Homestead Happenings

INTERLIBRARY LOAN

2012-01-31T10:47:00.000-08:00

I wanted to know more about "Fibber McGee and Molly," thefamous mid-century radio program starring the real-life married couple, Jim andMarian Jordan. Available history seemed sort of sketchy, so I decided to read acertain highly-recommended book.

Before Christmas, I shared my book wish list with Hallie. “Butdon’t pay any attention to that expensive book about Fibber McGee and Molly,” Itold her. “I’m going to ask the library to get it for me.”

She came back with: “They can get books for you? Cool!”

Here in our remote rural communities we have a wonderfullibrary system – Valnet. Lewiston, Clarkston, Moscow, and the smaller surroundingcommunities are all part of one system, so we can check out books in Orofino orNezperce, for example, and then return them at the Asotin County Library or anyother member library. I understand that this system is a prototype thatlibraries throughout the nation are watching, and our library administrationsays it works very well.

But I digress. Mid-January I visited the Asotin CountyLibrary in Clarkston. “You won’t have this book, I’m sure,” I told thelibrarian, “but I’d like to see if you can get it for me. It’s HeavenlyDays! The Story of Fibber McGee and Molly, by Charles Stumpf and Tom Price,published in 1987.”

First she checked the Valnet system, but my predictionwas correct -- she didn’t find it. Next she checked libraries at the Universityof Idaho, Washington State University, and Gonzaga. Then she broadened thesearch to Washington cities and found a copy at the Seattle Public Library. Shesaid that she didn’t anticipate any problems with the inter-library loan. Deliverytook about two weeks.

Electronic devices are now changing our library systems.In fact, hands-on workshops to demonstrate the new technology occurred lastweek at our libraries. The way we read is changing. It won’t happen overnight,though. Some books might never be digitized. Perhaps Heavenly Days! isan example. KW

KATHY WAITS FOR HOTTER WATER . . .

2012-01-30T09:00:00.000-08:00

My children had an “A-B-C” book that I thought was largelyuninspired except for the illustration at the letter H which read: “Hectorwaits for hotter water.” The illustration showed the animal character (Hector)testing icy water in an old-fashioned bathtub with his big toe. The first timethrough the book, this funny illustration was such a surprise that the kids andI laughed till we cried.

Time glides on and we take forgranted our blessings, amongthem instant – or nearly instant – hot water flowing through the faucet to oursinks and tubs. Grandma Ina never had the luxury, and while my world always hadhot running water, I do remember that it used to fail right regularly when Iwas a child. Mother would fill her big canning kettle with water and heat it onthe stove for our washing and bathing. Sometimes she poured hot water into thetub for my bath. Sometimes she declared that I would have only a “sponge bath.”Eventually the hot water tank was upgraded and problems rarely occurred.

I thought of these things Wednesday night as I prepared mysponge bath. We realized in the morning that we had no hot water. Mike alwayswarms his hands in hot tap water before putting on his gloves for the ride towork, so when the water refused to be more than tepid, we knew there was aproblem. We assumed the pilot light had blown out during a windstorm in thenight – and indeed that might have happened, but Mike was not successful inefforts to re-light. A service call would have to happen, so we moved a chestof drawers out of the closet where the hot water tank is located in order togive the man space to work. The serviceman came, lit the pilot light, andordered a replacement part. We’ve had to re-light the pilot several times, so I’mlooking forward to completion of this work – and getting the chest back intothe closet.

Mmmmm! Nothing like not having hot water to make youappreciate it. A nice hot shower is such luxury!

And speaking of bath time, I strongly suggested yesterdayafternoon that Nellie should have a bath, so Mike complied. That meant thecover of her nice big pillow had to be laundered, so Mike broughtone of her old pillows into the house for the duration. Last night Nellie wasrestless and finally disappeared. I found her in the laundry room, lying on herbig fluffy pillow. You can see the cover in the machine. It isn't just my imagination -- she truly prefers that big pillow. KW

FOILING THE SCAMMER

2012-01-27T21:24:00.000-08:00

“Hi Grandma. How are you?” I recognized the voice of ourteen-age grandson. It was the right time (6:00 p.m.), and the right occasion(Mike’s birthday). I jumped right in with his name and some small talk.

Then again, when I heard, “Hi Grandma, Howyadoin’?” when Ipicked up the phone at 10:00 a.m., I was immediately on guard. I gauged thevoice to be that of a young man.

