57 + 1 = 58

One more week - and one more pound. I weighed in at 136 this morning, for a total weight loss of 58 lbs. That mini-goal of 134 by Saturday, February 20 is just 2 lbs. away now. Can I do it? I'm certainly going to try!

This has been a lovely winter. My parents have been in town since late November and don't plan to head home to New England until early April --- which has been fantastic (it's such a treat to see them playing with Kitten and Poppet!), but it also makes my social calendar more full than it was during my first year of The Great Housekeeping Experiment. And when my social calendar is full, I feel like I'm always one step behind in my housework. I'm looking forward to making one of my vintage dinners for them one of these nights, though, and showing off some of my new cooking skills. Boy, won't they be surprised! I guess I ought to give some thought to the menu. Maybe I can plan a Washington's Birthday celebration or something...

One of the many things on my to-do list while my parents - and their truck! - are in town is to make my major furniture purchases for my nest: a sofa and a new mattress set. We're headed out this morning to do a little "market research." I haven't been furniture shopping in years, so it'll be good to see what's out there and get a feel for the prices. (It may take me a few trips like this just to get comfortable with the money I'm going to have to fork over. When you haven't spent a lot of money on any one thing in years, the idea can take some getting used to!)

Henry Humphrey's Woman's Home Companion Household Book (1948) offers some interesting advice on sofas:

To follow a good general rule, be sure that there are as many upholstered pieces as there are members of your family. Add to these a couch or sofa and there will be a comfortable seating arrangement for both family and guests. For large gatherings, provision will have to be made for extra chairs, probably taken from other parts of the house, so consider the upholstered pieces from the standpoint of comfort for your immediate family and the average number of people you entertain.

If there is no other accommodation for an overnight guest, the living room may occasionally have to substitute as a bedroom. For this purpose, a studio couch, or some type of couch which can be made into a bed, is a sensible investment.

If the guest bedroom problem does not concern you, the living room's upholstered furniture may be of any kind or type you like. There are all sizes and shapes of sofas; there are loveseats, couches, studio couches and chairs. Quality is important when buying. Flashy exteriors never make up for solid construction.

Okay, so if there's only one member in my family, then I only need one upholstered piece in my living room + a couch or sofa. Sweet! I'm halfway there. I already own an oversized club chair and ottoman covered in a burgundy velvet. I don't have any accommodations for overnight guests, but I rarely have overnight guests --- and now that my parents have a place out here which is going to be vacant half the year, you might say I have a guest room just across town. (Just kidding!) I would like to upgrade to a larger apartment at some point - one with a second bedroom for Kitten or Poppet to sleep in when they stay over at Auntie's - so while a sleep sofa might come in handy once in a great while, I probably wouldn't need it in my next place. I suspect sleep sofas are much more expensive than traditional sofas, but that's something I need to look into while I'm out shopping today. It's still on the table.

What do you suppose a "studio couch" is? As near as I can figure from the instructions in this book on slipcovering a studio couch, it's a flat piece you'd leave bolsters on during the day for seating and remove them at night to convert it into a bed of sorts. My great-aunt, who built and furnished a home in the 1940s with her husband, had two of these pieces on the sleeping porch. When my sisters and I were visiting, we'd take the bolsters off at night, pile them on the floor, then spread our sleeping bags on top. There were three of us and only two of the couches, so one unfortunate sister always ended up sleeping on the window seat. Luckily it was padded!

The living room in my apartment is not large, so size is key. I'm aiming at something about the size of a loveseat. And if I need a larger sofa in my next place one day, I'll still be able to get some use out of the smaller sofa in another room or as a second piece. I'm planning on something with a fairly neutral upholstery - maybe a medium tan or straw color - but who knows what'll strike my fancy. It probably won't be any of bright jewel tones popular in '40s upholstered furniture. Check out the blues and greens and violets in these vintage slipcover advertisements! You never know, though.



