47 + 3 = 50

Phew! The scale is headed in the right direction again... I weighed in at 144 this morning which means I've officially lost 50 lbs. since adopting this vintage fitness and reducing plan last April.

50 lbs!!! I couldn't have imagined seven months ago actually being able to make that happen. I thought then I'd be thrilled - and content - just to trim off about 20 lbs. Just to make getting around a little bit easier, make the clothes fit a little bit more comfortably, make my face look a little less puffy. Well, "content" isn't good enough any more. I'm pleased as punch with the progress I've made (just this weekend, I realized my cheekbones are starting to be noticeable again!), but I've got a long road to go. 27 more lbs. to reach goal. I'd like to be comfortably in a size 8 --- right now I'm a snug 10. And I'd like to be off the blood pressure medication entirely --- I'm now taking just 1/4 of the dose I used to take. The holidays are bound to take a toll, but I'm determined to continue losing a little something over the next several weeks!

One of the radio programs I've been feasting on these days - in lieu of leftovers! - is The Goldbergs. Known as The Rise of the Goldbergs when it premiered in 1929, this popular daytime serial could be heard every weekday on NBC for some 20 years before it moved to television in 1949. The program follows the ever-dramatic lives of Molly and Jake Goldberg, a Jewish couple living in the Bronx, who move to a farm in Connecticut with their children, Sammy and Rosalie, in an effort to improve the family fortune. The Goldbergs was written by Gertrude Berg, who also starred as the Goldberg matriarch.

I adore this show! Can't get enough of it. Many episodes have disappeared - such was the fate with most soap operas - but there are a few long runs of surviving episodes that allow you to follow along with a handful of storylines. I've been listening these days to a storyline from the early spring of 1941. Sammy Goldberg has fallen in love with a girl named Sylvia Allison and, despite his mother's suspicions and doubt about the girl, has gone to Sylvia's home in the South where Mr. Allison has agreed to employ Sammy while the couple plan a wedding. Molly, Jake, and Rosalie have driven South to attend the wedding only to learn that Sammy has discovered Sylvia's shocking deceptions. Alas, she was apparently entangled with her sister's husband at one point! Will Molly be able to save Sammy from marrying Sylvia out of guilt? Is Sylvia emotionally unbalanced and likely to hurt herself or Sammy if she fears losing him? Can Molly heal the Allison family, too? Stay tuned for tomorrow's visit "with that lovable family," the Goldbergs...

One of the most enchanting things about The Goldbergs is the ads. Oxydol was sponsoring the program at this time and their promotional spots give you such insight into some of the trials and tribulations of washday I'd never really considered before. Laundry was a very public exercise in these days before automatic dryers. In 2009, we can do our laundry at any time of day and on any day of the week and nobody's the wiser. We can wear our robes (if that's all we've got left) while we do our laundry and can cheaply replace most anything that doesn't get clean enough. For most 1940s housewives, there was no such thing as privacy when it came to laundry. A women had to literally "air her dirty laundry" on Mondays by hanging her clean wash on clotheslines that were in view of all her neighbors and passersby. When it came to laundry, there were two measures of success that must have preyed on many a housewife's mind:

1. How early are you able to get that wash on the line?
You may never have been the first woman to get it out there, but it'd be awful to be the last! It must have been a special point of pride for a housewife who was able to hang her wash up to dry early - maybe before it was even time to begin preparing lunch for herself and any children at home. The Oxydol ads point up the idea that with this revolutionary new soap you won't need to boil your laundry or use one of those old fashioned scrub boards. Just a gentle wash in Oxydol, with a little extra attention to stains, and Mondays need no longer be your least favorite day of the week. With the wash dispatched by the time The Goldbergs came on the air at noon, you'd have time to "rest" --- "more time to enjoy yourself."

2. Is your laundry white enough?
Again, you'd probably never have the whitest wash in the neighborhood, but wouldn't your family be humiliated if there were greasy, yellow linens on your clothesline? Oxydol ads promised listeners "the kind of washes women turn to admire, even envy." Whoever the marketing folks behind these ads might have been, they'd clearly found a way to use feminine competitiveness to their advantage. There's nothing new under the sun when it comes to that. Women still pick each other apart more harshly then men do --- and I think we're always much more concerned with how other women will judge us on whatever accomplishments society currently deems "feminine" than we are about how men will judge us on those same accomplishments. That's still something the advertising business uses to drive profits.

