8 May 1955 “Harpo and Lucy, Music and Dance, a quiet Revolution”

This great classis episode of I LOVE LUCY will premiere tonight. Harpo recalled,

“When I walked on the set to go to work there was Lucy imitating me. Tousled and ringlet-red hair streamed from under a battered stovepipe hat. It was the most perfect imitation I’ve ever seen. I rushed over to Lucy, grabbed her hair and asked, “Where did you get such a perfect wig? You could have heard her scream way down in Palm Springs. It seems it was Lucy’s own hair. I had forgotten she didn’t need any help in duplicating my wig.”

This is a great bit and I wonder if it would be deemed to ‘slow’ for today’s TV viewers as this much silent entertainment might not bode well with the action required modern attention spans.

Joe Bolton in 1955  appeared as "Officer Joe" and hosted The Clubhouse Gang, and showed the Little Rascals  on WPIX (New York’s 5th television station that is still on the air) It lost the rights to Little Rascals and in September of 1958 would switch to hosting The Three Stooges Funhouse. Over 1 million watch the little rascals comedies over this station. [I have vague memories of Sunday mornings in pajamas and dressing gown holding my little puppy and watching the little rascals and that was the late 70’s early 80’s.]

Daddy long legs with Leslie Carone and Fred Astaire opened on the 5th of this month.

I love this movie. I have not watched it in years, so this weekend we are ‘going to the movies’ to see this one together.  I was also thinking how then there were song writers and singers. Some were great writers others singers, so if there were a ‘popular’ song, it might be sung by any of the great singers of the time. Now, for some reason, perhaps with all the silly ‘ownership’ laws the big record companies are concerned about, you have an ‘artist’ who writes and sings their own songs. It isn’t bad, but I wonder how many great singers out there would be good at that, just singing, and not worrying about creating lyrics. It is as if that basic level of entertaining is sort of lost and anyone in the popular music scene is meant to have written the songs or even if they are written by others we refer to is as ‘Brittany Spears song’, though she did not write it. Just an interesting observation.

 

While looking at “Your Hit Parade” clips, I found this.

At first glance, with my slowly changing views and esthetics since 1955, I thought, “what a great tune and how sweet”  Then, as my modern mind set slipped in, I thought, “How silly, look how poorly they dance.  Wouldn’t they get made fun of today, those male dancers?” It sort of made me sad. Have we become so jaded that people just having fun and doing not a perfect job but their best is something to be ridiculed? I could be wrong, of course, as there is some show on where celebrities dance or something, but it is a competition and they have to be celebrities. This has a simple entertainment value that feels very, “every man” to me.   When did just having a good try at your best go out of style? It is an odd double standard, where we expect reality tv to be about normal people trying to do outrageous things or horrid people being skanky to get the notice of other wretched people. Yet, the general public is not really given an outlet to just go out and have fun and be silly dancing and listening to music where you can talk. Perhaps, it is just my own experiences, but it always seemed when we went out to places with music you couldn’t hear to talk and there really was no ‘supper club or barn dance’ venue of old. Perhaps, people and youths would not hate small town living if fun and entertainment were somehow shared by all age groups and not every age being separately defined. I think really the concept of ‘teenager fun’ is just beginning in the 1950’s, certainly there were the ‘bobby soxers’ of the 1940’s but it seemed the youth would be entertained with the adults and strive to be more like them. Now, it seems, fun has to be equated with ‘teen fun’ or else you are an old fuddy duddy. And, of course, even younger children are expected to be cool which means not having innocent fun or being with adults, but in fact ‘teen fun’ which now seems to be sex, drugs and rock and roll. I am not an old fuddy duddy but honestly, there could be so many things that young people could genuinely enjoy, but are not really shown. The more I live in 1955 the more I am beginning to resent the late 1960’s and the hippy culture. They seemed to be the pampered children of the 50’s who got the wonderful mothers in nice clothes, homemade food, milk and cookies and then could ‘rebel’ for themselves for fun at that moment leaving the world for their children and grandchildren to fix.

I think since actual 'dancing’ has gone out of style, and long before my time, it has sort of left out an activity for my age group in smaller towns to enjoy.  Couples once could go out dancing and sort of know and expect what to do, now dancing is all about being young and sexy with no specific steps. I cannot be the only person in her 30’s who wished there were clubs that were supper clubs with a live band you could actually dance swing or waltz etc instead of noisy bass thumping meat factories! Maybe I am just getting old, although even in my 20’s I loathed such places! Although, I know there are places in some cities that offer this, it is rare and not just a normal part of any town, the local club with dancing and supper. I need to find out if there are any swing bands around.

I received some ‘new’ 1943-1950 House Beautiful magazines the other day. They are very good reading. I like giving myself some more pre-1955 reading, to really place myself into 1955. Some of these are obviously from the time of WWII and they have great ads and articles. This ad talks about how we will all profit form war time production and that the acceleration in technology due to the war will result in our life being easy and better AFTER the war. These magazines are filled with ‘after the war’ talk and it obviously must have been really the norm of conversation. I was really surprised to see that this ad, which is from a 1943 edition, already showing the dishwasher. It lets me know I most certainly would have one now in 1955 and yet makes me wonder how I hear form our overseas readers that some countries didn’t see dishwashers as the norm until as late as the 1980s! We Americans had so much, after the war. The USA really was poised to grow after WWII. We lost much in people, but our own country was not physically destroyed like Europe and when we came back home we could sort of leave all the ‘bad things’ behind. They could be literally ‘visually forgot’.

It must have been such a strange time to have come from 1930’s Depression where you had very little to the rationing of the 1940’s to suddenly the endless product and ease of the 1950’s. When I see it this way, I can see when we, as Americans, really began to veer away from what I believe we once were. Though today we are taught to believe that America is all about allowing big business to grow unchecked, really that only allows good for a few key people in control of the companies.  And we all pay for it not only with our wallets but with our loss of self in that we are so defined by what we own and buy now, we really have sort of lost our identity. We need to be defined by what games we play or car we drive or what label our clothes or handbags reveal. Where is the American who went out west with disease and will power and built up towns from the dirt? The American’s who left oppression to come and forge a new land out of the wilderness. Did they really do all that so their descendents could sit wasting away in front of TVs overeating, overspending, and becoming rude thoughtless zombies? I know that sounds harsh, but really, I sort of see that happening to us. I want us, we, to have our pride of self preservation. I don’t want a world so lazy and dependent upon manufacturing that we have to buy pre-made PBJ sandwiches or we can’t clean our kitchen with a sponge hot water and our hands, or grow our own food or support our local farmer. Why CAN’T we buy a good pair of shoes and then pay the local cobbler to resole them to make them last? I know, I know, I always seem to come back to this and I honestly don’t know how. It just seems I start to see the things I am learning and hoping to learn and compare them to the 2008 me and think, ‘My God, what a lazy useless slob and corporate shill I was!’