Here are the background colors I have to work around. My living room has wall-to-wall carpeting in a dingy apartment blue (think slate blue). The walls and woodwork are painted apartment beige. The window blinds I have to leave in place per my lease are apartment beige as well. My one upholstered chair is a deep burgundy.

I'll let you know how it goes! Thanks as always for making this blog a place where I can focus my thoughts and refine my plans. Y'all are the best!!!

45 + 2 = 47

My scale and I are friends again. 2 more lbs. are gone and I weighed in this morning at 147 for a total weight loss of 47 lbs. since April. Can I make my mini goal of 145 by November 7? I'm sure going to try! I've been beating off the cravings for comfort food like crazy this week. Every time I worried about the lump in my breast and the tests coming up on Monday, my thoughts turned right to food. And the richest, fattiest, sweetest, most carb-laden foods you can imagine. None of those things is going to fix the problem that's worrying me, though. I know the same problem will be there still when I've cleaned my plate and digested all those calories --- and where will that get me! There's nothing I hate more than wasting hours of exercise on a snack that doesn't do me any good.

I've made it through six days now without caffeine. Almost. I slipped up last night during happy hour with some friends. I've gotten used to sipping a diet cola while they drink their beers and panicked at the last minute when I remembered that the diet cola would have caffeine in it. What's left to order besides a glass of water? I doubt most bars or restaurants stock any caffeine-free sodas. Maybe I should've tried ordering a sparkling water. This place we frequent is kind of a dive, so I'm not even sure if they'd have even that! I'll have to come up with a new solution for next time.

My special focus for the last few days has been getting my morning housekeeping routine back up to par and that's going well, too. I have to be a little extra disciplined with myself, but it feels good to be back in charge. Of something, anyway!

So there's my progress report on the last few days. Now on to something more exciting... One of my new tasks when I'm giving the living room its weekly cleaning is the care of any upholstered furniture:

Brush upholstery if necessary. Straighten covers. Plump up pillows.

The only brushes I've been using in my housekeeping are the brush attachment on my vacuum - for weekly cleaning of AC/heat registers - and the little brush I use to clean out the tray under my toaster. I do have one upholstered piece in my living room, though, that needs some care. It's a big club chair (with matching ottoman) upholstered in a wine-colored velveteen. This sounds like a topic I'd better do some brushing up on. What does America's Housekeeping Book (1940) have to teach me?

It is an expensive mistake to allow upholstered furniture to become badly soiled. Light surface soil which does accumulate slowly, despite regular cleaning, can be removed from certain fabrics by home methods, but deep soil calls for professional care. Greasy soil and perspiration, if allowed to remain on the fabric, will affect the dye, and there is no remedy except reupholstering or slip-covering to hide the damage.

The necessity for shampooing can be staved off for long intervals by regular care. It is sometimes necessary to brush the exposed surfaces every day with a whisk broom or upholstery brush. At least once a week the correct attachment of the vacuum cleaner should be run slowly over all exposed surfaces. Use the brush attachment for napped upholstery and the suction tool for smooth fabrics. Once a month, or oftener if necessary, a thorough cleaning is in order:

1. Remove all cushions. Clean them on all sides, using the correct attachment of the vacuum cleaner unless they are down-filled (the suction is apt to pull the down through the fabric).

2. Run the vacuum attachment slowly over the entire surface of the chair or davenport, not neglecting the backs, or fabric underneath.

3. Use the slender suction nozzle to get down into all crevices.

4. Replace the cushions.

This sounds like a doable plan. Once a week, I'll hit the "exposed surfaces" of that chair and ottoman with my brush attachment. When the living room moves into my rotation for a more intensive cleaning once a month, I'll give the chair a more thorough cleaning with both vacuum attachments. I can look at things like shampooing the upholstery once I start adding some seasonal chores to my housekeeping.