“I’m fine,” I said, giving myself a nano-second to think. My mind immediately scanned through thegrandchildren and came up negative. The wrong age, the wrong time, the wrong voice.“Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s your oldest grandson,” he replied matter-of-factly with a smile in his voice.

“Doesn’t sound right,” I said. And with that, he hung up.(Do we still hang up? Or do we disconnect or power off or some other term?)

There’s a scam out there – we’ve known about it for years –that targets lonely elderly women. (I certainly don’t fit that profile, so I’mreally kinda insulted that these calls occasionally find me.) The callerpretends to be your grandchild and takes a chance that you’ll jump toconclusions and feed him the info he needs, such as his name. If the scammersucceeds in getting your ear, he eventually asks for money – or sometimes otherthings, but we won’t go into that.

I’m sure it’s desirable not to linger on the line with thesescammers, but I found myself thinking of things I wish I’d said.

“What! But we buried you yesterday. Ohhhhh --- I think I’mgoing to faint . . .” Thunk!

“I suppose you want more money. What did you do with the tenthousand I gave you last week?”

The first time I received one these scam calls was about tenyears ago. A female trying to sound like a child said, “Hello Grandma?”

“I’m not your grandma,” I replied.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“My grandchildren are very young,” I explained, “and youaren’t a child.”

She swore at me as she hung up, but I wasn’t too upset. Shehad failed.

But, you know – I have to reserve a little place forcaution. When Clint was in junior high, he had good news of some sort and Mikesuggested he call Grandma Bennie.

“Hello, Grandma,” he began.

“I’m not your grandma,” she said – and hung up. KW

100 BAG DESIGNS

2012-01-26T17:17:00.000-08:00

My sisters didn’t argue with me when I said I would liketo have Mother’s collection of vintage magazines, and I couldn’t believe theyweren’t interested. The seeds of my love for these old ideas were sown inchildhood, though I didn’t realize the depth of my love. I didn’t even realize that I wasbecoming a collector of works on vintage homemaking arts as I carried boxes of needlework and specialty magazines from the old family home.

I don’t think my mother considered herself a collector ofvintage magazines. She just bought what she liked – and kept it. But – she wasdefinitely a collector of vintage booklets. I am following in her footsteps and am indebted to her for her foresight. Shewould laugh if she knew.

As I moved into retirement, I found myself wanting moreof these vintage ideas. I began to selectively invest in an old book here, amagazine there.

A few years ago, I ordered a vintage pattern from anonline seller, and she included an unexpected bonus in the package – three issues of “Modern Priscilla.” It wasvery generous of her, I thought, and some months later she passed away. Icouldn’t help but wonder if she was deliberately reducing her stock by givingsome things away.

Anyway, “Modern Priscilla” was a homemaking and handworkmagazine published from 1887 until 1930. (The publisher lost out in the Great Depression.)As I glanced through the January 1926 issue last week, I noticed an ad for“Clark’s O.N.T. Bag Book – 100 Designs for 10 Cents” for those who crochet andembroider. Buy from your dealer, read the ad, or send ten cents to thelisted address and we’ll mail you a copy.

My curiosity immediately piqued, I searched for thispattern booklet online. Yes! I could have it for $10.00 plus shipping, and Ihad to have it! It came today, brightening a day when other plans had fallenthrough. I’m delighted with it.

Who knew they were making all these bags in 1925? Hereare some of the categories:

Attractive Bags for the Business Woman

When Puzzled What to Give, Give a Bag

Afternoon Dress-up Bags that have Particular Charm

Laundry Bags that are Different

The Popular Utility Shopping Bag

The Kiddies Need Pretty Bags, Too

Gift Bags, Practical Bags, Bags of Great Beauty

Unusual Evening and Theatre Bags

For Hiking, Travel and School

Stunning Bags for Varied Uses

Work Bags Both Serviceable and Decorative

Bags for Household Use

Practical Shopping Bags and Hand Bags

Of course, some of the bags relate to obsolete uses. Forexample, I don’t need a bag for my corsets, a hiking knapsack that won’t hold awater bottle, or a laundry bag for my soiled collars. But, when it comes rightdown to it, a bag’s a bag. The crocheted briefcase looks for all the world likea laptop case. Evening bags are always useful. Unique handbags are in vogueagain. And, of course, there’s the re-usable shopping bag.