I was thinking how much this time does in a way mirror that time in the mid to late fifties in that suddenly we are really inundated with things. I think being my age now in 1955 and if I were lucky enough to have seen my husband through WWII, after all the sheen of consumerism had worn off I think I would begin to think, “well, my how much less we did with only 10 years ago!” I think being my age then, I would have accepted the influx of things like dishwashers and washers and dryers and then really thought, “wow, how things have changed”. And, maybe I would have sort of took stock, as it were, and decided not to go overboard, just out of the lessons my own life had brought me to up to 1955. Were I 21 in 1955 and starting out a new marriage, I can see how I may start to become the group that will grow and raise the kids that will rebel in the 1960s.

I think, in a way, the movement of the late 60s was trying to get away from that consumerism, but really they threw away a lot of the natural mechanisms that help you cope with a world that is not about consumerism. To them, it had become this plastic world, but to their parents it had been to make the Eden that would never see World Wars again. But, by rebelling against that they also did away with the concepts of family and community in a way that can work for all, not just for young people.  When they thumbed their nose at the house in the suburbs and the family working together and not always expressing how they felt at that moment, they said goodbye to some of the basic good inherent in humans, I think. That ability to pretend to be okay so that your child may be happy at that moment is a good thing, it isn’t always about ME ME ME, but maybe because those 1950s parents DID make it about their kids, they of course didn’t want to ‘grow up’.Why would they?They got to have the smiling stay at home mothers in pretty clothes homemade food, cookies and milk and then when it was their turn to do for their children they said, “No, that’s not how it should be” and off they went. The 1950s are now often seen as the ‘bad time’ that the 60’s some how liberated us from. It isn’t odd, then that their children and grandchildren made the me me 1980s. They had no homemade food and smiling mothers they had the ME ME parents so they wanted structure and wanted that missing element, the home and family. But, now it was distorted and got all mixed up with the ME and the wanting a nice home and then you have the over consumption, get more money greed that has lead us to now. Certainly, I am not saying it would not have all happened if people just accepted their place as adults and grew up, but on some level, it is partly the problem. Where are all the adults? Where has all the responsibility gone?

I have, of late, really started to see that there are many women out there who feel as I do. That really a new ‘revolution’ is upon us. The quiet women’s revolution of ‘returning home’. The 60’s threw out consumerism and everything else, the baby with the bathwater. I say we set aside the new consumerism, pick up our aprons and make a better world with what we have using the skills of our own hands as our ancestors once did. Now, we have the advance of technology, lets be happy for it but let’s use it as a tool and not be USED by it.  Who needs the ease of McDonalds food and the throw away prices and quality of Wal-Mart, when we have our brains and talent? Why settle for what we can buy when we can make and grow and sew what we really desire and have more control over the style, quality and quantity. I don’t think it is good, anymore, to have a product be cheaper if that means there has to be millions of them, some not sold, and then being so cheap, merely tossed away into our landfills. When something is more dear, cost more, we learn to either take care of it or do without.

What is good about this sort of revolution, is it is a quiet one. We can all quietly pick up our aprons and turn our back on the evil ease offered by our present world. “No, thank you,” we can say, with nice manners and pressed dresses “I would rather not buy that five dollar t-shirt at old navy ” and make our own sturdy cotton dress that we can cherish and iron and care for instead of wear once and throw away. “No, thank you” to another plastic handbag sewn by the little hands of a Chinese girl,” this will do fine” as we buy a well made one from the 1950s at our local store, saving it from garbage, and giving money to a local citizen of our community.

Everyone always worries”Well, if we don’t keep buying the economy will fail” well, you know what, we haven’t stopped buying yet and it already failed. It had nothing to do with our buying things so much as mismanagement with the money made from our buying. We built an economy on a wish. Our current economy is all speculation, one has only to look at the real estate market to see that. If we take our money from the big chain store and give it to our neighbor who runs a thrift shop that is helping our local economy, that is good. Global thinking is good, but leave that to our government. They send the delegates to other countries, let us small citizens focus on our own towns and cities. But, I don’t want to get off point. Back to the revolution:
I really see that there are many of us who would like to go ‘back home’ as it were. Let us try. Let us look at our finances and what we buy. Let’s really evaluate the words ‘NEED’ and ‘WANT’. We think we have to be a two income household, but why? Really ask yourselves, why? There isn’t enough money, you might say. Well, what do you spend your money on. I know it sounds simple, but really we just don’t combine thinking with spending. The modern world has made money a magic thing we don’t even have to touch, we just use our credit and debit cards, no cash. But, it is real. There are consequences for what we do.

In my own family, my hubby and I have recently made a decision that brings us almost half of what he used to bring in. He has just found a job locally (only 20 minutes away) that has health care and some possible advancement, but with much less pay right now. However, we really don’t NEED two cars now and I am going to sell one. I can drive him to work to have the car on the days I need marketing and errands done, when I don’t then I can either walk or stay home and get my job and things done here. It seems an alien idea at first, but once you start thinking about it and then adding it all up. The cost of gas for two cars, insurance, repairs, inspections etc. It all adds up. I can now take my skills and really put them to the test, as our budget shall be much tighter and I don’t think the answer is for me to go and get some job to bring in more money and pay more gas and more car fees and buy work clothes. Then, I cannot cook all the time, so I will start getting ‘prepared meals’ etc. It is a slippery slope. SO, let us, we vintage women, try and see if we cannot start our quiet little “Apron Revolution” and see where we end up. We may not change the world, but we might find new power and self worth in ourselves and that WILL change our own little piece of the world.

Now, I will close with some little tidbits from my 1945 House Beautiful magazines.

Here is a great article on houseplants. I remember jitterbug had wondered what would be appropriate plants for the 1940s.

