27 May 1957 “Bad Tenants and Loss of Freedoms”

I would like to apologize for not posting yesterday. As many of you may know, I have been dealing with the worse tenant situation I have ever had. We have a house we rent out for the amount it costs to pay the mortgage. We make zero dollars from it and quite often end up paying more for various things like water and repairs.

Our latest tenants have stopped paying rent two months ago. They have destroyed the house beyond belief. The home reeks of animal waste and the yard has bags of actual garbage as well as an odd array of broken furniture, various appliances in disrepair and more ‘free’ garbage, not bagged. It appears they literally eat, drink, or smoke something and then let it fall where it may.

The last week has been one of talking to lawyers, going to various government offices (where they seem to care very little) and to the local sheriffs office. What I have come to fine, and this is not an exaggeration, as a homeowner/landlord in MA I have NO legal rights to the house. I have to give a 30 day amount of time AFTER they have stopped paying rent. It has to be delivered BEFORE the last of the month it gives as the final month. It has to be signed for by the tenant by certifies mail (which I paid for) BUT if they do NOT accept the letter and go pick it up. That counts as their NOT having it! I couldn’t believe that, because obviously they have done this before.
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26 December “Happy Christmas”

I have not posted for a few days. It has been a flurry of activity around here and literally did not have my usual afternoon spot of computer time. In some ways, being away from the computer for a few days in a row can be very addictive. I shall not, however, make it a habit in the coming year and will endeavor to post daily.
How funny that here, at the end of 1956, I should be embracing more the vintage things rather than longing for the modern. I love my computer, don’t get me wrong. It allows me to post and write and also more and more do art and create. Yet, as a tool it is fine, but as an eater of time it can be immense. So, when I found myself a few days without it, I did not miss it. But, I would miss all of you and what the blog has come to mean to me.
I wanted to share some photos of gifts today, but our camera has gone missing. I shall then do that tomorrow. But, these past busy days were fun and well, busy. On Thursday, I went to my nieces and helped her prepare for our family Christmas eve party. It is here turn to host, so I was there to help. We have a theme each year and it has spanned from 1950’s to Dickens Victorian. One year we did a black and white ball and all had to dress in black and white (easy for the boys in tux of course). This year the theme was a pajama party! It was fun. We served up breakfast foods, had stockings on the mantle and Christmas parlor games. What fun!
For food there was crab and dill quiche, vegetable quiche, Quiche Lorraine, French toast bake, home fries, and lashings and lashings of bacon and sausage! And, of course, mimosa’s poured heavily and were much imbibed.
And yesterday, Christmas day, we had our family Christmas of hubby and Gussie and I. Then around 4 off to my MIL for dinner and more presents and a fire and relaxing.
So, here I am the day after the holiday and unable to locate my camera. I will today and then post my gifts, and other photos. I am finding it more and more difficult to remind myself to document my life with pictures. When I started, back in 1955, it was more about the project. My life was focused on the minutiae of the day, what to wear, how to cook, what to serve, what I would have watched. This year has lead more to my growth  in these areas and also an increased practice of, oddly enough, computer skills in my little endeavors to make a site and forum.
Now, however, I find those things most likely worth documenting so normal and part of my life I don’t think of them as unique. Then I find myself thinking, “Oh, the guys and gals on the site would have liked to have seen that.”
To me a girdle hanging to drip dry, the fastening of stockings, laying the breakfast table with vintage dishes and a big spread of food, hat, gloves, and heels. All of these things have become such a normal part of my life, I just have sort of moved on as far as thinking them unique. And, in so doing, in many ways this blog has become more about my day than the uniqueness of the 1950’s. Yet, in my daily normalcy, it is very 1950’s so it is still, in many ways a vintage blog. One can get rather mixed up in time when one becomes a time traveler.
I realized yesterday morning how it was all so normal, yet how unique we were truly living. Hubby, in his vintage Pajamas and dressing gown reading his copy of a 1956 book Gussie had found for him. I, reading my 1956 December McCall's from my stocking, also from Gussie and she in her pajama’s trying on the nice vintage kid gloves  and hat I bought for her. I began discussing the articles I was reading in my magazine, admiring my new coffee urn that matches my Temporama dishes and thought, ‘If someone were to suddenly drop down in our home at this moment they might (if they didn’t look out the window at any modern cars) think they were truly in 1956. Our house is old, much older than 1956, vintage clothes, magazines, dishes. Even our topic of conversation was casually about the article I was reading about the the little prince and princess of England Charles and Anne. Yet, we still are very modern in many ways. It seems, without my conscience effort any longer, we have seamlessly meshed the past and present.
It leaves me realizing how the coming year will still find me reporting from the past (most likely 1957) yet still just living my ‘normal’ life and sharing that with you. And normal for me is rather a mix of the old and new. But, in many ways, I have always been rather comfortable with the past. There was a time when I mostly read books:history, novels, philosphy, etc from the 19th century and earlier. If it was published after 1930 I had little interest in it. I felt a kinship for the old, a look back and what was. Of course college in the 1990’s was hardly an inspiring decade. A sea of torn jeans and flannel shirts, grunge was des rigueur. Even the art world was rather bland, the expressionism and pop art having faded to a bland or shocking move towards performance and process. So, in many ways, my life was probably always on a course towards the past, yet for me in some ways I have come more into the future. The 1950’s were really a new modern world. Of course, prior to my trip to 1955, I had sort of taken on the malaise of the modern urban dweller. Jeans and Uggs. Shopping and materialism. Yet, in my own art, I always found myself portraying or considering the 19th century. As if my true life was simply waiting to be born after being cocooned in the modern for a decade or so.
Now, with  the approaching year I do find myself wanting to look more specifically to art. To the expression in pictures and words. In many ways I consider the past two years almost as a performance piece as well as my life. Now, with 1950’s being such a normal aspect to me, I feel like I can actually express something I should care about in an ‘artful’ way.
Now, of course you all know I consider the art of the Home to be, in fact, an Art form. Running and planning a home, the preparation of meals and the making of clothes, even cleaning all are true art forms. Ones in which I still am a student, yet consider it is a lifetime classroom. But, I have of late come to want to express myself artfully in a more specific representational way. In pictures and words. A children’s book, paintings, drawings these sorts of things. And I think they shall play a major role in my coming year.
My site, a year long attempt that, right now, I am rather disappointed in, needs to be simplified and streamlined so that I might focus more on my creating and then simply sharing with you. More time to discuss the art world and also the art forms of the home as well. I think a good homemaker can talk Rembrandt and Redecorating and Cleaning, don’t you?
So, here comes the new year and I hope all are getting ready to face it with new challenges and new excitement in improvement and joy in the Home and family. Happy Homemaking.
I will close with this song, “He’ll be coming down the chimney” which was the official Christmas seal song of this year, 1956, sung by Rosemary Clooney. I could not find her version of it, so here is Guy Lombardo’s version.

And here is a  wonderful Home Movie from 1956 Christmas. From my Vintage Heart to all of you, Happy Christmas and A Wonderful Holiday!

16 December 1956 "1956 is slipping away"

This month seems to be slipping away from me, as does 1956. How is it that this is the end of the second year of what was a project and is now a life?

