of the morning. Should I be fully dressed and ready for company by the time I start breakfast? Would a housecoat be suitable for morning housework? How 'bout a robe and slippers? Since I head off for work after breakfast, I've been getting dressed before getting things started in the kitchen - but hadn't given up my comfy slippers until yesterday. Let's face it, though. If a '40s housewife went to the trouble of getting fully dressed before breakfast, she probably didn't dumb down her outfit with slippers! So shoes it is. And though I love wearing a pinafore-style apron while I'm working at the stove, it doesn't seem quite right once I'm sitting down to eat. It's funny --- there's nobody here to see what I'm wearing - or not wearing - at the breakfast table, but wardrobe can really have an impact on your state of mind. Breakfast should be a festive meal.

In the homes of workers breakfast always comes at the all-too-brief period between waking and dashing off for the train to the city. It is the unusual commuter who rises early enough to spend much time at table in the morning... Set your table in the sun, if possible. Look out on a garden if you can do so, or, in winter, on a birds' feeding station. It's fun to have breakfast in company with the juncos and blue jays. It's also nice to pull a small table close up to the open fire on chilly mornings, or to set out breakfast on the terrace in summer. Flowers or fruit on the table. Place mats, or a gay peasant cloth. Napkins at left. People should wake up cheerful and breakfast should be serene and gay. Try to manage your household so that your husband enjoys his breakfast and wishes he could stay longer, even as you push him out the door with a kiss on his way to the eight-fourteen.

Lily Haxworth Wallace, ed., The New American Etiquette
(New York: Books, 1941)

Here's my last bit of catch-up for the day. A glimpse of my favorite vintage tablecloth, which probably dates to the WWII years. It makes my table so bright and cheery. Even on days with a menu like the infamous Tomato Juice and Waffles with Butterscotch Sauce.

Kitchen Mathematics + Ash Tray Etiquette

Does my oven run a little hot or is it just better insulated than ovens were 60 years ago?

Grapefruit Juice
Corn-meal Muffins, Jelly

I made Corn-meal Muffins for breakfast this morning, and they were well done several minutes early. Tough and dry in such a short time. Maybe it's not my oven. Maybe it's just a sign how radically our tastes have changed in 60 years. Of course, it could also be that I'm not a good cook - but I've been trying very hard to stick carefully to the directions. None of the baked goods I've made so far have been light or fluffy or flavorful. Did people in the '40s just not know how lovely pancakes or muffins could taste, or have we developed greater expectations of our food? Have our recipes for pancakes and muffins evolved? Just a little something to mull over the next time I have some baking to do for breakfast.

It's kinda tricky to work baking into your morning routine. In fact, the whole process in making breakfast still feels very mathematical. "Let's see, if the Stewed Prunes are going to take 45-50 minutes, but the Oatmeal only 5 minutes plus another 5 minutes to bring the water to boil..." You get the idea.

Moving my chores in the living room to the evenings instead of the mornings has worked out pretty well for now. I may have to move 'em on back to the mornings once I'm ready to start doing some heavy-duty housework at night, but I'll take this one week at a time.

Gather up on tray to take out: used ash trays, articles belonging in other rooms, plants or flowers to be tended.

Now here's one item I don't have to worry about when I'm straightening up the living room. There aren't any ash trays to take up and bring into the kitchen for cleaning. That's got to be a messy job. Smoking was h.o.t. during the WWII era. Especially cigarettes. Lily Haxworth Wallace dedicates an entire chapter to chewing gum and smoking in New American Etiquette (1941). In this passage, she firmly explains how important it is that houseguests use ash trays:

You should be very careful of ashes from cigarettes, cigars, or pipes. Do not let them carelessly fall on the floor or table in your own or your hostess' home. If there is no ash tray close by, ask for one and use it frequently. Do not forget the length of ashes on your cigarette. Never flick ashes into a plate at the dinner table and never let them drop into a wastebasket.

Bit-O-Honey

My crazy, no good, very bad, horrible work week continues, but - despite it all - I was able to get myself out of bed this morning at a reputable hour and make it through almost every bit of my new early morning housekeeping routine. Today's 1945 menu:

Orange Slices
Griddlecakes, Honey

I was determined that this batch of Griddlecakes would turn out better than the last, and they were definitely a step in the right direction! I followed the recipe's instructions to a tee, but the batter was still very thick. So added a little more milk and called it a day. Griddlecakes with Honey are very tasty --- though I should probably have heated the Honey to get it to just the right consistency. All in all, a yummy, but slightly heavy breakfast. At least I'm not dreading the leftovers this time!

