Sun and Air

My sister is home at last, so my niece is in good hands again - and I'm sick. I think I caught whatever virus Kitten was coping with, so I'm glad it held off until I could be sick on my own time. My routine took a hit on Thursday evening (I didn't get home until 1 a.m.) and again on Friday morning (just barely made it to work), but I'm taking it very easy this weekend. Trying to get lots of rest, but moving slowly through my accustomed chores. Did a little bit of Wednesday's marketing last night and this morning have just begun Thursday's weekly cleaning-of-the-bedroom.

Cleaning the bedroom isn't exactly a fast-paced chore. After stripping the beds and hanging the covers out to air, you tote your bric-a-brac out to wherever you're going to dust or polish it and bring your cleaning equipment and fresh linens into the bedroom. Then it's just a matter of waiting for fresh air to do its part of the job. You see, the mattress and pillows need to be aired, too. Now, if you were cleaning several bedrooms, you could probably work the timing out so that you were getting things started in each of your other rooms while you were waiting for the first room to be properly aired. Here are some guidelines from the manual for putting that fresh air to work:

Mattresses

Innerspring:

Sun and air once a week (strip off the bedding and open the windows wide for at least an hour).

Pillows

Air pillows at least once a month by placing them on chairs near an open window.

Bedding

Bedding should be aired at least once a week. Spread it over two chairs near an open window and leave it there for at least an hour. An occasional airing out of doors over a line is good for it. Choose a day when the weather is fair to warm.

My bedroom window is open and the blinds have been pulled so the mattress and pillows are getting as much fresh air as possible. I've hung my quilt and blanket over the railing outside on my landing, and I'll give them a good shake before bringing them inside. Get all the dust out. Apartment Land is not an ideal place for doing these kinds of chores - what I wouldn't give for an outdoor clothesline!!! - and I live in a city with a lot of crime, so I'm always a little worried my bed covers will disappear while they're airing!

Unless my appetite takes a nosedive, I'm going to try the first of my 1945 dinner menus this evening:

Steamed Rice

Buttered Carrots

Celery Cabbage Salad

Steamed Molasses Pudding

This is a weekday (Monday-Saturday) dinner with a few alterations. I'm omitting the meat course. 1940s home economists believed that each dinner should contain both a starchy vegetable or grain (potatoes, rice, etc.) and a bread. That's way too many carbs for me, so I'm going to have one or the other. Since my dessert is a bready-type dish, I'm going to opt for the Steamed Rice over the Enriched Bread this 'time round. The recommended beverages are Milk and Coffee. Do you drink a full glass of milk with your meals? It's been years since I did so, and though I'm not sure this is a good thing (am I really getting enough calcium?), the thought kind of icks me out after all this time. Coffee at breakfast is more than enough for me, so I think I'll just go with a glass of ice water at dinner. This time, anyway.

My hour is up and it's time to get to work making up the bed. Hey, if I'm going to be feeling under the weather all weekend, there's no place for recuperating like a fresh, clean bed!

Sunday Dinner

Kitten is f.i.n.a.l.l.y asleep after a long tug-of-war with bedtime. I picked her up at her grandmother's after work and she was in the middle of what would become several meltdowns. From what I hear, she didn't have a nap today so I'm not surprised the evening was such a trial. The good news is that her tummy hasn't been upset in four days now. Her throat is still sore, her nose is still runny, and she misses her mother and baby sister terribly. I tried to clean things up a bit after she feel asleep. Housekeeping in the dark - with just a very dim light in the kitchen - is not a treat. Just 24 more hours...

I was showing a friend my 1945 cookbook yesterday and she noticed right away that the menus in the back are different on Sundays than they are on every other day of the week. Sunday is the one day where the menus shift from a Breakfast-Lunch-Dinner pattern to Breakfast-Dinner-Supper. A telling glimpse into the rhythms of yesterday. When Sundays for most Americans meant a morning church service, a dinner at mid-day that was more elaborate than any other meal of the week, and a light supper in the evening. These were the Sundays I knew as a child in the 1970s and '80s. When we got home from church, my mother would hurry off to the kitchen and bustle about as we played indoors. We were still in our church clothes - my mom looking fancier than she had all week - and we'd sit down to the table at 1 or 2:00.