Here is a photo showing an organized ‘cleaning closet’.

Next time I will show some of my latest clothes and talk about sewing. One of my readers sent me a homemade dress form pattern and told me of a funny tale that happened to her in trying to make her own. Now, the sunny garden beckons to me. And, I have dinner to plan.

Happy Homemaking.

5 May 1955 “Damn Yankees, Cinco de Mayo, West Germany, Dining Room and Kitchen”

Today, May 5, 1955, the musical “Damn Yankees” will open in New York City.

This story is a modern retelling of the Faust legend set during the 1950s in Washington, D.C. The New York Yankees are dominating Major League Baseball at this time. The musical is based on Wallop's novel The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant. I love how the right ‘underpinnings’ really make that 1950’s silhouette as it does her on Gwen Verdon.

  I couldn’t find anything about celebrating cinco de mayo in 1955, so I figured this album of Carmen Miranda was all I could give. Does anyone know if the U.S. celebrated cinso de mayo?

Today, West Germany becomes a Sovereign State. 

Germany surrendered at the beginning of May 1945. The bombing had ceased, but the population still lacked virtually everything needed for basic survival.

The Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany) becomes a sovereign state when the United States, France, and Great Britain end their military occupation, which had begun in 1945. With this action, West Germany was given the right to rearm and become a full-fledged member of the western alliance against the Soviet Union.

Many of the regulations and restrictions clearly indicated that the Americans, the British, the French and the Russians had divided the country up into four zones of occupation and had effectively taken over the control of the state. They then began to dismantle the German industrial plants.
However, the American strategy, known as the Marshall Plan, gave a breath of fresh air to Germany’s decrepit economy. Its financial and practical aid proved to be invaluable and paved the way for the German economic miracle in the 1960s.
It quickly transpired that people living in the Soviet zone of occupation had drawn the short straw in political and economic terms, but even more importantly, concerning their rights to democratic freedom. The Nazi dictatorship was replaced by a Soviet one and then Communist dictatorship in the region which became known as the GDR.

The country is to face stark reforms in terms of its constitutional law, now that western Germany is officially given back its sovereignty ( May 5, 1955).
Chancellor Konrad Adenauer proudly announced: "Today, almost ten years after the military and political collapse of National Socialism, the era of occupation has come to an end for the Federal Republic of Germany."

I thought I would start with more dining room pictures. This project, which I allotted the month of April, has really taken up much of my time. However, as I have said before, thank goodness for 1955 organization and scheduling, as although the house was a bit of a shambles, there were still clean clothes, warm meals and ‘dressing for dinner’.

Here is a shot of it as it now stands. There are still little things that need to be done, but I am calling it done enough to use. We did, indeed, have our first dinner here Friday night which was May 1st. It was bitter sweet, after having put down our sweet Gilbert the day before, but Gussie and I were able to get violets and pansies to plant on his little grave, so it felt a sort of May Day.

I had intended to change out the fabric on the seats of the chairs, but they had been recovered only two years earlier for my parents. The colors are those in the rug (also once my parents) and really I felt they did bring in that touch of ‘red’ that I will have in every room. Again, the shades of blue, brown, yellow and red throughout the house in various forms.To tie that in, here, on the mantle shelf, I have my ‘good china’ which is shades of blue and touched with real gold, so I played on that a bit with the gilt statue center and placed it on two old books which share the red/burgundy shade of the seat fabric and the rug. I think it adds enough dark color to balance the lightness of the room. Of course, as I paint the mural along the upper wall I will use touches of that red throughout to tie it in. For instance, there will be a section of a hunt (fox hunting) and of course the gentleman will be in their ‘pink’ coats).

I think my corner cabinet looks rather nice all trimmed and painted into place. Quite a change from this. Here it is with it’s doors open displaying the bulk of my ‘good china’.And I used a shade in the trim of these dishes for the inside of this and the overmantle cabinet as I felt it was a better backdrop for them than the sky blue color of the walls.

Now, you may have notices the beam in the ceiling with the chandelier. Here is that story: We have a house that we now rent out that was built in 1718 and is very ‘old New World’ as it was built before we were even the United States. It is a post and beam and the old beams and wide plank floors are the ceiling of the first floor. We have always loved that house and it feels very cosy and solid to live under a series of beams. I wanted this house, which is not a post and beam, to have that same feeling.

I built this beam with two 2 x 4’a and one wide rough cut piece of lumber. I had originally intended to have other beams radiating off from it, but decided it looked good with the single beam. I will create this look more fully in my living room/library when that goes under my knife late summer. Oh, and the chandalier was very like an old wrought one I had coveted in a book, though they are rather expensive to have made or to buy, I found mine at a local tag sale for $2.00 dollars, it was ugly brass but with a few good coats of heavy flat spray paint for outdoor grills, it looks the part and fits the bill. I wired it myself, thanks to directions from the gentleman who works at our local lumber yard/hardware store. I am sure he had a story to tell that evening about the funny lady in the full skirt, ‘grandma’s hat and gloves’ sitting on the floor of the electrical aisle learning to wire a fixture. But, I digress:

So, as I wanted it to be less rough and more finished as it might be in a ‘nicer room’ of a house of this period, Here is an example out of my 1954 book “Treasury of Early American Homes”I decided to trim it out.

Here is a close up of the wood before it was primed and painted. I rather like the finished affect. I am also glad I chose to paint the ceiling the same color as the walls. It will help pull in the ‘sky’ of the mural as it happens. I will post pics as I draw out and paint this mural. I feel, if it were to take the remainder of the year, it might be a nice homage to this project.

Now, back to my book from 1954 of Early American Homes. Obviously, these homes are not decorated in Atomic Age Modern, so I wanted to show that not everyone in 1955 would be decorating ‘modern’. In fact, a wife of my age in New England would most likely hold fast to her antiques, slipping in the occasional modern piece here and there. When I do the kitchen, it will have the more rustic beam as seen here.but will also address the darling colors, fabrics, wallpapers, and appliances of the day. So, my new kitchen’s style lies somewhere between this and this mixed with post and beam antiquity.

I am in my kitchen everyday and it is the center of my industry. I most likely will do this room last, as I can have time to really plan and think and live with color samples and ideas etc.