I have been so busy this past week. We had our cocktail party last night and the day before I was busy making and preparing for the day. It was a hit and we all had such fun. Now, here we are one week away from Christmas.

I have been rather bad at my daily posts and again, the site has been waiting for me. I have new plans for it but have not uploaded anything new as I am waiting, almost on myself, for concrete decisions for 1957.

I shall share photos of the party and other things later, but I rather think I need the rest of today to clean up and unwind. I had a guest who stayed over from the party and we had a lovely time gabbing away until a few minutes ago. I shall clean up, prepare for this evenings meal and take some time to wrap some gifts and finish up stitches on a homemade gift.

I hope all are enjoying the days leading up to this big holiday and are having fun making gifts or enjoying a reasonable  shopping. I would like to think more people are wisely spending less this holiday season, but I heard shopping is up from last year. I suppose we have short term memory when it comes to recalling the 'big crash' of a few years ago.

Until later then, Happy Homemaking and Happy Christmas Prep time.

12 December 1956 "Q & A Sunday: What does tomorrow bring"

I sort of cheated with today's Q&A because I am really asking myself: "What will next year be".
Honestly, I don't think I have the entire answer right now, nor if it even is of interest to anyone. I had planned to talk more about meal planning and such, but that will have to wait.
I don't know. I have just, this month, been really peculating the past two years in my head. All that I have learned and  accomplished, all the mistakes and successes they are really starting to sort of float to the surface; the cream on my milk if you will.
I know that next year WILL be another project year. It has come to mean to me, these past two years, much to have a very goal driven focused aspect to the coming year. It gives one hope and reach. I feel I need to go there.
What I have been coming to realize is that in many ways, the molding of myself into a middle class homemaker is, in some ways, an almost course of study one needs to become a mother. The need to create and nest to make that place in which to grown and raise children happily and successfully.
However, hubby and I are still very much undecided in that realm. I have sort of given myself a two year time limit to make that final decision. And, I feel in many ways if the idea of an actual child does not pan out, the child of art will still be in me. The need to nurture and create and live within a sort of 'idealized' world that I would want for a child might then be transferred to art. In that I mean, creating tangible things, be it paintings, clothes, what have you. And not, I now find, with any real sense of commercialism.
The one element I have learned these past two years is how much the commercial world DOES play in our modern lives. That element which, though not vanishing, really was diminished here in the 1950's really resonates with me. The idea of creating art simply and soley for its sake, much as I would create a child and help build their life for their sake, not for any future gain or hope other than their happiness. This seems, to my own personality, a very healthy almost freeing realization in the terms of creation.
In many ways I have really begun to see these past two years not only as the best and hardest course of study I have taken, but in a way an almost conceptual art piece. The two years, taken together, in a way are my 'performance piece' and again, not for anyone nor for any grant or recognition or purpose, but because I was driven to know and understand.
In that 'piece' then, I have come to appreciate and realize the art and beauty in the simple. To know the artist in all we homemakers, the sheer talent in the fold of the crease, the steam of the iron, the table setting, the glaze on the ham, the smile on our friends and family at a party we have made or the smell of bread fresh from the oven. These things, these very visceral poignant moments were to me often elevated to the feeling I have got in a great museum or a European Cathedral. Not in their ability to mystify nor make me wonder in my smallness, but to make me relish and enjoy the beauty of the moment in my own small yet amazing way.
I certainly see the term 'artist' in a broader sense. I see the countless mothers and women out there as artists working in the medium of family, home, food, fashion, life; living itself, the making of a home is and should be seen as an art form. And art, in its purest sense isn't done to shock or show off or even be sold, but done because the artist is drawn to do it. It is made becasue the artist cannot imagine NOT doing it and striving to improve it is part of that process. And Homemakers, all of us despite our different takes or various skills, are artists. We all strive daily to improve that piece of art work, that ultimate performance piece: The Home and Family.
So, this is really not a post at all but simply a stream of consciousness I am now feeling. I hope, for those of you who have followed me this far in my journey, will stick around to see what next year, my 1957 might be. I hope, in some wonderful cathartic moment, to know just what that will be come the 31st of December. We shall see.
But, in the mean time, even though my posting for this month has been erratic and not as informative as it has been in the past, know I am thinking of you all and relishing and reveling in all your artistic greatness as homemakers. I salute all of you.