There's something to be said for sharing these kinds of feasts as a family on a regular basis. Not just once or twice during the holidays, but pausing once a week to express your gratitude for the good things on your table and the people 'round it. A chance to teach little ones about table manners and fine dining. A chance for mom (or whomever the cook in the family might be) to show off some new recipes. A chance for the family to regularly use their finest dishes and glassware. Society as a whole pausing for a day of rest is something we've lost in 2009 and not for the better, I think. I don't have a husband or children to treat to an elaborate dinner, but I'd love to bring back some of that ritual to my Sundays...

For now, I'm sticking to the Monday-Saturday dinner menus. And I'll probably do 'em up on Saturday evenings. That gives me plenty of time to prepare them and clean up afterwards. I'm going to need to get my sea legs before I try doing any of these on a weeknight!

A Room with a View

Better Homes and Gardens extended the idea of an all-efficient kitchen right on into the dooryard in this February 1947 article about the help that a great view could be for the housewife:

What Does Your Wife See From the Kitchen?

Why ignore the kitchen window when planning your garden? Other windows will frame special views, each carefully planned. Yet women spend more than one-third of all their daylight hours in the kitchen, more if they iron there, too. Tho moments to look out are few, even fleeting glances can restore energy and lift spirits. Gay flower colors and graceful foliage of choice plants can offer their cheer. Or yours can be a tiny garden, quiet and peaceful - a place for shadows to play.

Alas, the little kitchen in my little apartment hasn't any windows or views. (I'm so jealous of you homeowners!) I wouldn't say I'm spending one-third of all my daylight hours in the kitchen yet, but I'll soon be adding a vintage dinner to my routine once a week. And when my sister gets home and my niece is happily under her mother's care again, I'll be adding a weekly cleaning o' the kitchen to my routine. Is it time to add some flowering plants or a pot of ivy to my windowless workspace? Any ideas for some houseplants with a '40s flair that'll thrive in the kitchen?

Dinner Plans

Last Wednesday, I began preparing for my first 1945 dinner menu by doing some marketing with the first of the menus in mind. Looking ahead, I noticed there are lots of steamed puddings to look forward to. Steaming is something we pretty much reserve these days for rice, veggies, and other main dish kinds of things - but dessert? It's very vintage. I wonder why it went out of style...

So I decided this morning that it was time to invest in some steaming equipment. As best I can tell, there are four basic things you need to have on hand: a big kettle-type pot, a rack that can be set on the bottom of the pot above some boiling water, a pudding mold (recycled cans from coffee, vegetables, etc. can be used as can ceramic or other baking dishes), and some wax paper or aluminum foil for covering the mold(s) tightly. I have a new chiffon cake pan that'd be perfect for a pudding mold, but I needed to find a kettle big enough - and tall enough - to hold it!

After spending about an hour in the kitchen aisles at Target, I settled on a 12-quart aluminum tamale steamer. (Luckily, tamales and other Mexican cookery are very important locally, so there were lots of pots available that looked like they would be suitable for steaming small and medium-sized puddings.) The pot has a ledge a few inches from the bottom and comes with a steaming insert that sits right inside that ledge. And luckiest of all, when I brought it home, the chiffon cake pan slid right on in. It's going to be perfect. I'm not yet sure which night I'll put this "new" dinner on the table but there'll be a Steamed Molasses Pudding on the menu for dessert!

I'm sticking with the vintage breakfasts, too - though I'm going to take it very easy with the Griddle Cakes, French Toast, etc. I'm going back through the menus a second time now, but I'm going to try and mix things up a bit by taking advantage of some of the suggested alternatives that pop up every so often. And once the weather really warms up, I'm going to shift from the winter menus to the summer menus. I'll be posting my breakfast menus by the week in the sidebar.

Speaking of breakfast, I left the house this morning with a lemon on my grocery list (see Tuesday's menu). What a wonderful surprise to get to work and find that a coworker had brought in a big carton of lemons from the tree in his yard to share with everybody! You gotta love citrus season. Another coworker asked me if I was a "grapefruit kinda person." Heck, yeah. That should slim down the grocery list!

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!

and Jimmy F. . . .

We thought Mr. F. had it bad! Listen in as Better Homes and Gardens delivers the scoop on the unfortunate son of these breakfast-spurning parents. Can his morning habits be reformed?

and Jimmy F. . . .