I just might surprise everyone someday and make one ortwo of these bags. Until then – fascinating to look through this booklet. KW

PRESERVING THE WORK OF OUR HANDS

2012-01-24T14:50:00.000-08:00

On a previous post, Leah commented about her mother’sattitude toward her handwork. Leah subsequently sent me pictures which I’veposted here together with her original comments.

“I think my mother enjoyed telling others how long ittook her to do a certain piece (by hand). She did an huge owl embroidery forthe wall 30 years ago as my Christmas gift. This work took a very long time,she reminded me, and also bragged that the design was done with one threadthickness. It was excellent work and I know made with love.

“When I moved to L.A., 30 years ago this month in fact, I had a HUGEdisagreement with the moving company. They raised their original prices and Icouldn't pay the bill. All my worldly goods (furniture, family photos, china,etc) sat in their warehouse for many weeks. It looked like I might lose it all.Finally after contacting a consumer advocate with a national TV show, the badmoving co. settled with me for the original price. Nothing strikes fear into abig business more than nationwide publicity for fleecing poor defenselesswomen. What did my mother say? She was afraid I'd lose the owl embroidery thatshe's just spent months working on. Not the family photos, all my furniture,anything else. Just her owl embroidery.”

I can certainly relate because as my mother got older,she also became more possessive of her work and particular about how it wasused. She made each one of her children and grandchildren an afghan – except forHallie, the youngest. Mother failed before making Hallie’s afghan so she receivedone that Mother had made for herself. But when Mother visited in my home, shewould make comments about how the afghan she made me was treated. She didn’twant it to be used.

I began to think about that even before Mother left us. Thosethings that we use, we risk using up. They wear out or get broken or perhaps arelost in other ways. If we don’t use them, they have no meaning to us and are lostto us through dis-use. And those thingsthat we do for others through our pass-times – well, aren’t we motivated by ourlove of the activity as much as by the love of the recipient?

When I worked at the museum, we talked about preserving photos and documents in archival quality boxes, sleeves, etc. So, when I asked a local artist to frame Hallie's embroidery and requested an acid-free mat, she said, "It will last your lifetime and your daughter's. What more did you want?" Food for thought.

At a Christmas gathering last month, I was amused when the man next to me began to talk about all the stuff in storage since he moved -- stuff he doesn't miss. He mentioned in particular a box of afghans. "Can we get rid of those?" he asked his wife, to which she replied in the negative, recounting how they were made for her by special people. He went on to say that they keep their house at 70 year-round and he doesn't anticipate ever having a need for those afghans.

Well, I love afghans and I will keep making them, but it brings me up short when I visit consignment and thrift stores and see all those handmade afghans for sale. KW

STAYIN' IN

2012-01-22T11:39:00.000-08:00

Just as I began to wonder if I should plant some spinach, “Old Man Winter” arrived in force, covering the L-C Valley with 8 to 10 inches of snow on Wednesday (the 18th). Mike was disappointed to have to drive the car to the office, while Nellie and I have been mostly confined to the house and general neighborhood. Now that things have warmed up a bit, water stands or runs or makes mud and is again treacherous in the morning.

Fortunately we had that big influx of food as we closed the farmhouse for the winter. It would be a while before we’d starve, even if we couldn’t cook. Of course, Mike gets out everyday and so has wandered into the grocery store a time or two for produce. But today – today I am going out! I need a boost from Jo-Ann’s, and then I’ll shop Albertson’s for a few things. I’m just waiting for the day to warm up and bring more moderation. Mike says I can't leave until he's sure I won't go sailing off the driveway into the house below us.

I made use of the “in” time to tackle another unfinished project on my list – a white apron to which I’ve added time-consuming machine embroidery embellishment. The stitching on the bib required several hours on Friday, while the three scallops on the bottom took all day Saturday – with interruptions, of course. And it’s not perfect. I had some troubles. Embroidery designs interface to my sewing machine from my laptop, and unbeknownst to me, my computer cord was slightly dislodged, eventually causing the computer to shut down in order to charge. When I was able to bring the design up again, I somehow re-started with a mirror image with the result that one of the scallops is – well, different. Thank goodness for the symmetry of the design or hours of work would have been lost. At one point I also found myself referring to the wrong color change sheet which never bodes well. I had to re-stitch in order to save.