It occurs to me how bummed the 1940s housewife without a vacuum cleaner must have been as she read this portion of The Manual. There's such a focus in this section on vacuuming technique. The authors just seem to take it for granted that everyone knew exactly how to use a whisk broom or upholstery brush in caring for furniture. If those were the only tools a housewife had at her disposal, she must've felt like she was being left behind as the world on every side of her rushed pell mell into an electric future. Even today, sixty years later, just reading this piece makes me want to go out and invest in a more powerful vacuum cleaner. My little bagless stick vac might be okay for a little light carpet cleaning, but it's certainly not sturdy enough to do any serious damage to dust.

Something to Dust

Dust high objects if necessary: mantels, high shelves, window frames and sills, tops of bookcases, secretary, highboys, etc.

In the living room - just as in the bedroom - cleaning is a top-to-bottom kind of business. The Manual advises starting by cleaning the hearth and laying a new fire. It's the messiest job of the day by far. The housewife works from the top down --- dusting the highest objects in the room on which dust might settle, dealing next with upholstered and other "low" furnishings, then finally the carpet. For now, I don't have a stitch of high furnishings to dust. The only item on my list here is the frame around my living room window. Everything else is shorter than I am!

As much as I love having one less thing to do, I'm hoping this won't be the case for long. I've been feeling nest-y lately and my apartment badly needs some redecorating. I should make that "decorating," because I've been just kinda perched here since moving to the Southwest two years ago. My sister had recently gotten married and had some older furniture she needed temporary storage for - so it's worked out nicely for us both. I got a few pieces to fill my little place with and she got some space she so desperately needed with a baby on the way. Ever since then, I've been unsure how long I'd stay here, so didn't want to stock up on fabulous furnishings and things that I'd have a hard time moving cross-country again. Fast forward two years... My parents have just purchased a small home here where they're planning on coming for the winters. (Can't resist those grandbabies!) So I guess I'm here for awhile.

One nice thing about living in a city this size is that there are lots of places to shop vintage. Including at least three large-ish vintage furniture stores within a fifteen-minute drive. I've got some shopping to do! In the meantime, how 'bout a little furniture porn. I'm aiming for a late Art Deco/moderne look when it comes to my living room. Here's some of the inspiration that makes me weak in the knees...


Pair of Skyscraper End Tables (1928)
Dynamique Creations, Grand Rapids, Michigan




Coffee Table (1930s)
Modernage Furniture Company, New York City




French Reclining Club Chairs (1930s)




Danish Secretary





American Club Chair and Sofa Set (1930s)



...and since money isn't an object while I'm fantasizing - check out this piece of cheesecake!


French Cabinet (1930s)

"crushed paper, dry kindling, and logs"

Happily, there's one item among this list of chores for the living room that I don't have to worry about. The hearth may still have been the heart of the typical 1940s living room, but there isn't any in my circa 1989 apartment.

Even for the vintage housewife, a daily cleaning of the fireplace would only have been a job during the season that it was being used. She must have cheered out loud each spring when it was warm enough that a fire in the evenings could be dispensed with. I've been reading the diaries kept by a woman in northern New York in this era. She lived in a farmhouse without either central heat or electricity and the coal stove in her "parlor" was regularly used from about late October/early November until sometime in May. (Imagine the work it took to maintain one of those cast iron coal stoves!)

We have the best of both worlds today. If you have a fireplace in your living room, it's probably something you only use - and have to clean up after - when a fire seems cozy on a chilly evening at home. Here's the "morning after" ritual recommended by The Manual:

Each morning the hearth should be swept and ashes emptied into the ash pit or disposed of safely. A new fire should be laid on the grate, with crushed paper, dry kindling, and logs...

Once or twice a year, special cleaning is necessary to remove smoke stains...

The wood box should be brushed out each time it is to be refilled. If insect life is discovered in it, prompt action should be taken.

And a stern word of caution for houseguests tempted to use the fireplace as a trash can:

Need we say that the fireplace should never be used as a wastebasket or a place to dump the contents of ash trays? When this happens the fireplace is most unsightly when no fire is burning, and a match touched to the litter and debris may create a fire hazard.