Jimmy F., 12, has more A's on his absence record than on his report card. His teacher thinks he's dull, but his real trouble is mineral and vitamin deficiency. Underweight and small for his age, he doesn't pay attention.

At fault is Jimmy's habit of getting up too late to eat breakfast. His stomach has been empty more than 10 hours, since average meal leaves in 4. No wonder he can't concentrate on decimals...

In school, Jimmy can't see the blackboard well, his vision is dim from deficiency of B2. By 10 o'clock he feels drowsy, thinks history is the dullest subject he takes.

During gym period, no one wants Jimmy on soccer team. [Twisting the screws of guilt into that lackadaisical Mrs. F.!] He's weak, bruises easily (Vitamin C deficiency). Vitamin C isn't stored in the body, must be provided daily...

Overhungry at noon, Jimmy eats lunch so fast that his digestion is upset for the rest of the day, trying to care for this sudden heavy load of food improperly chewed.

Boy, 12, 58 inches tall, weighing 85 pounds needs about 2,900 calories a day.

Suggested breakfast
Large orange
2/3 cup flaked wheat
1/4 cup top milk
1 cup whole milk
2 slices toast (whole-wheat raisin bread)
1 tablespoon butter
1 soft-cooked egg
2 tablespoons jam

I guess home economists of the time assumed that kids would like food best that they could pick apart for themselves - oranges, soft-cooked eggs. I ate a modified version of this breakfast myself yesterday morning: orange slices, raisin bread toast with butter and jam, and a hard-cooked egg.

A Wash and a Trim

Today was Marketing Day and for the first time in two weeks, I've brought some vegetables home - a bag of organic carrots, two bunches of celery hearts, and a bag of pre-shredded cabbage. (I'd have bought this by the head, but went to a smallish grocery store this evening and they didn't have any heads of cabbage.)

Those of you who've been following my blog may have noticed that the breakdown I've been keeping for "My Food Dollar" isn't exactly heavy in the fruits and veggies. Part of the reason is that I eat a lot of prepared or frozen foods and decided to clump these into the Fats, Sugar, and Miscellaneous Items category - unless they quite obviously belonged to another category.

The reason I brought home so much fresh produce today? I'm planning on preparing the first of the 1945 dinner menus in a few days. Friday, at the earliest. The difference between my usual groceries and today's groceries is pretty striking.

At any rate, one of the recommendations in The Good Housekeeping Housekeeping Book (1947) is that the housewife wash and trim the fresh vegetables she brings home on Marketing Day before putting them away. That way they'll be ready to go whenever she's preparing a meal. Makes lots of sense for some veggies, I think. I puzzled a bit over what to do with the carrots. I could definitely wash them, but should I scrape and trim them now or wait until just before using them? Wouldn't the carrots get all dried out? As I was washing them, I suddenly realized something that should have been obvious. Most 1940s housewives would have brought carrots home with the leaves still attached! Trimming that bit off would have made storing carrots much easier even if you didn't do anything else. The carrots I buy these days haven't any leaves, so some of the prep has already been done for me.

When it came to the celery, I cut off the base and cleaned out all the soft yellow stalks on the inside before washing the celery. The clean veggies are drying now on a clean towel. I haven't yet decided what kind of container I'll store them in... Should I be storing them lose in the crisper? I'm embarrassed to feel so unsure of myself about such basic things. It forces me to face just how little my meals resemble whole, natural foods (breakfasts now excluded!)...

Okay, I just took a look in the fridge. The crispers are going to need a thorough cleaning before I store anything inside 'em!

Case of Mr. F. . . .

We met Mrs. F. a two days ago and got to know why even a dieting housewife needs a good day's breakfast. Alas, her disinterest in breakfast has led her to prepare boring meals for Mr. F. every morning, and now he can't be bothered with breakfast any longer. Can Better Homes and Gardens save the day?

Case of Mr. F. . . .

Mr. F. has no appetite for breakfast, often goes to the office without eating anything, getting coffee and rolls later on. He feels midmorning hunger pangs, yawns at his desk. His hands aren't steady as he lights a cigarette (B1 shortage) [I'm betting that's just the nicotine!] and he's losing his hair prematurely (B2 deficiency).