15 November 1956 “Pin Money Weekend and War Time Mentality”

  This weekend I felt a bit of a ‘Working Woman’. My friend and I made up some batches of jams, cookies and candies and participated in a local craft sale.
Here is my partner in crime with our booty for sale. We even took the time to print up labels and made aprons to wear with our ‘logo’. We wanted to make it seem more professional. I think it did help as we almost sold out of everything. Here is the little logo we had ironed on our bib aprons. We used a similar one for our tags to label our jam and candies. I found, this past week, a new joy in candy making. It was my first time trying it and loved it. The science of it was rather fun. Here are two pans of my brittle waiting to set.A fun closeup ‘landscape’ of the stuff.And a little bag all prepared for the sale. I made quite a few fun varieties and the recipe I made from trying a few different versions and tweaking it until I liked the taste. My little sample dishes sold the product for everyone who popped in a taste immediately bought one.
What I discovered, this weekend, quite by chance was the temptation and lure of working outside the home. Quite without any forethought, I had actually thrust myself into a little mini-experiment. I took a contented 50’s homemaker (me) and suddenly placed her in a business setting where I received money for my work.
My hubby and I consider the money he earns to be ‘our money’ as I work just as hard (harder according to him) at home, so therefore I am earning that money as well. I also consider my work here, on my blog and site, as ‘unpaid’ work in that I enjoy it and I do it for others as well as myself. It is my ‘ladies' club work’ similar to committee and voluntary work a middle class homemaker would have fit into her schedule. Of course, this would have been unpaid work, as it is for me.
So, having been so long removed from that ‘work world’ where where does a specific task and then is given money, it was odd, really. Here, at the end of it, I find myself thinking of our 1940’s sisters. And, in fact, my own marriage would have happened during the war and so I most likely would have found myself in the working world while hubby was off defending the country. To many women, this was a much appreciated freedom. Yet to some, like me I think, it would be an unexpected one.
I love my homemaking. I find I have been my most fulfilled in this career and I have had many before this, so I do feel I have some form of comparison. Yet, having been ‘at home’ for the past two years, it suddenly felt quite real, as if I was an old time homemaker suddenly in a working environment. The comradery of the other women, for it was mostly women at this craft fair, the gossip and coffee in between sales. The chatting to complete strangers about your day and your wares and then receiving money from them and letting it stack up in your little envelope. It was, rather, thrilling really.
Now, here is what I found in my mini-experiment of two days: At first I rather thought, ‘hmmm, I could surely do this a bit more. The extra money would be lovely for sure.” Yet, by the end of yesterday I had found myself already planning out spending this as of yet un-earned money. Then hubby and I sat down and also figured out how much he had spent.
You see, though normally I am prepared with things ahead of time, the rush of candy making mixed with logo design, apron making and decals, preparing for the sale, it ate into my homemaking time. In two days of hubby having to get his own lunch at work and one breakfast out he spent half of his weekly cash allowance. I also ‘splurged’ and bought myself lunch as well, because I was too busy to bother once I got home and had to prepare for the next day.
You could see, how easily our modern lives get into that cycle. We must both work, so there is no specific chore set for anyone, so much of homemaking is left on the wayside. Both are tired and yet delusional that thinking two incomes are better than one, so both spend more on eating food bought and car fare and ‘treats’. I saw how easily, were I to take a job outside the home, I would need to really sit down and re-adjust my schedule so I could both do my homemaking and my outside work.
This lead to my next realization: Why did I instantly think it was my job to do both? I think many working women today find themselves more the homemaker than their hubby yet they make work just as much or even more than their hobby's outside the home? Why is this? Surely, after so many centuries of being the homemaker, when women were suddenly thrust into the work place during WWI and then WWII again, when the peace time came and some women continued to work, it just sort of happened. What is interesting to me is many women today write to me and tell me they are working women and they still do more than 90 % of the home and child care. In a way, what a raw deal for we ladies. Surely, we should be able to work in any thing we choose, I don’t want to give up women’s freedom, but have we taken on a new shackle of servitude by simply thinking, “Oh well, I guess I do the house things and work” without wondering why?
I still wonder, too, if many women who currently work could actually become a one income family (obviously one needs a partner for this of course). I recall one follower telling me she and her hubby lived a year with her working but not using any of her income for anything but savings to see if they could manage with just his salary. A very sound plan and a good way to ease one into a single salary lifestyle.
Now, back to our wartime sisters. Here they are, the little dears, content little homemakers, very little contact with the outside world save the grocers and shop keepers and other stay at home ladies. Suddenly they are thrust into an environment that really is much out of their control. I don’t care what anyone says about the cage or oppression of a Homemaker, we have almost total control over our days. WE decide when and how things get done. We might be the worker, but we are also the boss. So, to suddenly have an actual boss, and most likely a strange older man, telling us when and where to be and how to do something must have felt strange and odd. Also, the rush out of the house in the morning and the return in the evening exhausted.
I felt last night, after only two days out, how lovely it would have been to come home to my own homemaker, a warm meal, a smile and nice conversation. A clean home and no worries of the dishes. I certainly appreciated what I do EVEN more after just this weekend of working out and coming home to have to only ‘catch back up’.
Those women, then, with their new freedom of work and comradery amongst other ladies and men who were not their husbands or relatives, what an odd change it must have all been. To many, it was as freedom they were happy to keep. Some, I am sure, were unhappy to give it up after the war, but the men did deserve their jobs back, as they had literally risked their lives while away. But, I think there must have been some ladies who enjoyed their time out in the working world, but found their being at home again even more wonderful. The joy of again having control over one’s own day, the quiet and simple comforts of the home. And, really, the less chaotic home life as time spent with family was fun and not ‘rushing about to catch up all the time’. Certainly, one cannot argue that vanishing of a stay at home mother has really made home life completely different from once it once was. Many people may complain that their children won’t or couldn’t enjoy more time at home or more ‘family time’ but really, why should they? They have never really had it as they were growing up. Day care, school at earlier ages, play groups, sports and outside ‘classes’. All of these things make them busy little people who do need their own palm pilot to keep their schedules in order. To suddenly expect such busy little child ‘executives’ to be happy at home of a Sunday evening playing snakes and ladders after a crazy week of day care, video games at friends, trips and classes and I don’t know what, is probably not realistic.
Now, I am not saying this is good or bad. It is simply different. The very nature of the nuclear family has changed greatly since the 1950’s. Yet, even that was a new thing at the time. Before the War, many families still lived in the ‘old way’ in which extended family, such as grandparents, married couples and their children and unmarried aunt’s, uncles, or cousins would often make up a household had suddenly stopped. The new increase in money and building allowed the nuclear family we associate with the mid century to be born. Yet, it seemed short lived. Now, we have the same make up of parents and children, but much more time is spent outside the home. We moved further and further from the supportive concept of relatives to just  a parent group and now even that parent group is outdated and children are often more raised by others and machines. What is the next step, I wonder?
I think what is sad about the loss of the old pre 1950’s system was how much more economical and good it was all round. Surely relatives got on one another’s nerves all living together, but Grandma and Grandpa felt needed and helped raised the grandchildren (no day care costs and no wonder as to how the children are being raised) This also was nice for the elderly as opposed to simply living in old people facilities we have today. We just, for whatever reason, have become more and more separated from one another since the post WWII days. It is rather sad, really.
So, I found myself tempted by the outside ‘working world’. I began tallying up my ‘earnings’ before I received them and soon was planning away my days further away from my hubby and my home. It happens so quickly and so easily. Yet, back at home, catching back up from this weekend, putting my home to rights and sitting here in my little sitting room, makes me realize for me at least, Home is where my heart AND my work is. While I may still do a craft fair here and there to sell some candy and take orders, it will be pin-money only work. I will squirrel it away for a rainy day and be happy for it. But, I don’t think I could go back to the old rhythms of my life. The flow and structure of homemaking these past two years have become far too interesting and rewarding to me to find myself on the rocks lulled by the Siren song of the workplace. I gladly put on my apron and return to the kitchen, for to me it is a choice and one I cherish and am thankful for having the choice to make.
I do recommend, though, to any of you who could try it or would like to have a go at it with some ‘talking into’ with your hubby, it is worth a go. You may, at least, find yourself even happier to work outside the home again, not wanting to be a drudge at home. Or, you might find yourself blossoming and finding all theses skills and abilities you’d never thought you had appearing like buds in a Spring garden.
Well, back to my own home and have a lovely day. Happy Homemaking.

29 October 1956 “Halloween Treats, Recipes and Memories”

Halloween is in the air.
Here’s a great Louis Armstrong Halloween song.

I thought I would share some recipes from the Betty Crocker Cookbook for boys and girls. There is still time, I believe, to use them before this Halloween.
This is the original 1957 version and you can buy a nice reprint in the shop  HERE. They start at around $11.   This is the version I shared with you. It is also available in the store HERE and starts at $8, these are not reprints but originals, I believe. I don’t think I earn any pennies from this last one, but it is a good book, so I put it in there for you.
These books are great as they are meant to be used BY children to cook. It is amazing when you think of the level of cooking, including cakes, that they have for children. Such a wonderful gift to give to a child, the ability to cook and bake.
Here is the Halloween Party menu with recipes from that book. Don’t you love the jack-o-lantern cake? It is so clever and meant to be doable by a child. Though I think mother’s help might be needed for the very young. The candy corn teeth are wonderful. I may have to try this myself!
 