A white wash was truly a challenge during the winter when women living in northern climates weren't able to hang the wash outdoors and take advantage of the bleaching effects of sunlight. Not to fear! Housewives who had to dry their laundry in basements or attics wouldn't have to worry about a "dingy and gray" wash if they'd only pick up a box of Oxydol on their next trip to the grocer's.

Here's something this liquid detergent user never thought about in relation to laundry soap. One of the points Oxydol uses to sell its product is the idea that you won't spend Mondays sneezing from the clouds of dust that your laundry soap raises every time you pour some out. For housewives who wanted to get to know this detergent a little better before investing in a box, Oxydol partnered with Apex, a washing machine manufacturer, to make a special offer during the spring of 1941. For a limited time, if you stopped by the showroom of your local Apex dealer, he would personally demonstrate the merits of Oxydol in one of those new "time-control" Apex washers.

All this talk of a laundry has got me all excited for tomorrow's wash. Almost makes me wish there were neighbors around to chat in awed whispers if I had the whitest wash on the street. You know I like a challenge!

Appetizing!

One of the things I've discovered after long years in Singledom is that people take it for granted that you're unable to cook or bake --- and on occasions such as Thanksgiving you are rarely asked to bring anything more than appetizers or something you can purchase.

To be honest, there have been years when this was a relief to me. Throughout my twenties - when we usually celebrated Thanksgiving with my older sister's in-laws - I was always in charge of pickles and olives. (Mind you, they had to be just the right kind of pickles and olives. For our family, no Thanksgiving table would be truly complete without a dish of sweet gherkins and pimento-stuffed green olives.) Since moving to the Southwest two years ago, I celebrate Thanksgivings with my younger sister's in-laws. And now I'm in charge of appetizers. Guess I'm moving up in the world!

This particular crowd doesn't eat all that much before dinner, so I'll keep it simple today. I'm planning one hot appetizer (artichoke parmesan spread with assorted crackers) and one cold appetizer (broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, and celery with hummus). On second thought, maybe they do eat a lot. Check out some of these much simpler appetizers from vintage Thanksgiving menus... Next year, I'm totally just bringing a can of fruit cocktail. (Just kidding!)

from the menu at Camp Beauregard, Louisiana (1940)
Fruit Cocktail

from an "all-Washington" menu, Mt. Adams Sun (1940)
Oyster Cocktail

from the St. Petersburg Times (November 23, 1940)
Shrimp Cocktail
Cheese
Paprika Pastry Stars

from the Army Thanksgiving menu (1941)
Shrimp Cocktail
Celery
Olives

from The New American Etiquette (1941)
Fruit Cocktail
Celery
Olives

from an "all-Florida" menu, Evening Independent (1942)
Oyster or Shrimp Cocktail with Toasted Wafers

from four menus in the St. Petersburg Times (November 16, 1942)
Cranberry Ice or Fruit Frappe

Chilled Sweet Cider

Shrimp Cocktail

Cider Cocktails

from the WAACs Thanksgiving menu (1942)
Fruit Cocktail
Celery
Olives
Pickles

from the Army Thanksgiving menu (1943)
Fruit Cup

from the OPA-suggested Thanksgiving menu (1944)
Fruit Cocktail

from the U.S. armed forces "master" Thanksgiving menu (1944)
Grapefruit Juice

from two menus in The American Woman's Cook Book (1945)
Grapefruit Baskets
Olives

Grapefruit

from the menu at the Naval Air Station, Arlington, Virginia (1945)
Fruit Cocktail

from the White House Thanksgiving menu (1946)
Celery and Olives

from the Army Thanksgiving menu (1946)
Stuffed Celery
Pickles
Olives

from The Evening Independent (November 26, 1947)
Fruit Cup

I'll be giving an extra word of thanks this Thanksgiving Day for the news I received from my surgeon's office yesterday afternoon: "cancer free."

A blessed and happy Thanksgiving Day to you all...

Dorothy Dix Says...

This week's topic: How to deal with a husband who might be seeing another woman? Dorothy Dix lights a fire under the suspicious wife in this column first printed on April 12, 1940. What do you think of her answer? Is Ms. Dix naive or is her advice sound?