Breakfasts served were so monotonous that Mr. F. lost interest in eating...

Mineral and vitamin defects lead to his lowered mental activity. Diminishing glycogen reserves (form in which sugar, starches are stored in the tissues) hasten fatigue, important factor in accidents. Most industrial injuries occur before noon.

In evening, at home, Mr. F. is tuckered out, irritable; doesn't want to romp with the children...

Calculated energy expenditure for man weighing 154 pounds, in sedentary job, is about 2,400 calories a day.

Suggested breakfast

1/2 medium grapefruit

1/2 shredded wheat biscuit

Fried egg

2 crisp bacon strips

2 slices toast (whole wheat)

1 tablespoon butter

1/4 cup top milk

5/8 cup whole milk

2 teaspoons sugar

Coffee

I sampled Mr. F.'s suggested breakfast menu this morning - without the bacon, of course. I skipped the shredded wheat as I was already eating toast with the egg. A filling meal, though frying isn't my favorite way to prepare eggs. It's tough to keep them from browning and get that yolk fully cooked. I've got half a grapefruit left over, so I'll give that another try tomorrow morning.

Today is Ironing Day, and I think I'm making some headway with this new craft o' mine. The only one of those Top Ten tips that is still eluding me: "Iron with straight strokes, with the thread of the fabric." You quilters out there must be able to recognize the "thread" right away, but this is still so mysterious to me. And in some of these synthetic blends, I can barely even discern a weave to the fabric. I think I must have learned to iron by puddling the iron about in semi-circles, so straight strokes feel very awkward. Did the '40s housewife have to maneuver the iron about in this way because the irons weren't as smooth and light as today's irons, or are "straight strokes" actually easier on the fabric?

Well, I've just finished ironing my first sheet. I tried it this first time using the "four thickness at once" method, and it didn't take too, too long. It's neatly folded and stacked up with two freshly ironed pillowcases. (They haven't looked this good since they came out of the package!) But what to do with the fitted sheet? The manual gives me no help on this topic as fitted sheets hadn't yet been invented. I'm going to have to do some additional research and leave the fitted sheet wrinkly this time 'round.

Scarf Mania

There's a wind whipping up what looks like it's going to be a lovely rainstorm this evening. I've been folding the laundry I washed this morning and thinking that if I were living 60 years ago I'd probably be rushing out to the line as we speak to bring in my clean, dry clothes before they got rained on!

While I sorted the laundry last night in preparation for today's wash, I realized just how interrelated some of these missions are going to be. Cleaning the bedroom on Thursday evenings means I'm going to have additional laundry to wash on Mondays and - because the manual takes for granted that my sheets will be ironed when they're tucked away in the linen closet - additional ironing on Tuesdays. Yep! I'm going to iron my sheets. That's a definite first here in the Jitterbug household. I suppose that means I should iron my pillowcases, too. Apparently there are two ways you can iron your sheets. One method, termed "especially careful" by the authors of the manual, also applies to tablecloths:

Fold selvedge to selvedge, right side out. Iron first on one side, then on the other. Fold again, lengthwise. Iron again on both sides. Fold to put away.

This second method must be what we'd call "quick and dirty":

Iron 4 thicknesses at once: fold hem to hem, then fold in half, bringing hem side to fold. Iron first on plain side, then on hem side.

Such a decision! Thank goodness I have 24 hours to think this one over...

The manual gives us a charming reminder of 1940s bedroom decor when they recommend that the housewife be sure to remove "dresser scarves" for laundering as she gives each bedroom its weekly cleaning. I'm guessing that a '40s housewife must have had at least twice as many dresser scarves as she had dressers if she didn't want to leave her dressers bare after cleaning the bedrooms. (Wash Day being still several days away.) I used to think that dresser scarves were all about the same shape and size, but it turns out that there are several different types of dresser scarves. According to Lily Haxworth Wallace in The New American Etiquette (1941), every bride should be equipped with the following for each bedroom of her new home:

Two bureau scarfs

Two dresser scarfs

Two vanity scarfs

Two night-stand scarfs

Multiply that by several bedrooms, and that's one hefty addition to the Monday wash! Whether your scarves were doilies or embroidered flatwork, they had to be ironed as well. What's with all the scarves, for goodness' sake? Was the look of a simple wooden surface so abhorrent?