My Daily Constitutional

It's an unusually cool, breezy Saturday, and I'm sitting down with a cup of coffee before embarking on my housework today. Here's one sign of how much my habits around the house have changed since November: I bought a tall container of creamer maybe a year ago. You know, the dry, powdery type. Well, it made sense at the time. I couldn't see keeping these big cartons of milk about the house when the only thing I was using milk for was my coffee. On the few occasions I make coffee at home, I would sooner than not find it had already gone bad. Flash forward five months. I haven't touched that creamer in weeks, at least. It sits at the back of a cupboard waiting to be of service again, but I always have fresh milk in the house now. I need it for my breakfasts, I need it for my vintage dinner on the weekends... what a change!

I remembered to pull out the scale yesterday morning and did a rare weigh-in at home. So here's my official starting weight for this new mission: 194. I'm planning to weigh in once a week - on Friday mornings. I dutifully drank my glass of water yesterday morning and walked for 29 minutes during my lunch hour. This morning, another glass of water and I'm planning to walk at the park today for 30 minutes (+ 6 minutes to make up for my short walks on Thursday and Friday). I also cleaned about 2/3 of my kitchen last night, so I need to finish that this morning, go to the park for my workout, then head to the supermarket to do my weekly shopping. Here's the menu I'm planning for my 1945 dinner this weekend:

Stuffed Cabbage Leaves

Tomato Sauce

Buttered Peas

Carrot Sticks

Baked Caramel Custard

The Stuffed Cabbage Leaves recipe sounds very interesting and possibly delicious. We'll see! The whole menu feels very springlike - apropos for a supper on Easter Sunday. I'm even going to shell some fresh sugar peas for the hot vegetable dish...

One of the challenges for me when it comes to walking is definitely going to be timing. If I don't walk as soon as my lunch hour begins, I know that I won't have the willpower to get out there and do it halfway in. Been there, done that. Once I'm sitting comfortably at the table with my feet up in the next chair reading a magazine and eating my lunch --- there's no way I'll get up and go out there to walk! I know myself too well to take that chance, so out I go at 12:00 p.m. This is where those hearty vintage breakfasts are going to come in handiest. I need that long-term energy that's going to last me from 7:00 in the morning 'til I'm finished with that mid-day walk. A growling tummy doesn't make me any happier about postponing lunch for another half hour!

I'm trying to keep a brisk pace. I certainly ought to start stretching my calves beforehand, though, because my shins feel very tight during my workout and that could probably be alleviated with a little stretching. It's much too sunny to be outdoors at high noon without a hat or cap and/or some sunblock, so I need to give some thought to keeping some of these things in my office. I'm really trying to head off some of these minor discomforts that could otherwise end up as excuses for skipping a workout, do you know what I mean?

One of the biggest things I tend to do to sabotage an exercise plan is to start worrying about how I'm going to be able to walk outdoors once we're experiencing full-blown summer here in the desert. (These walks give me way too much time to think!) In about a month, temps will be at the 100-degree mark everyday and there's no relief even in the mornings and evenings. It's relentlessly sunny here, so there's not even the occasional cloudy day to enjoy outdoors. You're trapped inside 24/7 from about the end of May until the first of October. It's not even comfortable outside at midnight. I've been trying to come up with some exercise options for the summer - and I think I've come up with a few possible solutions - but the trick is not to let worrying about what's to come in a month keep me from exercising here and now. No matter what kind of challenges I'm facing come May, I've got to enjoy the privilege of being able to walk outdoors for as long as it lasts.

I'll talk to you later. My kitchen is calling...

One Big Glass

So far, so good.

I drank a glass of water first thing this morning. (How big is "big" in 1946 standards? I drank eight ounces.) At noon, I walked for 24 minutes. I was bummed that the route I plotted didn't end up taking a full half-hour, but I'll make it a little longer tomorrow and see if I can solve that problem. While I wait for my mattress, bed covers, and pillows to air, I thought I'd pop online and celebrate a successful first day - of many, I hope!