When thumbing through my copy of Dorothy Draper’s “Decorating is Fun” the other day, I was happy to see that we both share the idea that a comfortable chair is important in the kitchen:

“My own inclination is always toward a comfortable, country sort of kitchen. If you have room for it, by all means have an upholstered chair or rocker by the window…Keep a magazine rack for books and periodicals or a small radio in the kitchen, too. Your kitchen can be the most convenient workshop in the world and still be the sort of place that suggests a jolly fudge-making party or an old-fashioned taffy pull”

Though my kitchen has not received its makeover I do use it the best way I can until that happens. This is the corner of my kitchen where I often wait for that cake or watch that ‘boiling pot’. I have my clock, my ‘old radio’ my magazines, a window and a place to set my cup of tea. I also have a comfortable chair in the dining room corner for lounging with extra guests. This chair will eventually be recovered in a tapestry fabric to tie it into the rug and dining room chairs. Though it looks rather stiff, it is quite comfortable. My dogs like to sit at it so they can view what is ‘going on’ during diner. They are a bit spoiled, I am afraid.

 

Gussie and I went antiquing the other day and, of course, were dress vintage. I cannot tell you how many people complimented us! One woman, one of the owners, on three separate occasions came up to us and thanked us for our appearance and even said, “I really love your style, I mean, I really do.” Then she looked at us a little longer and continued, “I honestly do”. How much joy a pair of gloves a hat and pretty dress can not only give to yourself, but others. It does make a gal feel good.

I really need to start documenting my outfits. It is so normal for me now, that I don’t think about it, but I am promised by hubby that he shall show me how to use the timer for my camera. If I cannot take the shots myself, most of my outfits will go unrecorded.

Well, the weather this past week has been so odd. We have had nothing but rain and gray skies. Certainly it is good to aid me to continue to work on indoor projects and I have not had to water my garden since Thursday!, but it does hamper one’s mood. It was odd that our last sunny day was the last day of our sweet little Gilbert and since then, rain. Though one does not get over it, I am certainly feeling a ‘healing’ going on this week. Perhaps it is also the rain.

As I said, much went upon the shoulders of our little Gilbert, and he had become to represent the sadness and sudden removal of my family. Though I had thought I had really already ‘dealt’ with the feelings of the loss of my mother as she once was and my family in general, really I had merely done what is expected of me, and simply pushed it down deep inside and put on a smile. I have come to realize that on some level wallowing and constant rehashing of sadness, as we are often taught to do in modern psychology, can actually be detrimental to ‘getting on with one’s life’, I have felt that having to face it all in tears at the death of my little dog really did help. Now, however, I am honestly feeling rather healed. There is an almost elation in the act of facing a sadness then getting on with it. Another form of ACTION, really. Gussie and I had to face Gilberts death and even to bury him, but by the act of going out and buying flowers, planting them and saying good bye really to that part of our lives, it has helped me to move forward. Time travel really does teach a gal a lot, I suppose.

Today, with the rain coming down, I am going to mess about in my little sitting room. I have the whole room torn apart and am trying to reorganize to better help me in my study and research for the remainder of this year. It is a form of ACTION that is really cementing to me the importance of seeing out this year and to look with hope and excitement at what other lessons and knowledge lies ahead.

In the kitchen, I am now faced with study of my new diet book and anything else on nutrition for my family, as it seems, while I seem to be losing weight, my hubby, who has never had a weight problem, has had to have me buy him pants one size up! So, I fear cakes and pastries may take a back seat for a little while to be replaced with fruit salads. I think, perhaps, I may toy with the various fruit and gelatin ‘salads’ always being shown in my magazines, who knows they may be rather good. I have found out that Jell-O has very few calories. I also know that I can use my Knox unflavored gelatin to make my own fruit salads, infusing it with fresh squeezed juices and the like to make a more delightful dessert rather than just buying pre-flavored Jell-O's and throwing in some canned fruit. I shall approach this endeavor with the zeal of my cake making and see what comes out. Don’t worry, I will share the recipes, pictures and of course, opinions on it all.

Until tomorrow, then, Happy Homemaking and on to ACTION!

4 May 1955 "Short one today, back tomorrow"

Here is some food for thought:
The idea of throw away dishes, easy cheap food, not leaving your car. Good concepts at first, but look where we have come. Good or Bad? You tell me, let's hear your opinions.
I feel bad as I am very busy today and promise to be back tomorrow with a nice normal full post. But, I had to touch base with everyone. So, discuss amongst yourselves. Food and ease, good, bad, indifferent?
Until tomorrow, then.

1 May 1955 “Thank you, Photos, and May Day”

First off, I am thankful to all of you who took the time to leave comments. It was definitely a hard time, these past few days, with the passing of my little dog.

As it happened, as it often does with pets, our little Gilbert carried a heavy weight on his shoulders. We very often, with our loved pets, place upon them the cares and woes we sometimes just can’t face. They are the unquestioning friend who let’s you cry on their shoulder, never asks why and never judges you. So much weight on the shoulders of that little dog. The leaving of my parents. My mother’s horrid disease. The final days of my youth. All of that and more tied into 12 pounds of furry smiles and tail wags.

I am, truly, glad to be in the midst of this project when it happened. And in many ways the projects lessons of maturity and ACTION have helped me to come to terms with these things. The passing of my little dog allowed me to final open up and cry. I saw the importance of a grave. A marker to what once was. A place I could toss the dirt, shed my tear and say goodbye to my youth, my mother, my little friend and a life that had gone.

Yet, here I am with flowers for the grave. Apple trees to grow and make food for my family. Work to be done. Projects to undertake. Letters to write. Posts to do. A life has formed up around me when I really felt I was hiding from an old one. I am thankful and relish the maturity and ACTION of my new days. Again, thank you. I shall not dwell. As, the world awaits and there is so much to do. So many things to create and enjoy and bake! Onward, we march, we homemakers. We are a tough lot.

I thought something light and visual would be good to follow yesterday’s blog. I just had to post this photo as it is so sweet and funny. How lucky these young men are, considering had they been born 10 years earlier they may have already contracted the dreadful disease.

Credit: Image donated by Corbis-Bettmann
Leo Casey watches aghast as Charles Buzine, 6, receives a shot of polio vaccine. Leo's up next. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, April 29, 1955.

 

I found this image on a blog who posts found photos. Isn’t it fun?