I think this is such a great costume. It is almost surreal. I like that children used to go as random things, scary, fun so on. Though some may have coveted the new ‘store bought’ costumes, as did this girl here (Read her Blurb on the site where I found this photo), her actual home-made costume, which includes a hulu hooped bottom, is almost Mardi Gras quality.
Here is an example of the coveted 50’s store-bought costume. And these:
I have to say, many of  children that trick or treat in our downtown, here in Sandwich, actually have some really wonderful home-made costumes. Though, many cape children are subjected to the mall for Halloween, although they probably love it. I noticed more ‘store-bought’ costumes on those children, not sure why.
I also recall the decorations I had as a child were actually those left over from my parents 50’s start with children. As my older siblings were actually born in the early 1950’s, I grew up with many vintage items. It seemed my Halloween decorations were always a bit different than my friends.
I recall getting down the decorations box from the attic in early October labeled, “Halloween”. There was always a subsequent smell associated with these, a sort of musty-moth ball mingled with a scent, undescribable, that sent elation through me. Every year when I was young, I would go through all the old costumes (and I mean all the costumes that my brothers and sisters had had for many years) try them on, parading around. I would play this game every year, sorting through trying to see what I might want to be, only to decide something new that my mother would have to make. It was a sort of unspoken rule that we had with our Halloween.
And, of course, this was followed by decorating. All the old paper and crepe paper decorations would be carefully lifted out. I remember black cats with metal joints, so they moved.  A  full sized witch that did they same, pumpkins and there was  a happy little child dressed as a hobo. And there were the various vintage noise makers (of which I still have a few and see they sell for a mint on ebay) that were fun to clang and rattle and blow upon.
Part of the fun I recall from my own real Halloweens in the late 70’s was getting to run about in the dark. Of course you would have a parent with you, but you would be in a group of fellow costumed compatriots and you always outnumbered the adults. There you were, getting to run about the streets at night arrayed in your finery. Your vision would be partially skewered due to whatever contraption you were wearing that year. There always seemed to be the sound of your own breath pumping with the rhythm of your heartbeat. Running on the pavement, the crunch of leaves and the squeals of your companions was often muffled by papier mache’ or ill-placed sheets. We would rate the decorations on various houses, complain if we received pennies, apples or ‘pal’ gum (it wouldn’t last all day). And we would revel in homemade treats: Popcorn balls, candied apples, rice crispy treats died green or orange laden with candy corn or red hots, an occasional cupcake with a plastic pic you could secret away later. The night was crisp and cool and we were out after dark.   Allowed to wear whatever we wanted and let loose upon the world of grownups where they were required to give us treats or face the consequences. I don’t recall ever administering any tricks, other than the occasional grab and run you might try when some childless candy giver would offer up a bowl and a “Take what you like”. Of course, if mother saw you, you had to give some back, but parents were often busy gabbing away on Halloween, so it was a kid free for all.
I also remember the count, stash, and trade that followed a good haul. You would  be slumped on the floor, your booty dumped before you from your pillow case, plastic jack-o-lantern, or bag, ready to deal. Like a Moroccan trader on Market day, you were ready to deal : “Okay, I have two bit-o-honey’s for a mini snickers” “That popcorn ball is worth more than that”.
And, of course, there were your favorites that weren’t even on the trading table. And the requisite ‘bad candy’ that no one even wanted for free, the little orange and black taffy’s that always seemed to come out by the millions at Halloween. I don’t know if they make these any longer, but they seemed to be produced in the millions when I was a kid. No one knew where they came from, they just appeared at the end of October and were strewn everywhere. There always seemed to be some in the kitchen ‘candy drawer’ and you’d find them hidden in pockets of jackets or bottoms of school cubbies. They were the kind of candy a parent might try to placate you with and you would rather just give up on the candy hunt and go out and play.
Well, have a happy Halloween and Happy Homemaking.

27 October 1956 “Grey Skies are Gonna Clear Up”

First off, thank you for the lovely ‘cheer up’ comments. It was rather silly of me to post an ‘I’m blue’ post, but I am glad I did. Because it was an almost experiment within the day for me. You see, I was feeling rather blah and blue and not really for any one particular thing. However, the result by the end of the day certainly has shown me that I have made a positive change in my life.
Let me explain: Yesterday I felt rather down, and this made me focus on things, such as my ideas on how to move out of this year into the next, in an odd light. I sat down, and moped a bit. The old me, the pre-1955 me, would have moments like this fairly often and my answer was usually, “I need some shop thereapy, I deserve it”. This would be followed by a mad rush to get ready hop in the car or go out the door (when living in the city) and the adrenalin would kick in. There would be some wasteful shopping for things I didn’t need with money I really didn’t have, followed by the requisite stop at a coffee house for a 5 dollar coffee, a 3 dollar muffin and a moment of ‘rest’. Yet, once home, this was always followed by a new type of sadness and realization that I had just spent more money and wasted more time.
Another pre-1955 option for me was to pop on the Tele or pop in a video. This movie or show will make me feel better. And, off I would go into a dream world for two hours, only then finding myself not having done anything for the day and then feeling bad about that.
Now, one would think living in a ‘dream world’ of make-believe 1950’s could be bad on the psyche,  but quite honestly, all it has done has taught me to be a better person. I feel better in that I deal with my emotions on an entirely different level and often, at the end of my day, look back and feel proud of my accomplishments.
So, yesterday I felt a little blue and made my post. But, I still had to make an apple pie to take for dinner at my MIL. Normally I would have done that the day before or early that morning, but feeling blue. I therefore had to throw myself into it. I went into the kitchen and prepared to make my traditional crust. I sometimes use the easy make in the pan crust I have shared with you before, but for a good old fashioned pie, I make my traditional lard crust. It was an odd sensation. I really take most of my vintage life in stride now, but having been rather blue and than needing to push myself through it, I felt a change. I was happy and actually beaming when I was done. The act of getting my lard and butter from the freezer (keeping it cold is one of the tricks to a flaky crust), measuring, mixing, rolling out, paring apples and so on. I was lost in what I was doing, enjoying it and really forgetting about myself for a moment.
That little lesson learned was so priceless to me at that moment. That shinning pie (I forgot my camera at my MIL but I used her camera and will get a picture for you later)full of apples and ready for the oven, it made me feel good. Here I had made something to be enjoyed by others with my own hands. There  was an artistry to it and a great feeling of accomplishment. And it gave back to me again when we ate it after our dinner of Beef Borgenionne by MIL prepared for us. It was flaky and wonderful and I felt proud of that pie.
It really just drove home what I have been continually discovering here on my journey. That to not overly focus on ones ‘emotions of the moment’ but to get on with it really makes a difference. I am kept in mind of the UK WWII poster Keep calm and carry on, and really what sound advice. I don’t mean to ignore your emotional state, but when one begins to wallow in them, as I once did, really there is no solution to it, only a revisit of the sadness.
We modern people are given so many opportunities to really wallow in our sadness or blues. It is easy to feel bad for a moment, a normal human reaction and then to immediately go to that place where we say, “Oh, I will just play on the computer, pop on the TV, pop in that video, grab that magazine until I feel better” and sometimes it might help. But, for me at least, Action seems to be the best cure for melancholy. To go about and do things, things which we all know we must do, honestly does help to ‘clear those blues away’.
When I think of my state of mind pre 1955, I am sometimes amazed at how often I was depressed. And, I don't want it to sound phony or seem disingenuous when I say, since starting my project I am less depressed. Because it honestly is true. Sure, I feel blue or have blah days, but usually my dealing with them is to continue on through it and then I find the result of a simple task or chore is actually enjoyed MORE because it has both alleviated the blues AND made me feel all the more proud of having done it. As the song says, “We gotta accentuate the positive”