Week Forty-seven: The Mission

My sister is headed home to New England tomorrow with Kitten and Poppet. They're off to spend two weeks visiting family and friends - and enjoying some of that crisp autumn weather I'd love a taste of myself! (My babies will be so far away!!!) I've resolved to keep myself busy while they're gone with a whole new mission. It's time to take it back to basics and finally add that living room to my weekly housekeeping routine. The only real housework I've been doing in my living room since starting The Experiment has been to give that room a little daily tidying. It was ten months ago that I began giving the following treatment to my living room every evening before bed:

Put living room in order.

• Open windows top and bottom for free circulation of air.
  
• Pick up and replace small articles belonging in the room, such as books, magazines, music, games, victrola records, cards, etc.
  
• Gather up on tray to be taken out: used ash trays, articles belonging in other rooms, plants or flowers to be tended. Collect trash in waste basket.
  
• Carry out tray.

Remember those chores? They're super easy when you live in a small apartment and you're only home two days a week! It only takes me about five minutes each night and makes the living room a much nicer place to wake up to in the morning... Well, it's time to expand that routine a bit. Once each weekend - probably on Sunday afternoons - I'm going to give the living room some weekly attention.

Now, the authors of America's Housekeeping Book (1945) suggest that the housewife give each room in the house a daily cleaning shortly after breakfast. Once a week, she should return to each room and clean it more thoroughly. (The day of the week doesn't matter very much, but they do recommend once in passing that living rooms be cleaned on Fridays.) Since I work outside the home full time, I can't clean each room every day. Instead, I aim to give each room a weekly cleaning (with the chores recommended to the '40s housewife on a daily basis) and then - once a month - do the chores recommended to the '40s housewife on a weekly basis, rotating between the four rooms in my apartment so that each room gets the white glove treatment once a month. Without further ado, here's my new barebones once-a-week housekeeping routine for the living room:

1. Bring in cleaning equipment: hearthbroom (if not kept at fireplace), carpet sweeper or vacuum cleaner (according to need), dust mop, cleaning basket.

2. In season, clean out fireplace, lay fire, sweep hearth.

3. Dust high objects if necessary: mantels, high shelves, window frames and sills, tops of bookcases, secretary, highboys, etc.

4. Dust radiator covers if necessary.

5. Brush upholstery if necessary. Straighten covers. Plump up pillows.

6. Dust furniture and low objects if necessary. Treat stains or blemishes as they occur.

7. Dust exposed wood flooring with dust mop if necessary. Use carpet sweeper or vacuum cleaner on rugs or carpets.

8. Final touches: Straighten draperies, shades, curtains, etc. Take out cleaning equipment and waste basket. Return clean ash trays, accessories, flowers and waste basket. Close windows if desired.

Housework and Childcare

The last few days have been frazzled ones. My niece (I'll call her Kitten) has been sick with a virus since the day her mother left. Poor thing! My brother-in-law and I took her to the emergency room last night as we were getting really worried about dehydration, but the doctor told us she was in good shape and the virus would just have to run its course. We just have to keep finding creative ways to get her to drink, drink, drink. And with a toddler - even with a low energy level - the last thing they want to do is be in the dreaded bed, so she's still up and about. I've been trying to find lots of quiet things we can do indoors. Just this morning, I'm starting to feel a little peaked, so I'm afraid I've caught the virus myself and won't be of much help in a day or two.

The first evening I was there, Kitten was still feeling pretty good. As I tried to wash up the dinner dishes while she was playing in the living room, I couldn't help thinking about housework as it relates to childcare. Mothers of small children really have to be quite creative and flexible in order to get anything done. It seems to be all about corraling them where you can watch them long enough to do a few dishes here, a load of laundry there. Naptime or bedtime seems like it would be a great time to get things done, but Kitten's nursery is on the same floor as the kitchen and living room, so I don't want to make too much noise until she's sound asleep. (It'll sound too much like there's some party she's missing!) Besides, I found myself taking a nap at naptime yesterday.