For some reason I feel he should be called Charles or Filbert or something along those lines. I love that on ‘school photo day’ he is expected to wear a suit and tie and how about that darling hankie? You know his mother ironed that one!

Here is the TV Guide for this week: Aren’t her matching gloves and scarf adorable. I really think the fashions of those time took guts! It takes some pride of place and real confidence to wear polka dot gloves and scarf. It takes the same confidence and charm to wear a pink flowered hat to the grocery store. I never want to look back and think, “Oh, at least I blended in and nobody noticed me.” Especially when I see the smiles I sometimes get from older people. It is funny how an outfit, remembered, can bring a smile to someone’s face. They were proud of their clothes and have fond memories. I have to say if I saw someone sporting an 1980s outfit of acid washed jeans, baggy shirt with shoulder pads, neon jelly bracelets, jelly shoes and ratted burnt blonde hair, I would not think, “oh, how lovely to see someone wearing the 'old style,” Maybe it is just me, though, maybe there are a lot of you out there who do remember the 1980s and 90s fashion fondly, myself I think I cannot.

I found some nice photos on a genealogical site for Arkansas, so I hope they don’t mind that I am displaying them, but I found it rather interesting to see average people in the mid 1950’s and what they would have worn.

This is the Wheatley family. I was surprised that the young boy is wearing dungarees while in town and even the youngest daughter is sporting sneakers. These ladies have nice casual skirt top combinations. Although I adore the dress on the woman on the right. It looks almost dressy and yet what comfortable open toed shoes. I thought this family almost looked modern (except for the mother’s shoes, which I love and have a pair similar in red and white) This one is from 1955 and I really like the younger mother’s (on the right) dress. I think I will try to make something similar. I have not touched my machine since March, but come May that will change. Sewing day will be inserted into my routine, perhaps it will share ironing day. Most of the men seem rather casual, but all the ladies are sporting dresses and skirts and they all look fresh. I think dresses in the summer are so much more comfortable than anything else and they do look so nice. The young mother’s shoes are quite nice. A strap always helps give a nice turn to an ankle, don’t you think?

This young mother looks quite comfortable. Her shoes are sensible and if I had to venture a guess, I don’t believe she is wearing a girdle, or perhaps it is a more ‘relaxed’ girdle. The little girls dresses are darling. I am sure not many will agree with me, but I hate to see little girls nowadays wearing mini versions of jeans and sweats or those horrible velour ‘track suits’. If I had a little girl (which luckily for her I do not) she would be in all kinds of darling dresses. If mummy can clean and garden in a dress, she certainly could play in one. And I LOVE the playsuits of this time period for children. Practical and yet adorable and look at the little matching beach jacket. So much nicer than seeing saggy wet disposable diapers (nappies) at the beach!

This one feels so ‘me’ while doing my shopping (though sometimes I wear heels) I love that hair length and style! So breezy and cool.

Well, Happy May Day. I am not sure how any of you or if any of you celebrate this holiday anymore, but in the 1950s there were parades and queens and maypoles etc. Here are some pics

This would have been how my fictional grandmother would have celebrated it, most likely

I vaguely recall a story my mother once told me that when she was a little girl, they would gather posy’s of forget-me-nots and pansies and violets and hang them secretly on the doors of the older people in her town. It sounded lovely. I don’t know if anyone celebrates it anymore, does your town?

30 April 1955 “Goodbye Old Friend”

These past two days have been hard. Our dog has had to be put down. He is old, 17 years to be exact, and we came about him in an odd way. It actually is rather fitting that I should be with him, now, at the end of his life. We have only taken him in for the past three months, but he came into my family by my own hand.

The story of Gilbert. Where to begin.

I was young and just back from Europe and not yet done with school. Being young and impetuous, I thought I needed a dog. I had moved out of dorms, so had my own place. An impetuous afternoon lead to a young college student with a full schedule and a strapping young Jack Russell.

He was everything a young dog should be. Rambunctious. Playful, of course always wetting the floor when he shouldn’t. I often carried him around in a shoulder bag. He’d poke his little head out, sniff the air and breathe in life. He was white with red spots. One spot covered his eye and ear, making me recall old Little Rascals episodes on Saturday mornings as a child. I even have a newspaper clipping of me and my little guy when I visited a local antique show. The person asked if they could get a shot of us for the local paper. I didn’t know until it came out, why they wanted it. “Antique enthusiast follows ‘no dogs allowed’ rule at this year’s antiques fair” we laughed about it, hung it on the fridge and went on into the summer.

That fall, returning to university, Gilbert stayed behind. I hadn’t time for him, really. He had become accustomed to my parents and our family dog. He enjoyed the yard to romp in and the constant attention my mother could lavish on him. I kissed his head, waved good bye and somehow the rigors of life speed by.

I graduated. Moved to Boston then the Cape and life just sort of lumbered along. I would hear of the dogs occasionally, but new dogs, a husband and a life had replaced the part in my heart he once filled.

Flash forward to two years ago. My parents, being quite old ( I was born when my mother was in her 40’s) plan to move out to the Cape. I am excited, but it is short lived. I had heard less and less form my mother over the years and really thought little of it. We were always close but we had such full lives, separately, that many times a few years would go by with only occasional calls. Now, I knew why. My mother had Alzheimers and my Father had kept it from me. I was floored to say the least. That, however, is another story.

They moved out here, with Gilbert, the family dog having passed just before. 15 years had gone by, but Gilbert was holding on. We have a house we own that we used to rent out and so my parents moved in. It is a wonderful old Cape built in 1718. Finally, I thought, it will be filled with family and laughter and of course, the patter of dogs feet.

Gilbert. Here he was. So old he was unrecognizable. His playful red spots had faded to all white. His rambuncious prance, replaced by careful steps. His bottom row of teeth, what was left of them, now protruded and he looked oddly comical when he would peer up at you, teeth jutting out, ears alert. He played, as best he could, with my younger dogs when we would visit and have our family get togethers. Finally we were all close to one another.

Alzheimer's is a horrid disease. I have since often thought it is the closest thing to living with a real ghost. You see the image of your loved one walking about, only you cannot communicate with them and they often look right through you; perhaps she smiles at you, or holds your hand, only she cannot tell you what she wants. Words elude her. She wants to communicate with you, like a ghost, but having left earthly things behind, she cannot be made to understand who she is or who you are. You smile best you can and hold her hand. It is a sad place for all.