This is the lesson that I am now trying to apply to my over all lifestyle as I move out of 1956. I am certainly not going to give up the majority of my 1950’s life. I don’t think I nor my husband would want to. It has become such a part of who we really are now, that it would be like unplugging ourselves somehow. I find it interesting that the changes from the modern to the past, though sometimes trying or harder than expected, always seemed to somehow result in a happier symmetry for the pair of us.
Now, as the new year approaches part of my project will surely be, how will I bring in more ‘modern things’ into my life and then how they evolve into our vintage life. I think the aspect of still following along the year with the history of 1957 will be important, though, as I have begun to feel I want to really learn each year through a year. However, with that, I have been learning, as this year is ending, to do more modern things with a website and so on. I have even found that with a thing like Facebook, my approach to it now is much better than it would have been pre 1955. The old me would have spent hours on there updating things, searching about for others and so on. How I approach it now is simply log on, cut and paste my latest post, look who has joined up, maybe give a thumbs up to someone and I am off. Yet, I feel these things, these digital moments are very much a part of the modern world. But, I have learned to not be owned by them.
In fact, my computer use couldn’t be more like office work. I am never spending hours playing games on it, nor endlessly searching for clothes or things to buy, nor even chatting or ‘i-m-ing’ or what have you. In a way, my project has allowed me to face modern technology with a more detached and, I feel, healthier approach. For me at least, it is healthier.
This is the same with TV. I don’t think we will be re-installing modern tv into our lives. Hubby and I are too accustomed to the quiet of the house where one is more inclined to read books, listen to a radio program, write/type, play the piano or simply visit. When friends come to our house, we sit and play cards, laugh and visit. It can be very vintage in that. When we go to others house, if they have the TV on, then I simply adapt to it.
However, with the computer, one could easily use it as a TV. As I said, I recently watched part of a show a fellow Apronite was kind enough to share with us. It is a UK show about a food critic and a comic who spend a week in a time period through food. I thought I would enjoy it more, but found that I really could not. It wasn’t that the actors were necessarily bad, but the way modern TV is edited, so short choppy , I find it hard to follow. I realized this has changed about me in the past two years. Modern TV and media seems to be almost what one would use for a toddler with little attention: Bright colors, loud noise, funny sounds. For someone who, other than the computer and honestly it is a glorified typewriter and set of encyclopedias to me, it is almost annoying. So, TV, I am afraid, may need to stay in the modern out of reach world for me. I am curious about Mad Men, a show I watched before 1955, but now I understand they are even further into the 1960’s so not sure I want to watch it. It might make me sad and then I will have to bake TWO apple pies.
So, again, thank you all. I am glad to have said I was sad, only so I can share how I dealt with it now compared to the ‘old me’. My continual use of this blog and the site will always be vintage inspired. And in fact my forays into the modern world are almost primarily to make it better and more accessible to more people. Because, I honestly feel as if I have discovered the elixir vital, if you will, that drink of life that is secreted away from all. To really look back and then look forward from that vantage point honestly does help you to get a better perspective on your present.
As for next year, it might be fun to do a month of 1940’s say, with clothes and food and so on. As to the 1930’s as well, to better flesh out the life I would have lead in the 1950’s having come from those places. But, the technology and the ability to use it as a tool and not be used by it will also continue to become a process a lesson and part of my project. What better way to share one’s happiness with others than by using the technology available to one at the time.
Thank you for coming along with my on this odd journey. And I hope you continue to do so, as I feel we have so much to learn and share together. I think this will be as ‘modern’ as I get.
Happy Homemaking.

27 September 1956 “They Don’t Make Things Like They Used To”

The other day my old tires finally gave out. I have a vintage 1950’s ladies bike. When I purchased it at the beginning of my project I remember how excited I was. I had found it on a local craigslist ad and it had sat in someone’s basement for years. It had been the gentleman’s wife’s bike. It had the original tires on it, which of course were flat. So, I assumed I needed new one.
 (my bike was proudly made in Westfield MA)
I immediately took it to a local bike shop, which was a rather busy place, and told them I wanted white walls. They nodded, looked at me a little strangely, slipped a tag on her and set her aside. One month later, I realized it was not going to get done, so I rescued her, flat tires an all, and returned her home. Uncertain what to do next, hubby said, “Well, let’s at least pump up the tires and see if they can be repaired”. To our amazement, not only did they not need repair, they held air wonderfully! So, I felt even more authentic traveling about on my vintage tires.
About a month ago I came out to hop on the ole’ gal and saw the back tire was low. We pumped it up and heard the tell-tale whistle. My heart was broken. But, living in a new town now, we went to this local bike shop where they were much friendlier and also had more time, it being the end of summer.
I left her with him and came back in the half hour I had been told only to see my bike still tireless. “The tires today are wider than back then” he told me. “They will hit the frame”. I was sad, for sure, as he was even able to find white wall tires. But after some calling, he found a pair of thinner white walls. They were more expensive and more than I was willing to pay. But, my good friend, who was with me, chimed in and said, “I will buy them for you for your birthday”.
Now, normally I would not accept such a gift, but this friend bikes with me all the time and would hate to lose my company and she and my other biking friend, who we were to meet later that day, decided to split the cost. So, I gave in, happily.
Now, when I went to pick up the bike the other day, I jokingly said to the gentleman, “Will these last 60 years like the old tires”. To which he laughed. “No, maybe three to four years if you keep them dry. They don’t make things like they used to”.
That last statement really hit me. It is true, they don’t. But why don’t they, I wondered?
So, why did my 1950’s tires last longer? From what limited information I can find, it seems they may have simply been more rubber. Today tires are made of three components a  bead to hold the tire onto the rim and layers of fabric then rubber over that making the tread. I assume this is sold as a ‘superior’ way of making tires, quicker, more efficient etc. But, I have a strong feeling it is cheaper and therefore they wear out faster as opposed to the higher rubber quantity of older tires.
This, to the modern person, means very little. We are always sold on ‘newer, quicker, better’. We are so far removed from, “It is built to last” that the very concept might even be laughable to some. “Why would I want that in a few years? It will be out of date or style”.
Look at our cell phones or any of our expensive and often used technology. We never think, “Hmmm, this will be the computer I have forever, my grandchildren will use it”. Because it isn’t really practical considering the level at which the technology advances. But, with clothes, bikes, appliances, furniture?
Do we need sleek fast cutting edge clothes and furniture? Shouldn’t we want and expect our things to last and have a good quality. And, if things were built with a  style that could be appreicated, instead of a bunch of things thrown together in bright packaging and sold cheaply, we might actually consider wanting those ‘old things’ around more.
Recently I heard that Oneida was reissuing the famous sets of Russel Wright designed pottery called “American Modern”. This was such a popular thing in its time, it was the highest selling pottery around and most likely someone had at least a pitcher, some plates or cups.
Now, with the resurgance of mid-century design and people clammoring after 1950’s era items, the original pieces can often sell rather high. Yet, if one takes the time to look and carefully collect up a set, a piece here and there, spending more on the original may be wiser than this re-issue. But, first, let’s learn about Russell Wright:

Wright is best known for his colorful American Modern dinnerware, the most widely sold American ceramic dinnerware in history, manufactured between 1939 and 1959 by Steubenville Pottery in Steubenville, Ohio. He also designed top selling wooden furniture, spun aluminum dining accessories and textiles. His simple, practical style was influential in persuading ordinary Americans to embrace Modernism in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s.