Many of you asked for more on the grooming routine in the 1946 issue of Good Housekeeping. Here it is in full:

GOOD-MORNING!

Out of bed and into the bathroom -

1. Drink one big glass of water.

2. Brush teeth carefully.

3. Wash face gently but thoroughly with a clean washcloth, a good mild soap, and plenty of warm water. Splash on cold to tone your skin - and open your eyes!

4. Pat on a bit of powder to take away that soap-and-water shine.

5. Put on some bright, pretty lipstick, making the edges neat and blotting away the excess.

6. Brush all the nighttime tangles from hair, and comb carefully into place, pinning securely.

7. Take a last look, to be sure you are impeccable from top to toe.

GOOD-NIGHT!

Out of your clothes and into the tub -

1. Coat yourself thoroughly with a susdy lather, and don't spare the elbow grease. Rinse well, doing face separately with water from the faucet.

2. Rub yourself dry, so that you tingle all over and chest and back turn a healthy pink.

3. Don't forget the deodorant under your arms.

4. Give your crowning glory a good swishing with the brush, dampen ends and pin up curls.

5. Brush teeth carefully.

6. Down with a nice, long glass of water - and so to bed.

ONCE A WEEK WITHOUT FAIL

1. Shampoo hair, and rinse six or seven times until it squeaks "clean." Perhaps you might need a little vinegar or lemon juice or a special rinse to bring out some "sunlit" luster.

2. Clip toenails.

3. File fingernails, push back cuticle, and apply a polish to go with your lipstick.

4. Defuzz legs and underarms.

5. Pluck scraggly eyebrows.

6. Go over clothes, and mend, clean, and brush as necessary.

The article is designed for high school-aged girls, so the routine is much more basic than a grown woman might have followed --- but it's a good place to start. I think. Some of this sounds a bit scary to me, but I'll just take it one step at a time for now.

There's nothing wrong with a glass of water first thing in the a.m., but I'm curious about the timing. Was it thought to be an aid to the digestive system? Something to perk up the appetite for breakfast? Or was it meant to benefit the skin? Roxanne mentioned in her comment on yesterday's post that our bodies are quite dehydrated when we wake up in the morning. Today in 2009 we know all kinds of benefits that water can have - from making our insides run more smoothly to flushing toxins from our bodies - but I wonder what it was in 1946 that prompted the woman writing this article to recommend drinking a glass of water first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Is it because people weren't prone to drinking very much water during the day, so she tried to squeeze a little in by making it part of a grooming ritual?

Week Twenty-one: The Mission

The accepted modern silhouette is slender. Try to attain it in whatever way is easiest for you. The slim uncorseted look is especially youthful and graceful.

Lily Haxworth Wallace, The New American Etiquette (1941)

As we all know, there was more to the model 1940s housewife than housework. Women of the era were expected to practice good grooming habits throughout their lives. And even middle-aged and older women were encouraged to wear corsets if necessary to achieve a more youthful figure.

I can remember as a teenager being much less interested in makeup, fashion and hairstyles than my peers. I was a little interested, but nowhere near fascinated enough to spend hours poring over fashion magazines, practicing hairstyles, or hanging out at the mall. I guess I was too busy with music. Fast forward nearly two decades, and I'm still uninterested. But I can't get away with that as nicely as I could when I was young. (That youthful glow can make up for a lot!) When you're in your teens, it's the natural, outdoorsy look. When you're in your thirties, it's just frumpy. Frowsy and frumpy.

Like many women in their thirties, my weight has a biography almost as long as my own. Suffice it to say, it's been an issue since I was 18 and my metabolism finally hit puberty. I've had chubby times, slender times, and long periods when I was able to maintain a great figure through hard work. Between 2003 and 2005, though, I gained 75-80 lbs. and have carried most of that weight around for the last few years. Okay, it's very hard for me to put the final figure down in black and white --- but if I can be even half as successful taking the approach that's working for my housekeeping and applying it to my weight problem, it will be worth it --- *deep breath* - I weigh 196 today. I should say "about" 196, because I only get on a scale when I go to the doctor's office and it's been a month or so. Do I beat myself up about it? A little. But what frightens me more is how accepting I've become about the extra weight.