Dear Miss Dix: I have a bad case of the jitters and here is the reason: An old flame of my husband's has come back to town, after having lived in the East for several years, and he has been seen out with her. The first time I heard of it I wasn't so terribly upset, as there was another gentleman with them, so I took it for granted that the other man was her escort. But since then my husband and the lady have been seen alone and I feel sure that he still thinks a great deal of her. She isn't a young woman any more, but they tell me she still retains much of her good looks. I must admit that the lady in question has always been a most wonderful character and has lived a fine, clean life. Yet I am simply bursting to let him know that he isn't putting anything over on me and that I know she is back in town and that they have been seen together two or three times. Shall I do this, or would you just let the affair ride?

WORRIED.

Answer - You are one of the women who explain why husbands have to lie to their wives, and why they have to do things secretly and undercover when they would much rather be frank and open about them.

A perfectly commonplace thing has happened that no doubt your husband would like to talk over with you, but your idiotic jealousy forces him to keep silent about it to save a scene. He can't say to you: "Mary Jane," or whatever her name is, "is in town and I met her on the street and took her to lunch, " because if he did you would raise the roof. Still less can he suggest your inviting her to dinner, so if he sees her at all he has to do it on the sly and make an affair of something that is nothing.

Can't you see how silly you are acting? You are burned up because this middle-aged woman who hasn't been home for years comes back to her old town. In heaven's name, what significance is there in that? Isn't it something that everybody in the world does? And if your husband and she were friends or even sweethearts years ago, are you naive enough to think that they are still in love, when each of them has married and had a different life and been happy and satisfied?

Don't you know that if she had designs on him she would have found some means to get in contact with him years ago? Don't you know that if he were still in love with her that he would have gone to see her? You couldn't have kept them apart. But neither one has existed for the other except just as a pleasant memory, as every man and woman have for their boy and girl sweethearts.

Haven't you intelligence enough to know that the sure cure for any youthful romance is to meet the beloved one after the lapse of years? For time does things to all of us that dispels the glamour that once encircled us.

My advice to you is to take counsel with your common sense instead of your jealousy. Tell your husband that you know his friend is in town. Call upon her and invite her to dinner.

Believe me, she has no designs upon him and you are torturing yourself needlessly.

Let Them Eat Cake!

I've been struggling with the same 2 lbs. for about a month now... Weighed in at 147 - again - this morning. Could this be the dreaded plateau? Or is it just that my body's been through the wringer during the last few days and I'm retaining water? All I know is that I weighed in at 143 before going into surgery on Thursday. (It was a great moment!) I'm slowly but surely taking up my exercises again. The walking feels good, but I'm being extra careful with any of the stretches, etc. that involve my chest or arms. I indulged in a little bit of "comfort eating" on Thursday evening and Friday, so I'm trying to rein that in as well. I'm not beating myself up about it. These 2 lbs. may disappear just as quickly as they reappeared.

Otherwise, I seem to be healing normally. I'm still taking the ibuprofen and using cold compresses to keep the swelling down, but there doesn't seem to be any bruising yet at the site of the incision. And I don't look lopsided either! I was a little worried at the news that this mass was 2 cm. in diameter --- my breasts aren't big enough these days for 2 cm. to go unnoticed.

Hmmm. I wonder if there's a fun way to segue from breast size to oven temperatures...

I've been baking a cake this morning for my father's birthday. My folks arrived in town yesterday afternoon for the winter. I'm not sure they're feeling very festive - it hasn't yet been two weeks since we lost Nana - but I know they're relieved to be here and we'd like to mark the occasion in some way. It's not a fancy cake. I'd love to have had the energy to try some vintage cake and icing recipes. It's just a Betty Crocker mix for a butter pecan cake with some coconut pecan frosting. From a can. Eek! Sacrilege. I am baking it in a chiffon cake pan, though, and that's a very '40s shape.

The thing I wanted to say was that I noticed that the times and temperatures given on the back of the cake mix box are right on the money when it comes to my oven. Now this definitely isn't the case for me when it comes to vintage recipes. My oven always seems to run too hot for recipes from my 1945 cookbook. I invariably have to set the temperature about 25 degrees less than the vintage recipes instruct me to and remove whatever I'm baking from the oven about five minutes ahead of time --- or risk ending up with something burnt and dried out. I used to think it was my oven, but now I'm thinking that the ovens of yesteryear just weren't as well insulated as modern ovens. So they had to bake things at higher temperatures and for longer periods of time. That's my theory, anyway. Have any of you who regularly bake using recipes from this era found this to be the case?