Being the youngest and born to such old parents has often left me to face things many people do not encounter until they have older children of their own. I have no children but I do have old parents. It is as if I have lived with those sights and knowledge of old age since I was a child. They have been my companion in my youth and were gone for a bit, but with my parents return to me and Gilbert they returned. Perhaps my love of vintage things was due to my being brought up on it. I often lived in the photographs of my parents when they were young, with my other siblings. It was a life that had been real, they spoke of it, I could see the participants, but I was never there. Maybe, in some way, my trip back to 1955 now is, in some part, my trying to go there. A chance to visit that shinning Camelot I viewed as a child, alone on the sofa in books of black and white photographs. Alice trying to get through the looking glass.

Now, a few months ago, for reasons too long to explain my mother, now in a nursing home, and my father have had to move back home, many states away from me. My father, burdened with so much, could not take Gilbert. He was too old, wouldn’t survive the trip. “Perhaps he should be put down”, he said. “No, I will take him. After all, really, he is my dog”.

Though Gilbert was technically my dog, he had become my father’s dog years back. My mother would often be followed by our family dog, but Gilbert was dad’s reluctantly. My father would often play the ‘I don’t care about that old dog’ trick, but we’d see the food slipped quietly under the table for him, or the fresh chicken he would cook for him daily. When Gilbert was still young and my father more mobile, you would often see the pair of them tottering about the yard and if my father went somewhere in the car, Gilbert was the first in the front seat, his place of honor.

Now, those days are gone. My parents, too, are gone. My mother installed in her new nursing home being visited by my siblings. My father, installed with family, free of the ‘burden’ of Gilbert.

Since we have had Gilbert he has loved us, best he could. He, for some reason, took a shine to Gussie. He would follow her around and wait for her to appear from her bedroom. Though I was with Gilbert all day, and he would kiss me and eat the food I gave him, he would sometimes give me a look: as if, some where some how, he recalled me. Days in bags and eating muffins hidden in class rooms. Maybe, just maybe, he never really forgave me for walking away from him years earlier. Now, with circumstances beyond either of our control, we found ourselves back together. Fate, perhaps? Whatever it was, here we were. Dog and Girl, having shared various years and holidays, back together.

Now, Gilbert is an old dog, but we have dubbed him the ‘energizer bunny’ as he just never quits. But, unfortunately that is not the case now.

This past Sunday Gilbert seemed stiffer than usual. His hind leg wouldn’t cooperate. He shuffled along, but still made it out the door and into the yard, to stare disdainfully at the antics of my younger dogs or to wag his tail at the site of Gussie. By Monday he could barely move, so off to the vet we go.

“Lyme disease,” says the vet. “We don’t have to put him down?” we respond? “No, give him these twice a day” responds the vet and off we go.

Here we are today and Gilbert is on his last legs. He cannot move to go to the bathroom. We found him this morning, slumped under the kitchen table near the door, knowing he should not go in his bed, but his body not following his command. We called the vet and today he must go.

I have been racked with emotion today. Is it best and right to let him be put down. Certainly, it must be, as he cannot stand. He is not crying out in pain, but certainly there is no hope of healing. I spent the morning holding him in his favorite blanket, an old one of Gussies, and every so often he would look up at me. I know, through his poor eyesight, he hoped I was my mother or father. I too, in a way, wished he were my mother, one last hug and all. So, I figured, here we are, we odd pair both hoping we were someone else, but only having each other. I hugged him a little tighter and he fell asleep for awhile.

It is sunny and warm. The birds are singing. The rooster just let out that he is around. I figure, Gilbert is entitled to enjoy some of his last day outside in the warm air. I found a soft patch of grass, laid him down with Gussie’s blanket and sat with him for awhile, stroking his head. Once he drifted off to sleep, for I could see the blanket rising and falling, telling of his breath, that he only slept, I grabbed the shovel and headed for my new little orchard.

Perhaps it was destiny that I took a break from the finishing touches on my dining room yesterday to plant up my little orchard. I was so proud all the little apple, plum and pear trees, erect and freshly mulched. Hubby and I had cleared the area the previous Sunday on that unseasonably hot day. I daydreamed the future little path and the fence I’ll put in. Over there, I thought, will go the stone wall and maybe some day a little fountain and some chairs to enjoy it all. Now, here I was, digging a hole under one of my favorite apple trees, knowing it was not destined for another tree. This, I thought, will be will Gilbert will lie.

It seemed odd, almost macabre to be digging his grave as he lay quietly snoozing in the fresh grass. It made me reflect on my own life and my own mortality, which death always does. We always feel the pain of a loss the fact that for us, we shall never see them again in our lifetime. But, there is a selfishness to grief, I think. Perhaps we don’t want to know it, but it is there. You see, how can we not see ourselves a little in death. It is there for all of us, certainly. We grieve for those who are going and reflect on their life. But, what about our life? Are we living it?

Perhaps, this project could not have come at a better time for me. It has taught me to grow up in many ways, and to have responsibility. It has also taught me the joy and importance of living happily in the moment. I used to think I lived in the moment, but really I just wasted my time. Diversion, entertainment, what ever I thought was making me ‘happy’ because we don’t ‘live forever’. But, now my living in the moment has a sort of timelessness about it. I can feel a joy in planting up trees that I hope to see grow and age and provide food for our table. The happiness at the moment I place the roots in the ground, the watering of them in the morning and dreaming of the tomorrows they will bring, all the while knowing how happy I am and can be at that moment. Maybe, just maybe, these past few years of illness and facing death will help me to make a life I will be sad to let go, but will enjoy along the way. Even the silly things I talk about like wasting time on tv and not really trying to take ACTION, they, today, seem to have even more importance to me. They seem a road I am glad to struck out upon.

Today I am sad. I have held my dog, the puppy I once ran with and left behind. He has come back and here we are the pair of us, alone in our grief. But, we have had times, oh we have had times!

Now, as I dig the hole, I think of his little body in there, covered in the earth. The roots will grow over his remains some day. He will enrich the soil. The tree will grow and bear fruit and will become pies and jelly and fill our bellies. He will be gone and will one day be forgot, but now, here in my new little orchard, he will be remembered. I too, one day, will be gone and forgot. But, for awhile, perhaps, I will be someone's happy memory. Maybe there will be someone to walk in my orchard, now overgrown or perhaps well cared for with large gnarled old trees and they will stand where my puppy was once buried and not know he was there. But he was. And I was.