Wright and his wife wrote this very famous book. It helped to change the way the new nuclear family lived, ate, really thought about their living space. I do have it in the corner store HERE, but it is rather expensive.

This made me realize another difference between 1950’s and present day. In the 1950’s, though many new and varied items were coming out and being marketed like never before, Americans still wanted to know:

1. It was built to last
2. fit into their budget
3. made in the USA

What Wright was doing was bringing a well designed item that was relevant to the quickly evolving time in which he lived and having it well made as well as accessible to most people. This does not mean it was one dollar a plate at Wal-Mart, but it did mean one could collect up a set over time. Mother could receive that gravy boat at Christmas. There was more a sense of one waiting and hoping and then getting the desired object. Today there is so much instant gratification, we have lost those elements that make owning something more fun or worthwhile. We live like spoiled rich children, yet we have no money or savings and are in debt.
S0, back to Oneida re-introducing the American Modern dishes collection. The glaring difference which I noticed was that it is not made in Ohio any longer (Steubenville Pottery went out of business in 1959 and was bought by Canonsburg pottery which went out of business in 1975) When it was created in the 1950’s it was made affordable for all (not what we would consider cheap today but more affordable than fine china) and it also was produced within the united states, including the clay being created here as well. Now, the Oneida version allows one to pop over to Bed Bath and Beyond, or what have you, and buy up the entire collection in one fell swoop. Ta-dah! Instant esthetics. There is one very interesting point, however, this china is made IN CHINA! So a product known for its very American ideal designed by an American Designer and produced in America is now mass produced in China.
I found a few sites that did a sort of quality test and their biggest concern was that it could be differentiated from the ‘real thing’ so as not to hurt the market for the actual vintage dishes. What is amazing to me is that if one likes mid-century design, and apparently subscribes to that esthetic, wouldn’t all that made it what it was be important too? That means the very American craftmanship of it. Yet, today, we simply take old molds or make new ones to copy it and off it goes to be mass produced cheaply in China so we can instantly fill our over-glutted cupboards with more things.
I think what is frustrating to me is, why couldn’t an American pottery concern be contracted to make the things. They would cost a little more, but so what? Instead of buying the entire set in one day, you would have to acquire it over time. But, again, that would be part of the joy of owning it. Isn’t there something lost when we just simply get something quick and cheap?
I have really been thinking about this a lot lately. How so much of the production and selling of basic goods or artistic elements in our homes are simply owned and sold by the big box stores. Where there was once individuals and couples, like the Wrights and the Eames’ who were American Designers, living a very American experience and then taking that artistacally and translating it into dinnerware, furniture, lifestyles one could respond to, today we either just cheaply reproduce this or simply let board meetings of marketing groups decide what it is we will like based on how cheaply and quickly they can get it into our hands. The very design esthetic of living, therefore, also seems to be owned by the corporation.
Now, I know many of you dislike when my blog gets ‘poliltical’ but sometimes it cannot be helped. And I wonder if we simply assign the term ‘political’ to things when we don’t want to face them. Many of us like, admire, ascribe to or strive towards a mid-century lifestyle. Rather it is the clothing, the design, the very nature of people in that time, we seem to feel something is missing. And I think that main element missing from today that was prevalent at the time was genuineness or pure experience. Today so many seem almost props on a stage, as if there is nothing behind it. People’s motives and the over all general aspect of modern life, at least to me, has an almost disingenuous or false quality to it. And I think the reason for that is we are not engaged in our lives in the way we once were. We have no say in the production, design, and overall affect of our own country because we have let so much of it be dictated to and presented to us by a few people in charge. Our own towns and local areas are not colored by the people in them, but by the vague and generalized feeling of TV shows, internet and what is in the Large Corporate stores that you can see and go to in ANY town. We have, in many ways, lost some of our humanity.
I know, this sounds like a wide leap of reasoning from a bike tire to here, but it seems to follow a path. I am not really sure what can be done about it. I know we say shop local, and that does help, but our options for that is limited. We need, somehow, to both by old and reuse the good ole’ stuff, but also to really start thinking about how to build up our economy with more small local production. I wish I could start a pottery concern, now, and we could have local designers and people who are experiencing our way of life interpret that into products made and distributed within our own borders. As it is now, every year we lose less and less of our production, we receive more and more money from outside our borders to continue this lifestyle of self hurting.
How can we try and fix our towns, cities, states and therefore our country? Is it fixable? Does it matter? Maybe I am just the one idiot feeling this and I should somehow figure out how to get back to that ‘old me’ and just take the red pill and quietly resume my place among the consumers. I honestly don’t know. I hope this post does not seem to political nor too dark, but I do feel increasingly this disconnect from the modern world that has me worried. I don’t think it is just because I am trying to live in another time, but because of it I see all the flaws in my own real time. Flaws that I want to fix because I honestly believe it would make for a better world.
It seems to me even things that once didn’t seem connected are now really connected to the way we do live now. Even children or how teens behave today, or the current state of our welfare state and on and on. All of this seems to somehow be connected to the very core that a vast majority of us live so disconnected from reality (yes this being said by a woman pretending to live in the 1950’s) that we cannot see all these problems are interconnected. It is as if we have no hope or control over our own country. From what we are meant to like or be concerned about, to what we wear, eat, live in or how we spend seems to be coming from some outside source that subtly makes those choices for us.
I almost did not post this because I don’t want to seem preachy or off-my-rocker. It is just that for myself, the person that used to be happily plugged into the modern world, a great consummer, my very esthetics and ideals, my language and expectations from somthing as simple as entertainment to even what I expected from other people has vastly changed once I saw what it COULD be or HAD been once. Some may say, “You are looking with Rose colored glasses” but rose colored glasses do not deal with facts. It IS a fact that the dishes I was speaking of WERE designed and manufactured in THIS country and now are not. It is a fact that Teens once dressed what we would now consider (more conservatively) and treated one another differently but there WERE less teen pregnancy (4% in the 50’s to 40% today). It is a FACT that there was LESS TV only available during certain hours and people got more things done in one day than now.  It is a FACT that the the GDP grew in spite of the fact that real estate was valued more realistically toward the average incomes. It was more realistic to live on one income for a couple, yet credit cards and easy high interest loans and debit cards were not there. It is a fact that the way one felt about buying on credit was not looked on the same way as it is today. College was considered important for some but not needed for ALL no matter financial circumstances. There was not as much Concern of Waste and Garbage BUT there were not even  half of the ‘throw away’ things we have today. These are facts that are there for any one to find and read.
So, Things aren’t made the way they are used to does not have to be a ‘fact of life’ but could be a ‘message to us to wake up’. We shouldn’t just accept cheaper things shoddily made outside our country. No one is holding a gun to our head forcing us to spend and spend. If we slow down and see what it is we are doing with our lives and look to our community, then maybe we can get to that point when a few people can think about taking those first tentative steps toward small scale local production, if they feel their friend, neighbors, and community will want to purchase that product, even if it IS cheaper at Wal-Mart.
I hope this post makes sense and believe you me, I have seriously contemplated trying, in some manner, to simply let myself slip slowly back into the old me. Because, it was easier to be that person, to not think as much and just spend and not care about tomorrow. Yet, today, even with the sometimes feeling of hopelessness, I feel the most genuine and alive than I have ever felt. Making my own, caring for what is considered the ‘little things’ or the ‘silly things’ does make ME happier at least.
So, what do any of you think? Am I right? And is there a way to get back to having more general control over our towns/country? Those of you who live outside the USA, how much do you feel our USA ‘culture’ affects where you live, i.e. McDonalds, American TV/Movies/music, American products?
I just want to add that I don't want to be to 'on my soapbox' because I honestly feel as if we can successfully work within the system that we now have and yet begin to just think differently. Maybe we replace a thing here or there that is made in the USA or local. And maybe we, if we are so inclined or have friends who are so inclined, to think about actual production in this country. Maybe we could open a dialog about starting a collective for something like pottery or making fabric or such things locally. Even simply researching your own part of the country and see what used to be manufactured there that is no longer there. I am still very hopeful and I think we CAN make a difference and move forward with more say in our lives, towns, country, don't you?