Some of the fine ingredients that go into this sensational Betty Crocker Cake Mix can't be bought in stores. So a woman simply couldn't put them in her own cake! What's more, in her own kitchen, a woman can't duplicate the scientific measuring and blending of ingredients that go into the mix. And, remember, this isn't just a cake mix, it's a Betty Crocker Cake Mix!

Actually, cake mixes aren't entirely un-vintage. General Mills introduced three Betty Crocker cake mixes in 1948: GingerCake, Devil's Food, and PartyCake. The PartyCake mix could be used to bake a white cake, yellow cake, or spice cake - depending on whether you added egg whites, whole eggs, or spices to the mix. Cake mixes cost 35 to 37 cents per box - which translates to just over $3 today. With faith that science and new technologies could solve all problems, the post-war era was prime for the success of such products as cake mixes. What you and I know with hindsight is that no cake mix on the market beats the taste and texture of a cake made from scratch, but 60 years ago there was great hope that the cake mix would someday be perfected and produce a cake even better than that.

Cake mix or no cake mix, I'll be enjoying a very small portion myself!

Just a Quick Note

Just a quick note this morning to let y'all know that yesterday's lumpectomy went as well as possible. Despite some serious trouble beforehand getting a good vein for the IV - my hand and wrist are covered in bandages and bruises - the surgery lasted just 20 minutes. My surgeon felt quite confident that the cyst is just that, but they're sending it along to the lab for a biopsy. She's hoping I'll have my results before Thanksgiving! Wouldn't that be something to be thankful for.

I'm feeling well this morning. The heaviness of the anesthesia has left me. My breast is a little pink and swollen and needs an occasional ice pack. I haven't had to take any of the narcotics, though. Nothing but ibuprofen. So all's well on the home front.

Thank you all for your good wishes and warm thoughts throughout this ordeal! I couldn't have made it through without your support...

To Sift or Not to Sift

I'm certainly no chef, but I've picked up a few things in the kitchen over the course of the past year. Through trial and error - sometimes a very messy error indeed - I'm gradually learning some of the tricks of the trade that most 1940s housewives would have learned as children watching and working in the kitchen with their mothers and grandmothers.

My mom was a great cook, bless her heart, but she did all the work for us when it came to meal preparation. Once in a while, she brought us into her domain to help with a batch of cookies or salad or something, but we were children of the '80s. Moms of that era probably wanted to believe that their daughters wouldn't need to know all this "mundane" stuff. That by the time we were women, technology and modern industry would have replaced the need to prepare three meals a day from scratch --- and clean up after them, too!

So I'm starting a little late.

At any rate, one of the things I've discovered about baking is just how important it is to sift your dry ingredients. It's such a simple step and yet so key to getting great results. Taking a few extra minutes to sift together all your dry ingredients - flour, salt, sugar, baking powder, spices, baking soda, etc. - can make such a difference. Thoroughly blended ingredients make for a muffin or cookie or cake with a more even texture and flavor. And you never have to worry about biting into one of those dreadful baking soda clumps again! I always used to skip this step, thinking I could blend the ingredients just as thoroughly by mixing them with a spoon, but I've changed my mind after having some great successes with baking this last year.

One of the little treasures in my small vintage cookbook collection is a late 1930s booklet called Clabber Girl Baking Book, probably a promotional giveaway for customers of Clabber Girl Baking Powder. The author of the booklet writes that flour should be sifted in order to get a more accurate measurement: "Always sift the flour before measuring, and then dip it lightly into the measuring cup. Do not pack the flour into the cup." Some modern baking tipsters online recommend sifting as critical when using finely ground ingredients that tend to clump: baking soda, confectionery sugar, cornstarch, cocoa, and cake flour. Some people point out that sifted flour makes for lighter, fluffier results. Others tell us that sifting is archaic. Important in the days when flour wasn't as finely milled as it is today, but you can get the same results by mixing dry ingredients with a fork or a wooden spoon.

What do you think? Is sifting a must in your kitchen when baking - or did you leave it behind in Home Ec class?

Dorothy Dix Says...

This week's topic: Can a woman keep house and keep a job outside the home as well? Dorothy Dix answers the question in this column first printed on April 18, 1940:

DEAR MISS DIX - My husband and I are both employed and we board in a private home, but I am not satisfied. I wish to do light housekeeping and still hold my job, but he says that it will be too hard on me and if I go to housekeeping I must give up my work. What do you think?

MARGO.

