Success With Your House Plants

While I was spending time in bed this week, I came across an article called "Success With Your House Plants" in the November 1945 issue of Better Homes and Gardens. Perfect timing - as it was just a few posts ago I was wondering what kinds of houseplants stylish in the 1940s would do well in my dark kitchen. Here's a list of houseplants from the article that are supposed to do well in little light:

Plants Known for their Flowers

Azalea

Everblooming Begonia

Christmas Cactus

Gloxinia

Impatiens

Oxalis

Shrimp Plant (Beloperone)

Plants Known for their Foliage

Airplane Plant (Chlorophytum)
Artillery Plant (Pilea)

Asparagus Fern

Rex Begonia

Boston Fern (Nephrolepis)

Bowstring Hemp (Sansevieria)

Coleus

English Ivy (Hedera)

Grape Ivy

Nephthytis

Peperomia

Philodendron

Rubber Plant (Ficus)

Any advice from those of you with greener thumbs than mine? Are the authors of this article completely wrong about any of these plants doing well in the dark - and indoors at that? Are some of these plants more likely to attract bugs than others? With sunshine and blue skies, I'm itching to get out to a nursery and pick up something new...

Daylight Discoveries

Last Saturday was the last time I did any real housekeeping, and I got a lot done - despite the fact that I was beginning to feel icky and my stomach turned over at the thought of eating the dinner I spend so much time preparing. Nevertheless, it was an interesting day and one I've been wanting to share some thoughts about ever since.

My sister was back in town, my babysitting duties were over for the time being, and I had shifted Thursday's cleaning-of-the-bedroom forward to Saturday morning. What a difference there is in housekeeping by day! It's amazing how much grime you can actually see when you're cleaning a room in broad daylight. I have a painted wooden nightstand in my bedroom and was startled to discover these rings of grime around the knobs. Where my fingers actually come in contact with the wood every time I pull a drawer open, I guess. It only took a damp cloth to clean them up, but *gasp* what other horrors must be sharing this apartment with me!

I've been trying to add a little something new to my routine in the bedroom each week. Here are the new steps added last week:

Dust high mouldings, door and window frames, window shades and Venetian blinds when necessary.

Dust high objects if necessary (mantels, high shelves, window sills, tops of bookcases, etc.).

Because I've been such a crummy housekeeper, I'm just going to take it for granted that these chores are always necessary. Better to be safe than sorry. Besides, my spartan living arrangements haven't left me very many of these kinds of things to dust as it is. No high mouldings, no window shades, no mantels, high shelves, or tops of bookcases. I do have some Venetian blinds that just attract dust like magnets. And my window sills were super grimy. Oh, yeah - here's another discovery I couldn't see when housekeeping at night: there were rusty colored stains on the wall beneath my window. Obviously water that had come in through the screen in the window at some point and dripped down the wall. I'd never seen them before cleaning the bedroom last Saturday! Just a wipe of the cloth and they were gone, but what a scary surprise.

One of the nicer surprises when cleaning during the day last weekend was hearing the sounds of cleaning coming from other apartments which look out on my courtyard. While I was unwinding the cord to my own vacuum, I could hear other people vacuuming their apartments. There was a kind of kinship in the fact that we were all spending this Saturday morning indoors making our homes a little happier. We tend to think of '40s housewives as leading isolated lives when they were at home day in and day out, but I'll bet they felt a kind of camaraderie as they watched their neighbors hanging the laundry out to dry or heard somebody in the building running a vacuum cleaner.

I did find a little clarification on the mattress turning question when I was reading the manual's tips on the care of innerspring mattresses:

Turn the mattress top to bottom one week, and end to end the next week.

Now if I could only think of a way to remember which direction I've turned the mattress the week before...

Perception v. Reality

Feeling under the weather is so dreary. I guess colds and viruses have their way with us all every once in awhile, but I can't wait to feel better again! I looked at my blog today and couldn't believe how many days have gone by since I felt like posting - or eating - or, well, doing much of anything. What a week!

The chores I do these days are done out of pure desperation. Run out of clothes (well, good clothes)? Guess I'd better haul myself down to the laundromat. No time or energy for sorting or turning out pockets or mulling over modern fabrics. I made my bed once a few days ago when I couldn't stand not having the bedcovers tucked in all tidily. I have no appetite still, so I'm eating catch as catch can. My housekeeping routine flew a white flag to illness several days ago.

So I'll make this a brief post. I noticed that my one-month mission in analyzing my food dollar ran its course a couple days ago. Here is how America's Housekeeping Book (1945) recommends that housewives spend their "food dollar":

It helps also occasionally to keep a detailed food record for a couple of weeks or a month with separate totals for cost of cereal foods; fruits and vegetables; meats, fish and eggs; milk and cheese; and in a final class, fats, sugar and miscellaneous items. On a modest income, in order to get a balanced diet, not far from 1/5 of the food money should go for each of these five groups.

As embarrassing as it's been to bare how my own food dollar breaks down, I guess things can only improve from here!

Fats, Sugar and Miscellaneous Items = $247.04 (66%)

Fruits and Vegetables = $40.40 (11%)

Cereal Foods = $37.95 (10%)

Milk and Cheese = $30.64 (8%)

Eggs, Beans, and Soy = $19.64 (5%)

Part of the reason the first category is so large is because I eat many more frozen, prepared foods than is good for my pocketbook or my waistline. When you have a deathly fear of doing dishes or dirtying up a kitchen you don't want to clean, reheating frozen foods is a heck of a lot easier than cooking a meal from scratch. Using multiple pots and pans. Spilling things on the stovetop.

I am very surprised by the total I'm spending on food. In one month, I spent $375.67. What I thought I was spending on food was about $250-275 per month. Quite a difference between perception and reality! I'm sure that as I reform my dinner habits - slowly, but surely - there will be some changes here. So I'll try this mini-mission again in several months and plan on seeing some improvements.

The Care and Feeding of Invalids

I've got lots to dish about my experience in making my first 1945 dinner menu, but I've been been sick - and pretty queasy all day long - so food is not exactly on the top of my list right now! I'll save that for tomorrow.

I consulted the manual this morning to see if its authors had any advice for the '40s housewife on caring for invalids. Nada - but I did find some words of advice in my cookbook on feeding invalids:

When possible, remove all bottles and suggestions of medicine from the room.

Meals should be served at regular intervals...

Before serving the meal, be sure that the patient is ready for it, with hands and face washed; and that provision has been made for placing the tray where it will be convenient for him or his attendant to reach it. [It's too bad the housewife can't put that attendant to work on all these preparations!]

The tray should be covered with a clean napkin or tray cover, and the dishes and serving should be very dainty. A flower or sprig of green will often take an invalid's mind from the food, and the attractiveness of the whole will tempt him to eat what would otherwise remain untouched.

Serving the meal in courses will add to the interest.

Invalids will often take liquid diet through a straw...

Remove the tray and dishes as soon as the patient has finished eating. In contagious diseases, sterilize everything used in the sick-room by boiling in water for ten minutes.

They then go on to describe all kinds of horrific dishes, from a milk/yeast-cake/sugar beverage to cold molded barley gruel. Blech! My stomach is doing somersaults just at the thought...

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!