The manual mentions children frequently. The authors recognized how important it was in designing or redesigning work spaces that mothers be able to keep an eye on their children at all times. "One end of the kitchen, away from dangerous areas near the range, can sometimes be reserved for play space." Here, a "low cupboard" could be set aside for toys or "cooking equipment" with which children might safely play. They encouraged mothers to find housekeeping tasks that children could help with even when it made the job a bit longer:

Small children are always intrigued by the work that is done in the kitchen. Almost invariably they want to "help," and if this urge is understood and valued, the children will find tremendous satisfaction in cooperative work, besides feeling "wanted," which is important to happy family relationships. Then, too, the educational value of guided cooperative work is an important factor in child training.

The laundry room is also a space where mothers had to spend a significant amount of time before the process was better automated. An "enclosed play space" was recommended for this room so that babies and toddlers could amuse themselves under Mother's watchful eye. Older children could play outdoors, but a window should look out on the yard so that Mother could keep an eye on them, too.

A whole chapter is dedicated to furnishing rooms for children - from nurseries for infants to rooms for adolescents. The authors of the manual advise their readers, though, that children should spend most of their time with the family. By the 1940s, the age of nannies and governesses was long gone in the U. S., and mothers were expected to be the primary caregivers for their youngest children. Living rooms should also contain "child centers":

"A table, chairs, and shelves for toys and games can be assembled inexpensively..."

Here, on my own child-less home front, I've been getting along pretty smoothly. I moved Thursday's cleaning-of-the-bedroom to Friday evening. It occurred to me while dusting that it's no coincidence the manual instructs the housewife to dust everything before vacuuming. All that dust that's been building up on surfaces high and low should be lightly settled on the carpet before it's vacuumed. I also realized that my dust rag didn't get near as dirty this week as it did last week. If you're dusting your bedrooms every week, your cleaning materials will be easier to wash themselves.

I didn't plan my morning very wisely yesterday and ran out of time before making my bed. When I got home from the hospital, I was feeling so blue I skipped the evening routine entirely, but I wasn't too blue to notice how much it crapped to be climbing into an unmade bed. It's amazing how quickly I've become accustomed to that little luxury!

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.

House of Cards

Along with books, magazines, newspapers, music, and victrola records, the writers of America's Housekeeping Book (1945) reminded their readers to be sure to pick up any games or cards left about the living room. And though I've already discovered how little my own living room resembles the room described by the writers, they've given us a little peek into the kinds of functions a 1940s living room served.

The living room was the place to entertain visitors with music, radio programs, and games - including Mothers's bridge party. (More fortunate families might have a tabletop radio or two in the kitchen or a bedroom, but the large cabinet radios were reserved strictly for living rooms.) The living room was the place to entertain yourself by reading, listening to records, maybe even playing a game of Solitaire. The old fashioned kind. It was a place shared by the whole family in an era before our bedrooms, rumpus rooms, "media rooms," home gyms, and craft rooms splintered us off into separate areas of the house in the evenings. The '40s living room was a busy place... No wonder there were so many things to pick up when the evening was over!

The manual recommends that games and "playing cards" be stored where they were handiest when needed again:

Shallow, enclosed shelves may be built in the living room... to keep games and cards in order and out of sight when not in use.

I don't have any games or decks of cards tucked away in my own living room. Though if I moved my computer in there, I might have to occasionally close a game of Microsoft Solitaire. And speaking of tidying up the living room, I think it's about high time I got started.

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?

Plan B

Alas, I fell off the wagon today.

I tried to squeeze way too much in the way of holiday baking into my evening at home yesterday. Went to bed late and got up extra early to finish doing up the packages for my workmates. Before I knew it, it was time to head to work and I was still trying to clean up the breakfast dishes... So my living room went untidied this morning, and I cursed myself as I stumbled over something walking into my dark apartment this evening. I've gotten used to clean floors very quickly!

Instead of hurtling myself right on into my new mission on Sunday, I think I'm going to continue with these early morning chores for another week - effective tomorrow. Make sure I take the time to really get them down before adding anything new. I've got to kick Ms. Night Owl out of this nest. And be careful not to overextend myself during this busy holiday season.