11 September 1956 “What is a Vintage Life? Rosie the Riveter or June Cleaver?”

Recently, I received a comment from a follower that said:
I love your blog, but sometimes I think that what you are trying to express is a return to "civility", to the social norms of the first half of the 20th century, rather than to the specific decade of the 1950s. Your homesteading and self-sufficiency seems to be more pre-war than post. After the war we truly did want to forget our home front struggles, just as our men who served rarely spoke of their war front activities.
This got me thinking. Am I living a more pre-war life? Am I more Rosie the Riveter or June Cleaver? Does my desire to want to keep chickens, grow veg as well as pretty flowers, and can my own food and sew make me more 1940’s than 1950’s? And it isn’t as if I need to really just choose a decade, I just happen to like the positive feelings of the 1950s and how much ‘hope’ there was in the world. But, I also don’t want to fall prey to the easy plastic world which really was beginning in the late 1950’s.
I met a woman who would have been close to my age in the 1950’s. She lived on the Cape and still does. I met here volunteering at our local church run antique shop in town. I talked with her about this concept, my being more 1940’s than 1950’s because I chose to make more of my own, grow my food, keep chickens. She laughed and told me that the 1950’s must have been different everywhere. She, living in my old town (1600’s is pretty old for the United States) said the 1950’s in the movies was not the 1950’s here.
First of all, as I can plainly see, there were very few ‘new’ modern 1950’s homes in my town. There are some, but they are greatly outnumbered by Capes and Colonials that have seen 1650 as well as 1950. Living here in 1950 may have been the modern world, but plastic, wonder bread and gleaming but sterile green lawns were not the norm. In East Sandwich, a town outside of my own, new developments were started and one might find a row of typical 1950’s ranch, but by and large my town is house much older than the 1950’s.
“Maybe this lady is thinking of the newer parts of the country” she told me “When a town just sprang up out of an old farmer’s field. But here, on Cape, I was keeping chickens and canning in 1950’s.”
My town is, in some respects, a garden lover’s dream. Many people care greatly for their garden and their yards are full of lush roses and hydrangeas as well as pots of annuals and an equal smattering of vegetable. This, at least according to this fine lady, was true even then.
I think what I must remember( not as if I need to validate the ‘true living’ to myself, but I do want to express a true experience) is that much like today or 100 years ago, the decade in which you live is going to be lived differently depending on your area. The middle class homemaker of my age in 1956 here on Cape Cod certainly did not live like a homemaker in Wisconsin in a new suburb of cookie cutter houses. The families living outside of NYC in the growing suburbs also most likely lived a different life. And though many regional dialects and atitudes are all but gone thanks to shared media and tv, in 1956 a Cape Cod wife would have lived a very regional existence.
“Look,” she told me, “We live and breath history here on the Cape.  In 1956 I may have bought a new sofa, but my house was also filled with colonial antiques because they were my families. They were what was available around here. My vegetable garden was as much a pride to me as was my rose garden. I didn’t pack up the chickens because the war ended. They make the best soil for roses. We still canned and even traded recipes and shared jams and pickles amongst one another.”
In trying to recreate as well as study a time period as I am doing, I must remember that there is no one way to ‘be 1950’s.’ There is no one right or wrong way to live “A Vintage Life”. I find myself naturally falling into step with what local ladies in 1950’s would have done here because I AM here. My house is not a 1950’s ranch. I do have old furniture that people have sat in long before 1956. I have a nice little yard with room for veg and chickens and flowers and I naturally fill them with that.
I think, then, if any of us want to live a Vintage Life, no matter to what extreme, getting to know the traditions of our own area will make it all the more rich and real. We might only want to simply where some vintage clothes or perhaps just learn to cook and dress better, but to learn our regions history and social history, rather or not we implement it, is worth it.
As much as I have come to see how important it is for Women’s History to really study and understand the Homemaking arts and skills, so to is it important to understand where and how your community was built. The history of it’s buildings and economy is all worth the effort.
When I asked this lady if it was true,what my commenter said, that the men rarely spoke of their war activities, she laughed and then sort of went quite, thinking. “Well, I suppose we never really heard of the bad things the men must have gone through, but to say they didn’t talk about it is not true. The men, when they got together, loved to swap war stories. And though it must have been horrible what they went through, what they talked and laughed about were the good times. Roughing it and the comradery was always discussed with these men. In fact we women would often say such things as ‘oh, here comes another war story’.”
She told me they even often sang old war songs, such as this line that makes me laugh,

The biscuits in the Army, they say are mighty fine
one rolled off the table, and killed a friend of mine

And the refrain of that song almost brought a tear to my eye

I don’t want no more of Army life,
please mum I want to go, but they won’t let me go
please mum, I want to go home.