So the frump needs to go. I'm cleaning house now in every sense of the word and all this extra "clutter" needs to be dispensed with. Easier said than done - as I'm sure many of you know from personal experience. I'm encouraged by the fact that the approach I've taken to becoming a better housekeeper is working. The historical side of it intrigues me enough to get things done even when it seems like torture. Maybe this can help me in losing this weight.

There are no mysteries here. We've known forever that all it takes is to moderate your diet and exercise more. They knew sixty years ago that there weren't any magic answers to this age-old issue: "Try to attain it in whatever way is easiest for you." During my twenties, walking was the key. I walked 40 minutes a day, seven days a week. So I'm going to trust that experience and put it to work again. Walking isn't particularly easy when you live in a sketchy city neighborhood, but I do work in a good location for walking and there's the park on weekends. So here is my three-fold mission for the next week:

Fitness
Walk 30 minutes a day, five days a week. I'll probably aim for three times on weekdays (during the lunch hour) and both days on weekends.

Diet
I'm going to knock the empty calorie breakfast menus off the meal plan, i.e. French toast, griddlecakes, and waffles. I don't particularly like them, and they don't do me any favors energy-wise.

Grooming

I came across a grooming routine for teenage girls in the October 1946 issue of Good Housekeeping. Seven steps for the morning, six steps for the evening, and six items to be done "once a week without fail." I'm adopting the first of these this week. First thing in the morning, as soon as you get out of bed and go into the bathroom:

Drink one big glass of water.

Wish me luck... The fitness plan is truly going to be my toughest mission yet!

In Stores and Shops

As the time for a new mission draws near, I find myself wondering what I've learned when it comes to marketing during the last couple weeks. First, I undershop. That's from years of never picking up more than a basket of things (okay, sometimes a very heavy basket of things) when I went to the grocery store. In this era of roomy refrigerator-freezers and skyrocketing carbon emissions, I need to make my weekly trip to the supermarket count. Can't be afraid to pull one of those grocery carts out of the carrel. And I wouldn't want to shop without a list, but making at least one trip up or down each aisle often jogs my memory about items I may be running a little low on at home.

Mind you, I don't want to overbuy. Something I've noticed about modern grocery shopping is that I never see anybody walking about the grocery store with calculators anymore. And I can't remember the last time I saw anybody using - or used myself - one of the scales in the produce department. Since cash was replaced by checks, debit cards, and credit cards, people have probably become a lot less conscious of the amount they're spending on groceries. I wouldn't have really given this any thought until my wallet was stolen and - while waiting two weeks for my new checks and debit card - I found myself shopping on a cash-only basis. When you've only got a finite amount of money available to you at the checkout counter, you become super conscious of every dime! Things you thought you couldn't possibly do without when you were grocery shopping with a debit card, i.e. real maple syrup, become a little easier to sacrifice when you're actually looking at parting with a five and two ones for it. (Suddenly, store brand artificial maple syrup looked pretty good to me!) Shopping with cash only is definitely anxiety provoking, but it does force you to reassess your priorities.

I'm launching a new mission on Thursday. While I continue working away at this kitchen-cleaning/weekly grocery shopping thing, I'm taking a brief side trip from new housekeeping missions and venturing into the world of vintage beauty. Stay tuned...

I'll leave you with some advice from Lily Haxworth Wallace's New American Etiquette (1941) on etiquette for the shopper. These tips are geared toward women shopping for clothing and other items, but they have some value, too, for those of us making our way to the grocery store.