On a brighter note, my breakfast menu felt positively luxurious this morning:

Grapefruit Half

Prepared Cereal

This is the first time ready-to-eat cereal has been on the menu. No boiling, no stirring - just add milk and enjoy! The menus in this cookbook often suggest Prepared Cereal as an alternative for warm weather, but it only pops up once in awhile during the winter. Cold weather = hot cereal. I found some Shredded Wheat at the grocery store. The old fashioned kind that comes in paper packets. Three "biscuits" to a packet.

My mom served Grapefruit Halves all the time when I was growing up. I remember my sisters and I sprinkling our grapefruit with sugar and then trying to dig out the segments with our spoons without squirting ourselves in the eye with pulp. It was a talent, let me tell you. And you had to have just the right spoon - something with a nice thin edge. Too bad I could figure out how to cut a grapefruit crosswise this morning. I actually ended up with grapefruit quarters!

The Morning After

The living room was the musical epicenter of the 1940s home. The place where teenage daughters swooned over Frank Sinatra records, little brothers practiced their scales at the piano, and Mother and Dad tapped their toes to the Billy Mills Orchestra as they listened to the latest episode of Fibber McGee and Molly. And so my 1945 housekeeping manual reminds me to be sure to pick up any stray "music" or "victrola records" as I'm straightening up the living room after breakfast.

We always had a piano in the house when I was growing up, so any sheet music we were finished playing belonged inside the upholstered lid of the piano bench. The bench was just the right size to hold two stacks of sheet music side by side. And because they weren't as sturdy as music books, they needed a little extra protection. Music books got stacked up in a pile on the top of the piano and the ones that were least popular were kept on a bookshelf nearby. The authors of the manual recognized that the storage of sheet music and phonograph records posed a special problem for the housewife and suggested that sheet music might best be stored in labelled portfolios.

Have you ever handled one of those old shellac records? If so, you know just how heavy and fragile they seem in your hands. One stumble and they can break in two. By the '40s, many recordings were available in celluloid and, later, vinyl. Much, much lighter, but prone to scratching:

Expensive, precious records should be kept in albums or specially designed cabinets, safe from harm. Currently popular dance records that are in constant demand may be kept in open racks, but their paper jackets should not be thrown away. Unless these jackets are put on again after the records are used, dust or careless handling may scratch the records severely.

Our digital tunes in the 21st century don't leave much in the way of a mess about the house. No brightly-colored sheet music, no records, no paper dust jackets. I guess the only places they clutter up are our hard drives and playlists!

I'll wrap up this set with my vintage breakfast menu for this morning:

Stewed Apricots

Hard-Cooked Egg

Toast

Okay, so the menu actually calls for a Soft-Cooked Egg, but undercooked eggs have never been appealing to me. The cookbook included instructions for both. And though it's not how I'm accustomed to making a hard-boiled egg, it was perfect! The secret? Bring the egg to a boil very slowly, then reduce the heat dramatically, cover, and let sit for 20-30 minutes.

The Egg and I

Have you ever poached an egg? I haven’t, so this morning’s 1945 breakfast menu was truly an experiment. I had no idea whether I’d end up with something edible or not. To start, here’s the menu:

Tomato Juice
Poached Free-Range Eggs on Toast

The menu originally included a serving of Prepared Cereal, but the first two courses were filling enough. I like my eggs over hard, so I knew it was going to take a long time for them to do more than just “set.” Thirty minutes later, they were still several shades less done than I like, but it was almost time for me to head to work and I had a living room to tend to this morning! (I think I should have used a smaller pan.) They tasted pretty good - a very rich egg flavor - but it’s probably going to take a while to get this recipe down.