Maybe it is the New England spirit. The old curmudgeon who can get a nickel out of a penny if he squeezes hard enough. He remembers ancestors who had to literally fell forests to eek out existence. To them, hardship is merely the very stuff they are made of. Though the war was filled with unmentionable horror, they old New Englander still enjoyed a good gossip about the ‘war’ with the comradery of men around the old wood stove at the local general store.
Much like that song, with the raucous joke combined with the said refrain, ‘I want to go home’. And they did and when they returned they did not complain and go on about the horror of it. But they also recalled the good times, imbuing our communities with the very idea that, even in deadly hardships one can laugh and smile again. That is the never give up spirit I truly love about New England.
I felt better after learning this. I began to realize life, in any form, is really how we make it, but also colored by our town, our culture. We are lucky in this country in that if we do not like or feel any affiliation with our area, we can pick up and move and soon become a part of a different town a different history a different set of local values. That freedom is one thing our country prides itself on. And though we might be thought as an ‘outsider’ if we were to move to a new community, we know we would still be accepted because what is more flattering to a town than to know an outsider would like to be let inside. Just as the ladies at the old antique store are flattered that I have taken a part of my life to re-live and rekindle a time in their life that they not only loved but of which they were proud.
The civility and comradery of the past is like that. It is willing to take you on and, though you don’t really belong there, it welcomes you. Because you have bothered to blow the dust off and care and to realize that what has gone does not have to be forgot. And even though sometimes in the modern world I might fell much like that refrain from the old Army song to return to a time I did not belong: “Please mum I want to go home” I realize, the old adage is true: Home is where your heart is. Corny but sincere. And we can make our homes and our community and our lives the way we like it. That might be different for you than for me, but we can all agree on the love of the past won’t ever steer us wrong.
And after all, even June cleaver took off the pearls and got into the garden, didn’t she?

20 July 1956 “What I Did On My Summer Vacation”

Though this lovely Patti Page song will not be released until next year (1957) I thought I would share it with you.

Even though our ‘Staycation’ on the Cape is officially over, I suppose I know feel the need to do my ‘report’ on ‘my summer vacation’. I think it was a great rest and probably the best holiday we have had in some time. The travel was easy and cheap, the accommodations lovely, and the cost quite frugal.
When hubby and I decided to take our Staycation or Holiday at Home, we figured we would mostly rest and relax and that we did do. Yet, the first two days of our break together had us working on projects in the yard. A trip to the dump ( we are still clearing and organizing from our move here last summer and the condensing of two houses and a city apartment can leave quite a bit of work). But, it was joyful work. We felt as if we were coming here and ‘opening the cottage for the summer’. Therefore the work had fun to it.
It seems work away from home always feels different. Dishes in the cabin in the woods feels different than the sameness of those at home. But, we were still here at home, but our perception had changed. That seems to be an important factor, one’s perception. This is a real skill I have been developing ever since beginning this project. Though it was never officially on the list of ‘to-doing’, it had to happen. I am in 1955, a change of perception. It is normal to wear a girdle and hose and sew my own clothes, perception. We are off to a summer holiday, yet in the same place; Perception. It is a tool, an aide, much like imgaination that possibly doesnt’ get as much use as it once did. True, though, that one has to use a change of perception to live in our virtual digital world: we are not truly chatting in a room, yet we are communicating with others, so that is a sort of perception, I suppose.
It got me thinking how something as simple as a change of perception can really be a boon to our modern life. If we are frustrated with our jobs or traffic or noise, we can try to shift the perception of the moment. Stuck at work again, well, plan out a week of ‘after work fun’ and when you get home:half day holidays at your favorite place. Maybe pick a theme, shop for the food appropriate to it, Margaritas and Mexican Food, Cajun and Cocktails and French Accordion music. Get your friends or family involved and say good bye to the daily stress and enjoy your little mini staycation; Perception.
Part of my own relaxing that took place this week was my lessening of my chores. My homemaker duties are indeed my job, so to take a break from them just took a little basic planning. I decided an amount for dining out, bought extra easy to prepare treats, such as s’mores and ice cream cones, and ta-dah: Fun and relaxation! Letting the floors get a little dustier, not baking or doing too many chores, one is more forgiving of ones environment in their ‘beach cottage’. Sand on the floor here, its character and charm. Flip flops and wet bathing suits are simply atmosphere to the moment.
This made me realize, though I thoroughly enjoyed my break from these things (and I did have a quite little fear that I would undo a year and a half of work to get where I am with housework) I found today, as I kissed hubby off to work with his lunch, that I saw it was also time for me to get back to work. In a way, it made me feel, ever more so, that this is truly a job. And one that I enjoy enough that though my break from it was relaxing and heavenly, my return to it was not dreaded.
In fact, today sweeping, vacuuming, scrubbing, putting away, organizing, even cleaning the ice box, it all was part of the perception twist. We had returned from a lovely 11 day stint in our little beach house back to our home and I needed to get it to rights. I have some fun sewing projects lined up that I dreamed of and chatted about with friends. I truly feel re-charged to get back to my ‘work a day’ life. Though I even imagined while on our ‘staycation’ that I would come to see sweeping or dishes as a dreaded chore, but I found the lesson I have learned thus far to still be true. Make your list, treat it as a job, plan a ‘break’ from it and get to it. Nothing gets done without or just knuckling down and doing it.
That is probably the best lesson learned from my project and new life: No excuses and MORE work! The more you do daily as a part of your life the more you can accomplish and pile on and then you will be surprised with what you are doing in months. All the things you want to do, sew, paint that picture, learn to knit, skydive, learn a language, all of it will find a place, it will slip into the slots of your day as soon as you fill them with work and fun and ambition and leave entertainment and tv as a reward, but a small part of those days.
Our days our finite, that is a constant truth no matter what you believe, so don’t waste them.  As a good 50’s mother might say, “Don’t waste that food, there are starving people in the world” well, count your time off our your free time important and realize many people in the world do not have as much as we sometimes do, so don’t waste it. Clean the plate of your day with chores and projects and you will grow big and strong in confidence, skill, and a real sense of purpose and joy in your life. We need to lose the modern idea of the carrot before the horse always struggling and hoping ‘one day’ when that day is here right now, so get to filling it and enjoying it! And fun and accomplishment does not have to be expensive.
I think the frugality of the holiday really surprised me. We spent for the week (even with two breakfasts out and two dinners and a lunch) probably what we would have spent just on gas or 1/2 a plane ticket. There were no bags to check, no suitcases to pack, unpack and pack again, and it really made for a relaxing time. So, if any of you find your pennies a little short, don’t give up on the holiday or try to ‘reach beyond your means’ for a week, only to pay for it later in debt, try a stay at home vacation and see how much you really enjoy yourself and feel relaxed when you return to work. And, try a switch of perception in your day to find joy in it where you might sometimes find frustration or pain. Why shout alone in your car at the ‘idiot’ who cut you off, your only adding anger and shouting to your own life, they don’t care. Instead, imagine yourself in a foreign country and you don’t understand the ways of the road, smile and think of how you might carry that perception switch home with you. Now your home is a hotel, a hostel in a foreign country so cook up some new exotic food, put on some world music and watch the birds sing.
Maybe it is just the ‘50’s in me, but now I often find that I try to find the moral or resolution to the story of my day. I think checking off my accomplishments and simply moving any ‘failures’ to be the ‘lessons and to-doing of tomorrow’ such an emotionally healthy way to live. And, besides, if it gets to be too much one day, I’ll just use my Perception shift to take an hour trip to a tropical island.
Well, that is enough for me today. I will return tomorrow and shall try to continue my daily posting. Thank you for giving me the week off.
I think I will close with this fun home movie from 1950’s of Dennis here on the Cape. As we have no home movies of our trip this year, this can suffice for the fun. I am considering getting an old super 8 and starting to document our lives with it. It is not as easy as digital video but I fell compelled, so if any of you know anything of it or where to get a good camera and projector let me know.
Happy Homemaking.