Many women who make a pretense of fine manners become rude yokels in the department stores and specialty shops. They hunt for what they want with the culture of hungry wolves stalking their prey. They order salespersons and other store employees about, they seize and handle many articles they do not want and discard them carelessly, they rant and complain and shower their indignation upon an offending salesgirl if anything at all should happen to displease them. They act as though the possession of a few dollars in their purse or an A1 credit rating gives them the right to determine the policies of the store and to insult every one working in it. [I guess the A1 credit rating was the '40s predecessor of the FICO score!]

A lady is never rude to subordinates and those who might be classed as her social inferiors. She knows that the men and girls behind the counters are trying hard to please - their jobs depend on it - and their jobs are important things to them and perhaps several others. Accordingly the lady addresses the salesgirl with a smile and is free with her courtesies. "Please" and "Thank you" come as naturally to her lips in the store as they do in her drawing room.

The lady never takes the clerk to task because the accounting department made a mistake in last month's bill. She is directed to the proper clerk or official for that mistake and she politely asks for a correction. She does not raise her voice and she does not insist, "...that I believe this store employs the most stupid people in the world."

Sink or Swim

Let's not forget the sink!

America's Housekeeping Book (1945) recommends that the sink be the last item to receive some attention during the weekly cleaning of the kitchen. But last is not least. The sink played a pivotal role as the housewife cleaned each of the other appliances and - just as she was about to hang up her dishcloth - it deserved a good, thorough scrubbing. The manual includes tips for both the ubiquitous baked enamel sink...

...as well as the (then) much less common stainless steel sink. Mine is stainless steel, so let me take a closer look at those instructions:

Monel or Stainless Steel

1. These metals are acid-resistant.

2. Soap and water or a mild scouring powder will clean the surface. After rinsing, use a clean dry cloth to dry the surface and produce a soft sheen.

3. A patina is built up with use and in consequence these metals are increasingly easy to clean.

You know, I was just thinking I'd like to get a better shine from my sink after washing it. I've been using Comet and a cellulose sponge - and they do the job, but the sink doesn't quite give me that shiny payoff I've been looking for from a kitchen I've spent three hours on! Maybe all I need to do is buff it with a dry dish towel. For those of you (like me) who are curious what "Monel" might be, it was the brand name for a nickel/copper product resembling stainless steel. Monel was introduced in 1906 and, by the early '30s, was being used for kitchen sinks.

The manual also gives some advice on keeping your drain trap as sanitary as possible. (Do we even have drain traps any longer? I have no idea... There are loads of ads in 1940s magazines for methods to defeat those dangerous gases emanating from your drain trap.) There's also a tip or two for cleaning metal fixtures (faucets, "towel bars," soap dish, sink strainer, dish drainer, etc.):

Chromium: Wash with a cloth or sponge wrung out of soapy water. Polish dry with a clean cloth.

Nickel: Wash with soapy water. Apply fine scouring powder or metal polish. Let dry. Polish with a soft cloth. Corrosion may be removed with vinegar or lemon juice.

Oh, dear. I don't think I have any idea what metal my kitchen faucet is made from! Housewives in the '40s had to become very well acquainted with the materials in their homes - the metals, the fabrics, the woods. Without knowing the materials they were dealing with, they couldn't have kept things clean with such a limited range of cleansers and tools. We're not quite so intimate with our own homes today.

Potato-rama

Boy, am I tired of potatoes!

Potatoes were clearly a staple in the 1940s diet. Every one of these 1945 dinner menus consists of five courses (besides the meat, which I'm skipping since I'm a vegetarian):

1) Starchy vegetable (potatoes, sometimes rice)

2) Hot vegetable (cabbage, carrots, beets, peas, etc.)

3) Cold vegetable/fruit salad

4) Bread/rolls (which I'm skipping - way too many carbs in one meal!)