Answer - I think your husband is exactly right, and that no woman should undertake to carry on two jobs at one time. Of course, many women do. They work all day in store or office and then rush home and clean up the house and get dinner. The result is that they are nervous, peevish, overwrought and end up in a breakdown. The reason that men last so much better in business do is not because they are physically stronger or have better health, but because they have so much more sense about taking care of themselves. When a man does a day’s work he calls it a day and lets it go at that. He doesn’t go from his work to his home and cook his dinner and sit up half the night pressing his trousers and sewing on buttons.

No, indeed. He goes and gets a good, hot meal that somebody else has cooked and that he hasn’t had to worry about or plan for. He spends the evening reading or amusing himself, lets the tailor do his mending and the laundry do his washing.

But a woman superimposes the work of a woman on her work of a man. She does a man’s work outside of her home and then comes home and cooks and scrubs, washes and retrims her hat and takes a tuck in her skirt. Then just about the time when she is getting to the place in business where she is capable of drawing down a good salary she blows up in nervous prostration.

So take your husband’s advice, Margo, and board with somebody else until you are able to set up a real home and devote all of your time to it. “Light housekeeping” is well named “light.” There is mighty little substance to it, and I don’t blame a man for not wanting to leave a place where there is real food to be had.

47 + 2 = 49

My grandmother died on Monday night. It was truly a blessing. She was imprisoned by Alzheimer's disease and dementia for the last four years, so I'm very happy that she's finally free of them both. It's been a tough week. I thought I'd already grieved for Nana - when we lost her in one sense - but I clearly wasn't finished. I've started to write a post several times this week and was never able to finish. She's been the only thing on my mind, but her death is too personal to share.

Housework has actually been a great comfort during this incredibly crummy fall. When you're feeling all at ends with the world, there's nothing like mechanical work - tasks that don't require any kind of creative energy - to keep you from climbing the walls. It can tire you out, too, which helps you sleep at night. And for better or worse, you'll never run out of housework! Exercise has been an unexpected friend to me as well. I've exorcised many a demon as I gritted my teeth and walked my six laps at the park. If I'm frustrated by something on the job, I rejoice in the opportunity to break free at noon, draw some fresh air into my lungs, and burn some calories.

On an up note, I've re-lost the 2 lbs. I'd gained last week and weighed in at 145 this morning. (Whoo-hoo!) I tried on some pants in a size 10 yesterday and was thrilled to find that they fit me perfectly!!! So I'm headed out to do some shopping later today and pick up a few new things for my wardrobe. I may need to invest also in some new underwear. It seems my tush no longer fills out my current supply... Can't be rockin' my new figure with a saggy bottom!

An acquaintance of mine has decided to play matchmaker. She wants to set me up with a friend who's 39, hails from New York, and is a herpetologist at the university where I work. (Think lizards and toads.) "I'm always up for a set-up!" I told her. After all, how can I truly become a 1940s housewife, without becoming a wife? Let's give him a try.

Dorothy Dix Says...

We turn from bridge and cigarets to the topic of children and chores in this Wednesday's Dorothy Dix column - first printed on August 15, 1940:

DEAR MISS DIX - We have one daughter 10 1/2 years old. Is she too young to be asked to do a few tasks around the home, particularly on Saturday and Sunday? I sometimes ask her to dry the dishes or put them in the cupboard, but she is never willing to do it, and after I have asked her maybe three times her father interferes and tells me to let her play and for me to do my own work. What do you think about this?

MRS D.

Answer - Every child by the time it is 5 years old should have some definite task to do in the household for which it is held responsible and which it should be taught to do as part of its daily routine.

This not only inculcates habits of industry in the child, but teaches it responsibility and makes it feel that it is a cog in the domestic machine that keeps it running.

You certainly have failed in your duty as a mother if you have not given your 10 1/2-year-old daughter her regular household chores and taught her to do them as part of the homemaking, that she performs cheerfully as her contribution to the family good.

A girl of that age should be an efficient little housekeeper who could pinch-hit for mother in any emergency. In fact, many girls are, and I still remember with pleasure a most delicious lunch that I once ate that was cooked and served entirely by my hostess' 11-year-old daughter.

A woman makes a great mistake who does not make her children, sons as well as daughters, help her with her housework if she can not afford servants. No sight is more pitiful than an overworked, tired mother slaving to take care of a houseful of husky sons and daughters who have to play athletic games in order to get exercise.

But the worst part of your problem is your husband interfering in your management. There can be no discipline in a family where the parents do not do teamwork. And, heaven knows, in these days fathers and mothers need to stand together against their obstreperous children.