Pick up and replace small articles belonging in the room, such as books, magazines…

My vintage housekeeping manual advises the 1940s housewife to treat each of the kinds of reading material she might find scattered about the living room in a different way. Newspapers were just “picked up” and probably soon recycled into one housekeeping use or another. Magazines were returned “to table or rack.” They could be enjoyed for several months and then cut up for Patty’s paper dolls or, for those with a penchant for saving things, tied up in twine and tucked away in the attic. Books, however, merited several pages of advice. And, in fact, the schedule even allots time in the late afternoon for every housewife to enjoy reading or another quiet activity before the rush of the dinner hour. Even the layout of your bookcases was broken down to a science:

Bookshelves should never be crowded, because, if the books are jammed together, bindings may be injured or even split, from pressure. On the other hand, books should stand straight on the shelves, and not be allowed to lean, no matter how much space there is, for leaning subjects the binding to severe strain. If the shelves are only partly filled, support the books with bookends. If books are too large to stand upright on the shelves, lay them flat. Never put them at an angle. The shelves should be several inches deeper than the books and the books should be set well to the front of the shelves, to allow circulation of air around them. Never stack books in unsteady piles from which they may fall and be badly broken.

Check out some of the titles you might find on the carefully stacked shelves of a ’40s home. These are the four bestselling novels of the decade:

The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas (1943)
The Big Fisherman by Lloyd C. Douglas (1948)
Forever Amber by Kathleen Winsor (1945)
The Miracle of the Bells by Russell Janney (1947)

…and the four bestselling pieces of non-fiction:

The Egg and I by Betty MacDonald (1945)
Peace of Mind by Joshua L. Liebman (1946)
Speaking Frankly by James F. Byrnes (1947)
Under Cover by John Roy Carlson (1943)

Drat. Eggs again! I just can’t get away from them today. I’d better take a look at tomorrow’s menu.

An Archeological Dig

I really tried to get some extra sleep last night. I turned out the lights at 9 p.m., but woke up about 3 a.m. and tossed and turned for an hour. When my alarm went off, I was still tired. I'll have to try this again tonight. I think a good night's rest is going to be super helpful as my workload at home increases.

My breakfast menu this morning was very simple:

Stewed Prunes

Oatmeal, Milk

I had some questions about Top Milk last week when the cookbook recommended serving it with Corn-meal Mush one day. Tried some half 'n' half, but it didn't taste very good. So I've done some research online and it turns out that Top Milk (for those who can still get it) has about 7% milk fat, while half 'n' half has 10%. Rather than go overboard, I've decided just to use 1% milk when the menu calls for Top Milk. And it did today. I served the Stewed Prunes in a separate dish and remembered to bring the water and salt to a boil before adding the oats. The Oatmeal turned out perfectly. I'm so happy I've figured that out!

Pick up and replace small articles belonging in the room, such as books, magazines, music, games, victrola records, cards, etc.

This week's mission paints a sweet picture of the kinds of things you'd find in a '40s living room: lots of reading material, sheet music (for a piano or electric organ), board games and a deck of cards, phonograph records, ash trays, potted plants, floral arrangements... I had to laugh, though, as I went down the list this morning looking for items to restore to their proper places - and realized that I have practically none of these things in my living room! One lonely library book which needed to be put back on the shelf.

Here's the motley assortment of items instead that I found in my 21st-century living room this morning and had to put away: opened mail, 1 basket of clean laundry, 1 spice rack (gift from friend which hadn't yet been set up in the kitchen), a quarter, tote bag, purse, 3 pairs of shoes and 1 pair of slippers, ironing board and iron, 1 snapshot of my youngest niece, Christmas present I bought yesterday, and 1 new pair of shoes (still in the box). A strange collection of things! Laying it all out like that, like some archeologist examining the finds from a dig, it really says something about how I use - and don't use - my living room. I don't spend much time there. I pass through. Kick off my shoes, put down my bags and my mail, and pick stuff back up as I go through on my way out. It's not a room in which I spend much time reading or listening to music or playing games. The kinds of things the authors of the housekeeping manual expected people to be doing in their living rooms. Is it that my bedroom seems more cozy than my living room? I certainly haven't done very much in the way of decorating in my living room. When I moved cross country, I had to leave a lot behind. And I haven't yet had any of it shipped out here or bought anything new. The walls are that dreadful apartment beige, too.