5) Dessert

I'm getting tired of the potatoes - and I'm only eating a vintage dinner once a week. Imagine what it would have been like to eat them in one form or another every night! Not only must the taste of them have gotten tiresome, but all the prep. Every night, Mother would find herself scrubbing and peeling potatoes. She'd probably have a pot in which she never cooked anything but potatoes! I guess you'd just have to get very creative with them, which could explain with my cookbook contains more than 30 potato recipes. Tonight's dish was definitely one of the simpler of the bunch:

Mashed Potatoes

Boiled Cabbage

Tomato and Lettuce Salad

Brownie a la Mode

I've never cooked with cabbage on my own before. But it was simple to prep, a quick boil, and blended nicely with the potatoes. One thing I've noticed in the cookbook is that the vegetables are always seasoned by the cook. They're buttered, salted, and peppered before being brought to the table. Did seasonings and condiments even make it to the dinner table in those days, or were they strictly for use in the kitchen?

Here's something funny... The cookbook instructed me to scald the tomatoes in order to remove the skin and chill them until it was time to assemble the salad. How unusual! I know that people canning their own tomato sauce often peel them beforehand, but I'd never imagined it being done for a salad. I guess I always thought the crisp snap of the skin was part of the allure. The recipe for this particular salad called for me to add capers to the French Dressing.

The Brownie recipe made a good ol' fashioned Brownie with a soft, milk chocolate flavor and lots of pecans.

*****

BROWNIES

1/2 cup sifted cake flour

Dash salt

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

3 tablespoons shortening

1/2 cup sugar

2 tablespoons strained honey

2 tablespoons corn sirup

1 egg, beaten

1 ounce (square) chocolate, melted

1 tablespoon hot water

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup pecans, chopped

Sift flour, salt and baking powder together. Cream shortening with sugar until fluffy. Add honey and sirup and continue creaming. Add egg and mix well. Add melted chocolate. Add dry ingredients, hot water and vanilla and blend well. Mix in pecans and spread mixture in 1 (8-inch) pan. Bake in moderate oven (350 degrees F.) about 20 minutes. Makes 36.

*****

There's the trick. That serving size is how so many women of the '40s were able to enjoy dessert every night and guard those hourglass figures. I tried dividing my batch of Brownies into 36 pieces and just couldn't do it! Even 16 pieces made very small Brownies. Brownies about the size our modern supermarket labels as bite-size!!! I topped my Brownie off with a small scoop of the banana nut ice cream leftover from last weekend.

Now if I could just master that French Dressing recipe...

Growing Up

I was getting a little worried about my new houseplants this morning. Especially the coleus, which had lost a little of the brightness to its color. So I decided to give them a weekend, too. They spent the afternoon lounging about on my sunny landing. Fresh air, warm sunshine... I hope it did them good! It still gets pretty chilly here at night, so I brought them back in until tomorrow afternoon.

Though I ended up spending the morning with my nieces at a storytime, I cleaned my kitchen this afternoon in about two and a half hours. Mind you, I have lots still to add to this particular routine - floors, small appliances, etc. - but I'm encouraged by being able to do it all "in one sitting." Without having to take an extended break about 2/3 of the way through. Maybe I just need to get things started really early on Friday evenings.

Well, I dashed off to the supermarket while I was still feeling so energized (strangely enough). Reminded myself after picking up the shopping basket that it was time for me to approach grocery shopping again like a grown up and headed back outside to start anew - this time with a shopping cart.

It felt very good coming home to put my groceries away in a clean kitchen. And knowing that, with the exception of some "light marketing" on Wednesday evening, I won't be making any rushed trips to the grocery store to pick up one thing or another that I forgot. I had planned my breakfast menus for the week, planned my vintage dinner for tomorrow night. My shopping list in hand, I felt an unusual sense of control as I wheeled about the supermarket. 50s gal has mentioned this sense of control-over-her-own-destiny in her own blog, and today is the first time I've really experienced that feeling myself. I don't know quite how to describe it yet, but there's something about all those chores I did today - and shopping with a big ol' cart - that makes me feel like a grown up. What is it about housework that makes the difference?