I only hope, for any of you who read this, that you can walk away today and think “I am alive!”. Maybe you will suddenly feel the need to take that trip you have been putting off or maybe you will walk into your home and sit with your cup of tea and think, “I am happy right now. There is the picture I have hung, the clothes I have folded. There is the pie I have baked. Who will care in 100 years, but right now, I care and am happy and alive.”

All of this because today a little dog has died. I suppose it doesn’t really matter if I am in 1955 of 2009, I am glad I have struck off on the road I am now on. There are rewards amongst the loss, and really that is what life really is: Finding the happiness and love amongst the sadness and misfortune. I am glad that this year of taking away things, such as some modern conveniences and ideals, has lead to a new kind of happiness, self-worth, and knowledge. And, how much that is like life. We have to give up things and people we love, but sometimes, from it, comes a new happiness and a new way of living. I am going to live the best way I can, and realize sometimes that best is simply sitting in my orchard with my family and friends resting my foot upon the grave of dear old Gilbert.

R.I.P. Gilbert (1992-1955)

28 April 1955 “Insurance, Hospital costs, Diets, Letters and the art of Conversation”

From Time Magazine:

Patients are "alarmed by the confusion and the cost of a system in which the doctor competes with the hospital for the patient's pocketbook," Dr. Basil C. MacLean, New York City Commissioner of Hospitals, told the New England Hospital Assembly in Boston. Furthermore, said MacLean, some hospitals seem "to be designed on the pattern of a clip-joint nightclub," charging as much as 60¢ for a couple of aspirin tablets that they buy at 60¢ per 1,000. "If the voluntary hospital system is to continue," warned MacLean, "shock therapy is needed to cure it of its schizophrenia." [I just assumed the overpriced hospital fees were always there. Apparently, the practice to gouge and therefore require insurance to cover 100 dollar Tylenol was just starting out in 1955. Look out world, it’s going to get worse.]

This bit about insurance was also surprising to me:

A major extension of insurance to cover long-term illnesses now excluded was approved at a joint Chicago meeting of Blue Cross (hospitalization) and Blue Shield (medical care) representatives. By year's end, most of the autonomous local plans are expected to offer combination policies (for extra premiums of about $1 a month for an individual, $2 to $3 for a family) to provide up to two years of care for long-lasting disorders now excluded, e.g., mental illness, tuberculosis, incurable cancer, alcoholism. Most plans now exclude these illnesses, and limit protection to about 70 days' care for acute conditions. Policyholders will still have to pay 20% of the costs out of their own pockets.

That means, this sort of coverage would only cost us today around 7 dollars a month. I become so disillusioned when I look at how the insurance industry has lead to the current overpriced medical system. I am really numb with anger at how it has left our country in it’s current state with health care. The insurance lobbyists are the most powerful and plentiful in Washington.

I have been going through the 1955 Diet book and it seems full of nothing but good sense. I found this bit rather good:

“Another reason why no specific time limit is placed on the diets is that reducers who slim down on short-term diets are prone to feel that the battle of overweight is won, once and for all. It never is or hardly ever. Fat will come right back again if eating is unrestrained and daily meals pile up a calorie surplus. Permanent weight control depends upon reeducating one’s appetite and eating habits. Foods provided in this book are meal plans that are common to average American diets. That way the transition to higher calorie diets, after weight is reduced, will be easy and natural. Diet containing exotic ‘health foods’ or strange and unusual things to ear are all too likely to make the reducer feel that there is some wonderful short term magic in them. There is no such magic, and the road to lifetime weight control lies in intelligent eating and a wide variety of common and delicious foods of the familiar kinds provided by the following meals.”

Again, accountability. You can eat normal easy inexpensive foods. You don’t have to eat odd bars or weird flax covered tofu wads (unless you like that). But, really, these meals are simply plain meals you would serve for you family and they would be on a ‘diet’ with you, as you would want everyone to have a healthy weight and you control that up or down with the PORTIONS of the meal.

The book gives this list of “Eat-all-you-want foods”. They are 3-percent-carbohydrate vegetables which give a very large amount of satisfying bulk but surprisingly few calories.

Here they are:

Asparagus, Beans (green or wax), Broccoli, Cabbage, Cauliflower, Celery, Chard, Chicory, Cucumbers, Endive, Escarole, Greens (beet dandelion mustard turnip), Kale. Lettuce, Mushrooms, Parsley, Radishes, Rhubarb, Romaine, Sauerkraut, Spinach, Summer squash, Tomatoes, and Water Cress.

So, eat up gals!

I thought this was good advice for those who like to snack or need to eat at night (I know Jitterbug mentioned having that feeling):

“Save a serving for a snack. If you just must eat something before you go to bed or in the middle of an afternoon, let the snack be a serving from lunch or dinner (not breakfast) of the day’s diet. You overdraw your diet, make repayment by not eating the ‘borrowed’ food at regular mealtime.” [Don’t you love it! It is just good common sense and also applies to saving money! So many people do say, “don’t eat after 8” which is true, but if you are taking a certain amount of calories and you save some of them to eat after 8 you are still eating that same amount in the day and your body doesn’t know if it is 8 at night or 12 in the afternoon. I asked my friend who is a doctor and he said, that if you are eating say 1200 calories a day then it doesn’t matter what time during the day that you eat it as long as it is restricted to that amount between the morning and evening. So, for any late night snacker, just reserve some of your lunch for that late night ‘ice box raid’.

So, here are the spring meal plans with the various daily caloric intakes. I will post the various recipes in my next post.

 

Since I have begun some correspondence with various followers, I have of late really begun to think of the art of letter writing. According to my book on Etiquette from 1952 under the correspondence chapter,

“Letter writing, like conversation, is often spoken of today as a lost art.”

Even then, with more frequent travel, automobiles, and the telephone, the letter was beginning to be viewed as fleeting. However, the letters of 1955 certainly outnumber those of today and even in their casual manner, certainly have more info in them to peruse and study. The etiquette book states,

“Though few of us today are writing the sorts of letters that will be studied and collected by historians in the future, we all do a certain amount of letter writing.” Yet, how we today, find the simplest letter home from a young bride interesting and often, between the lines, are volumes spoken.