As I sat back and looked around this morning before leaving the house, I realized just how spacious it seems when all the little odds and ends that are out of place have been put away. My apartment seems so much bigger than it normally does! Now that's a reason to get to bed early...

Week Four: The Mission

This week's mission will be the last step in building my early morning housekeeping routine.

Put living room in order.

• Open windows top and bottom for free circulation of air.
  
• Pick up and replace small articles belonging in the room, such as books, magazines, music, games, victrola records, cards, etc.
  
• Gather up on tray to be taken out: used ash trays, articles belonging in other rooms, plants or flowers to be tended. Collect trash in waste basket.
  
• Carry out tray.

Why does the living room come first? Why not get the breakfast dishes washed before embarking on the day's work? Why not get started cleaning one of the other rooms? The authors of the manual explain the method to their madness as they describe why each member of the family should help straighten up the living room before going to bed at night:

The living room belongs to the whole family. To each person it is a place for quiet recreation, relaxation, study or rest. Surely those who enjoy the living room should share the responsibility for seeing to it that clutter and confusion do not mar its restful air of hospitality.

This does not mean that the room should not have the charm of livability. It does mean that each person should be thoughtful enough to put away school books and papers, playing cards, sewing or the stamp collection, as the case may be, when work or play is over. If every one helps by picking up newspapers, returning magazines to table or rack, and emptying ash trays just before bedtime each evening, the homemaker will have just that much less to do during the busy hours of the next morning. And the living room will present a serene face to the earliest caller.

Pop ins! Getting everybody fed and off to school or work was top priority, but being prepared for pop-in visitors was the very next item on the agenda. Even if you were busily working away in another room when a salesman came by or a neighbor popped in for a cup of sugar, you'd have a tidy living room in which to receive them. Our homes today are so much more private than they were once upon a time. We expect visitors and guests only when they've been invited. And rarely do any salespeople knock on our doors these days. Imagine what it must have been like knowing that you might have a caller at any time between breakfast and bedtime...

Busy as a Bee

After lunch, it's time for Mrs. Amberg to give the living room a final touch. She's got guests coming for dinner tonight! Then off to the garage to see about the car - and a trip downtown with the children after picking Peter up from school. I love her spectator pumps and the striped awnings over the windows looking out on the backyard...

Jane Amberg, housewife & mother, standing on ladder to place special china plate as decoration above doorway in living room that she decorated herself, as her son Tony plays on the floor in their rented house.

Jane Amberg conferring w. mechanic at gas station about the car she uses to chauffeur her husband to & from his office & get the children back & forth to school.

Jane Amberg, w. Peter, Tony & Pamela, as they go to drugstore to buy ice cream cones after the boys had haircuts at local barbershop in town.

Jane Amberg rapping admonishingly on window in bkgrd. as she oversees her kids Peter, 7, climbing slide ladder while Tony, 5, blocks the slide & Pamela gets kicked out of tent while playing w. neighbor children in backyard playground.

A Morning with the Ambergs

A few more pictures of Mrs. Amberg hard at work at home in September 1941. It's interesting that the shoes she's wearing are not the pumps we usually see in vintage ads of women at work; they're just oxfords. And she's wearing cotton socks. So she's dressed for comfort, with her hair tied up in a simple ribbon. Before preparing lunch, she's changed into a striped dress - maybe because Gilbert was coming home. Looks like it's toasted sandwiches and soup on the menu at the Amberg house. Stay tuned tomorrow to see how this 1941 housewife spent the afternoon...


Jane Amberg, housewife & mother, busy straightening up before launching into some heavy cleaning w. dust mop & carpet sweeper in her living room at home.


Jane Amberg scrubbing the bathtub in bathroom at home.


Jane Amberg using pop-up toaster w. slices of bread as she makes sandwiches for her three children at lunchtime in kitchen at home.

Jane Amberg, serving lunch to her husband Gilbert who has come home fr. the office a few minutes away & her ever-present kids at the kitchen table at home.