On a shallower note, I was thrilled to spy some chicory in the produce section. That's mentioned time and again in these '40s salad recipes. It's totally not what I thought it would look like! Speaking of salads, here's the menu for tomorrow night's 1945 dinner:

Mashed Potatoes

Boiled Cabbage

Fresh Tomato Salad

Brownie a la Mode

A New Kind of Perfect

I got a call last night from an old friend and we had a great chat. Caught up, had some laughs. It was nice. I'd just started in on my bedroom when he called - stripped the bed, taken the covers outside on the landing to air, turned the mattress - but, by the time we said goodnight, it was late and I was yawning. I made up the bed with clean sheets, finished my evening chores, and called it a day. So I was happy to get back to work this evening and finish the job. This will actually give me a chance tomorrow to see if I can clean all my of kitchen - or even just a little bit more of it than normal - in the one morning. I'd better set my alarm, though. That Saturday morning beauty sleep is not a busy housewife's best friend.

Neither is perfectionism.

It seems like it should be, right? You'd think that somebody who was a perfectionist would keep a spick and span house. But it's always been an obstacle for me. On the rare occasions that I cleaned house over the years, I would be frustrated not to have the time and energy to get every nook and cranny shining. What I'm discovering these days is that even though I can't possibly get a room perfectly clean on any given day, if I keep after it regularly, I get to every nook and cranny once in awhile. And the room begins to look a little cleaner as a whole with every month that passes. It's a different kind of perfection. One I haven't been acquainted with before...

Well, it's late and there are a few dishes in the sink that need cleaning before I go to bed. I've got lots to do tomorrow morning!

"A shining, crystal-clear window"

Every time I clean my bedroom, I've been adding one new task to my list of chores. Instead of jumping in feet first and failing miserably, I thought I'd start with the basics and work my way slowly to a picture perfect bedroom. And it's been working. I haven't even really noticed that tiny increase in work from week to week. This was a pretty intimidating mission at first, so I guess this might be a good way to approach each of the missions that intimidates me.

Last Thursday, my brand new task for the week was washing the bedroom windows. America's Housekeeping Book (1945) dedicates an entire chapter to "Windows and Window Fittings." And why shouldn't they? Windows were one way that even a stranger walking by on the street could form an impression of your skill at housekeeping. Take a look inside:

A shining, crystal-clear window is a real source of pride. How long it will stay clear and sparkling is a moot question. The answer depends on the weather, the amount of dust and soot in the air, the number of times sticky little fingers are pressed against it, and so on...

No matter what method and materials you choose, one word of caution is necessary. Don't ever sit on the window sill to wash the outside of the window panes, and do not allow a household employee to sit there either. With most windows it is possible to raise and lower the panes to get at the outside window without relinquishing a firm footing. If this isn't true of your windows, or if you live in an apartment building, then you must call in a professional window cleaner to wash the outside.

Schnikey! Should I be checking the Yellow Pages for a window cleaning service? I don't think my landlord has any plans to clean the outsides of these windows. They're pretty streaked. The manual immediately mentions the "liquid cleaners" that you could buy for windows, but here are a few alternatives. A word of caution: some of these are not for the faint of heart.

2 tablespoons household ammonia to 2 quarts warm water, or

2 tablespoons vinegar to 2 quarts warm water, or

1 tablespoon borax to 2 quarts warm water, or

1 tablespoon kerosene to 2 quarts warm water, or

1/2 cup denatured alcohol (POISON) to 2 quarts warm water

All these solutions are applied with a clean, soft lintless cloth or a cellulose or natural sponge. Wipe them off with a rubber squeegee, a clean damp chamois or soft dry cloth.

I made a solution of warm water and apple cider vinegar, and it did the job. A nice clean shine, though it didn't coax that delicious squeak from the glass that Windex makes. (How does it make that squeaky sound?) Windex has been around since 1933 and whoever owned it did a heck of a job with the marketing. Ads for Windex are everywhere in women's magazines of the '40s.

Here's one great tip from the manual: "Never work in direct sunlight - the window panes dry too quickly and are apt to look streaked."