I found some old letters I had mailed home from my time in Paris and England in the early 1990’s. Even then the concept of email was far away. I found that the post cards I wrote home were more detailed than many emails I wrote in 2008 and certainly more so than a text. Here is what I wrote on a post card home on my return to Paris from England:

                                                      29 July

“I am back in Paris. It is so bloody hot! England was wonderful and where I was staying in Hampstead was a  lovely little swimming hole in the middle of the Heath. It was fenced only for women (so, men couldn’t peek) and had to be reached through a curving tunnel of foliage. It was so Victorian, I utterly loved it. All of those English women, young and old,  just bobbing around without a splash. The water was green like pea soup and ducks shared our pleasure. It is good to be back in Paris, besides the heat. Having a wonderful time, will write later.

P.S. This is a wonderful park where I eat my morning bread. The old people sat in the green metal chairs are as solid and beautiful as the ancient stonework.
Love.

Certainly, in 2009 on such a trip, one might toss off a few emails: It’s hot. Liked England and swimming was fun :) So hot here, but nice park ';)

Somehow, down the road if one were even to have copies of old emails, would they ever bring back the images of those lost times? That calls up another issue, will we have copies of all our old emails to one another? Will they be left in boxes for others to find and love? I know I never print my emails out. They are fleeting, like a quick “Hi, how are you?” to a stranger.

I am not saying they are bad, but we really have sort of lost a form of communication. Are we heading back to a series of grunts and hieroglyphs to communicate? Are single letters and punctuation standing in for facial expressions the new form of letter writing? It does make one think.

Here is a sample ‘bread and butter letter’ as it is called in the book:

It certainly would be nice to receive even this short letter in the mail. Most likely one would thank another with an email or maybe a text or call, or possibly, not at all.

I don’t want to say one is good or one is bad, but what we have now is the ability to have BOTH! They did not have the convenience of email and texting in 1955, but we have that and the ability to send letters, why not use them in tandem? An email and a quick call is nice to make sure one is arrived safe or for urgent information, but the ability to express oneself in letter form, and the joy of reading of one’s experience through their words is slipping away. I do think that language is an important part of being a human being. I wonder, will letter writing ever disappear altogether? What do you think? Do you like getting and or writing letters? When was the last letter you actually received. Do you know more about each other because you CAN communicate more easily, or do you actually know each other less as you have no need to delve into your own thoughts and feelings at length, but can just sit for hours on the cell or im-ing talking about nothing and making ;0 :) all day? Could it be the easier communication becomes the less we have to say to one another? As we have less time to think and consider what we would like to say and therefore discover ourselves who we are and what makes us happy or sad? And in our constant calling and talking on cell phones, do we need to create drama in order to have something to say to one another?

I promised photos of my dining room and they are coming, believe me, but I did give myself until the first of May to complete my project. Sometimes things come up and I am glad for my new scheduling lifestyle.

Yesterday, was laundry day, but I had to take all three dogs to the vet. I also had to go pick up the last of my new chicks. This resulted in a lot of driving about and I did not get as much done on my room as planned, and to top it all off, my drill broke! Yet, I am learning to take it all in stride, because at the end of the day, I still had clean sheets on the bed, a nice meal on the table and had time to whip up a batch of brownies from scratch. I really do find now when I have a ‘busy day’ that throws more things in my path, having now got to a certain level of things that I will make sure get done, it makes the chaos of unexpected things more bearable and I can still enjoy the day. Gussie spent most of the day with me, running errands and holding dogs at the vet, and though we had a day full of ‘to-doing’ it was all done with fun and laughter. A smile and understanding friends certainly makes the day go by nicely.

We also, the three of us Gussie, Hubby, and I, have a new nightly ritual that I look forward too and it really does help to wind down the day. After we eat dinner together, Gussie gets tea on while I serve up whatever is going for dessert (last night blonde brownies and ice cream). Then, I take out Pockets ( my darling little parakeet, another purchase for this project) who sits on my shoulder.  We sip our tea, eat our dessert surrounding by the dogs and the bird, and talk. It is so nice to just talk. With no tv to watch ( I have really even stopped watching my vintage tv, as I just forget about it and have little time for it) we have time to talk. Even if it is about nothing, we always find things we have been thinking about to discuss. Much like the joy of reading a blog, the conversation is a great way to catch up and also express our thoughts which might lead to new ideas we can work on the next day. Conversation, really, is so important (to me at least). I also find it is nice to expect a certain routine, it gives a nice structure to even a hectic day. Looking forward to time together to relax and making sure it is as important to get done as making dinner, really does make for a better quality of life.

I used to try not to be too critical of things like watching TV, but honestly I have to say now, in my current frame of mind, I find almost no reason for it. I enjoy watching movies occasionally with my friends, but is my life less full because I don’t have ‘my shows’ to watch anymore? No. I have to say that for my household, we enjoy the time together much more and have so much more quality time to share with one another without it. I began to think in 2008 that my mind was not as sharp as when I was younger, as I was always reading and considering things and contemplating life. Now, I realize, I was just becoming mentally lazy. How can I expect my mind to work better if I don’t use it! But, I didn’t have to. The TV and computer did it for me. It told me what to do and eat and buy. It told me what I should wear whom I should like or hate. 

I certainly could write a letter expressing everything we did yesterday and find it rather interesting to share.  Were I too have come home, ate dinner while we watched TV, and then continued to watch it, we would have said few words to one another and really not get to know one another. Sometimes the people we live with we begin to know so little of, as we waste our time together with the TV. I am sure there are couples who say few words together ,who eat together and sleep in the same house, but spend most of their time together in front of the distraction of television. I really do think if anyone watches a lot of TV, they should just try one night a week where there is no TV and you have tea/coffee/cocktails and just talk about your day or what you want to do or what you think or what book you read or blog or interesting article or what you want to read or do. I know it sounds simple or obvious, but I didn’t realize how much time I didn’t spend with those in my home until the TV went quiet. Just something to think about.

Well, I have ironing today and more dining room finishing touches and planting some trees in my little orchard. What a glorious beautiful day. I hope all of you enjoy yourself, no matter where you are or what you are doing and why not look forward to the evenings end with a cup of tea with your family/friends and a great conversation.

Happy Homemaking.