I think I am going to go ahead and adopt the 1947 Good Housekeeping manual's recommendation to straighten up the living room before going to bed at night instead of doing it in the evening and again in the morning. As a household-of-one, I don't have to worry about anybody else making a mess of my living room after I've set it to rights. It should be pristine when I get up in the morning. Now if there's ever a Mister Jitterbug about the place, I may have to make a change, but for now...

The living room is tidied, the sink is empty, and the dishwasher has plenty of room for tomorrow's breakfast dishes. Time for some well-deserved rest.

Competing Visions

Since I still had a Grapefruit Half left over from yesterday, today's breakfast was more of the same. Once again, I ended up with citrus juice on my tablecloth. I've decided that I'm either going to have to loosen each of the segments at the kitchen countertop before bringing my grapefruit to the table or take the tablecloth off the table when grapefruits or oranges are on the menu! Maybe I'll have pick up some non-vintage table linens for just these kinds of mornings...

I came across an article in a July 1944 issue of The American Home with one woman's routine in keeping house. "I Run My Career Like a Star" was written by Celia Mattox, a mother of three. Here's the bit on her morning schedule:

Whatever day it is, it begins at 6:30. To wash, I slip into a becoming dressing gown - watch the shade, for a strong color gives a pasty look to a face without any make-up. Then I change into my blue denim outfit to prepare breakfast. [She explains earlier that while at home during the day she likes to wear a "becoming cotton blouse" with a blue denim skirt and "gay apron."] That over, the dishes are stacked, the house is aired, and I snatch a few minutes to do my exercises.

There's one woman who opted for a "dressing gown" while she spent some time in the bathroom washing up, but she was fully dressed before hitting the kitchen. I notice that she mentions stacking the dishes (maybe she doesn't wash her breakfast dishes right away either) and airing her house (fresh air is given lots of emphasis in the 1945 housekeeping manual). It sounds like Mrs. Mattox wouldn't have much to argue about with the authors of the manual - at least when it comes to her early morning routine. Heck, maybe she even owned a copy herself!



The Good Housekeeping Housekeeping Book (1947), edited by Helen W. Kendall, also contains a schedule for housework, though it's not quite as detailed as the one in the 1945 manual. Each member of the household is instructed to "hang up night clothes and put away slippers" before finishing up in their bedrooms in the morning. As soon as breakfast is over, "the dishes should be washed and the kitchen straightened up before you go about other household work."

• Remove dishes from the table, scrape, and rinse under the faucet if they need it. Stack them neatly at one side of the sink.
  
• Put away foods that belong in the refrigerator.
  
• Clear away waste food. Get rid of grounds from coffee or tea pot and empty cooking utensils which have been soaking during the meal.
  
• Clean sink so that it will be ready for dishwashing.
  
• Prepare dishwater and wash, dry, and put away dishes.

Kendall suggests that the living room be tidied up just before going to bed at night. "To start each day with the room neat, take a few minutes before going to bed to pick up newspapers and magazines, empty the ash trays, and take glasses into the kitchen." While the 1945 manual advises every member of the family to do their part in straightening up the living room at bedtime, they seem to have built this step into the post-breakfast routine just in case others hadn't done their part after Mother retired for the evening. Those crazy teenagers and their record players! As a one-woman household, I have more control over this situation, so tidying up the living room at bedtime rather than in the morning is certainly an option.

Kendall recommends that pots and pans be soaked during the meal so they're ready for dishwashing as soon as you are. A great concept, but what if your family's interested in a second serving? This would probably work out fine for me unless I had any leftovers that needed to be dispatched with beforehand. The biggest way in which Kendall's routine differs from my 1945 housekeeping manual is dishwashing. She is adamant that the breakfast dishes must be washed before doing anything else. This is not a bad idea, but the fact that I have a dishwasher which only gets filled up a couple times a week makes it kind of a moot point. I might give some thought to getting the pots and pans washed up and put away right after breakfast. If I straightened up the living room at bedtime, that'd free up some time for dishwashing in the a.m.

What do you think? Have you come across any vintage housekeeping schedules that offer advice for these early morning chores?