And I think that’s why I fail to finish some things I start. I keep thinking my skills will be better tomorrow. I have to remind myself that at this point it doesn’t matter anymore. I am the master of my own experience. Now is the time. (Etc., etc., etc.)

Last week I abandoned a doll dress I was making from a vintage pattern. I realized it would never be right, and I was happy enough to let it go and cross it off the list. That’s still a decision -- and progress -- in my book.

I'm taking a "wait and see" attitude toward this next week. It looks like daytime highs will reach the 40s, but it could rain. It could even snow again. Predictions for the Camas Prairie (farmhouse) are at 1 to 3 inches tonight. Spring will still come -- it happens every year -- so back to the seed catalog. KW

COLD SNOW -- WARM COOKIES

2012-01-18T11:10:00.000-08:00

WINTER

Even the sunshine of our warm Pacific Coast must give way occasionally to leaden skies and chill dampness. And for this season, Man,too, must prepare. His dwelling-place must hold warmth and cheer.

Easier Housekeeping, Pacific Coast Gas Association, 1931

We in the Northwest have been bracing for a snowstorm. In the Lewis-Clark Valley, it began snowing in earnest during the night and we awoke to about four inches of the fluffy stuff. Mike had to go to work. I’m grateful to be staying at home.

Now – to share my new cookie recipe. I often eat raisin bran for breakfast, but once I’ve eaten down to the bottom of the box where the bran flakes are mostly crumbs, I no longer enjoy the experience. The crumbs are immediately soggy in milk, and the texture just doesn’t inspire me. Sometimes there can be quite a lot of crumbly product in the bottom of the box, so I began to save it with the notion of making “raisin bran cookies.” Additionally, Mike had mentioned that vegetable oil is better for us than either butter or margarine, so I decided to make that substitution. Online research indicated a substitution of 7/8 cup oil and ½ teaspoon salt for one cup margarine.

KW’S RAISIN BRAN COOKIES

½ cup applesauce

½ cup cooking oil (scant)

½ cup egg substitute

½ cup white sugar

¾ cup brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla

2 ¼ cups flour

1 tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

2-3 cups crumbled raisin bran cereal

½ cup raisins

½ cup nuts

1 cup cinnamon baking chips

Blend applesauce, oil, and egg subs. Add sugars and vanilla and blend well. Mix flour, soda, and salt and add to sugar mixture. Stir in remaining ingredients. I baked them for 8 minutes at 350 on parchment-lined baking sheets. Yield: about 4 dozen cookies.

I simply made substitutions to a standard cookie recipe. Mike and I both thought the cookies were delicious.

What I know about basic cooking I learned from my mother. She taught the importance of exact measurement and stressed that any deviation can affect the result. She kept a straightedge in her kitchen to smooth the extra flour or sugar off the cup, demonstrating that smoothing with curved spoon handles or knives will affect the measurement. She was insistent that I follow the exact procedures she taught. However, after years of baking for my family, I find I’m a little lax with exact measurement and have no problems with that. KW

MAKING CANDLES

2012-01-16T19:40:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we untrimmed the tree. I sure hated to see it go and I took the candle stubs and melted them in a pan, then I took a string and dipped it in the wax, so I made a candle. It sure was bumpy but it worked.

Shirley Jean (Ina’s granddaughter), January 1937

Shirley Jean would have been eleven when she and her parents spent this Christmas of 1936 at the farm with Ina and Julian. The tree was lit by small white candles in holders that were clipped to the branches. Of an evening, they would light the tree for a few minutes, sit together to admire it, then blow out the candles. So, Shirley Jean is saying that she made a new candle by melting the stubs of the candles that adorned the tree.

After Christmas, we all put everything away and it’s business as usual. While the holiday / celebration mode just can’t go on forever, I like to think that Christmas as an event leaves me better than it found me – that some bit of it lingers to brighten my heart during the dark days of January. Candles are a good example.

This year, burning candles is on my “to do” list. I have a burgeoning collection of candles – from the partially burned to brand new. This year I have resolved to burn up at least the partially used. It’s not fun to be a saver of used candles, but I was raised in a household that did just that.

This fading photo was taken on Christmas Eve in 1957 or so. It shows my dad lighting the candles on the buffet table – candles he made. I was just a little girl, but perhaps Daddy meant to be sharing the experience with me because I knew what was happening with every step. I remember saving waxed milk and cream cartons for the molds. On candle-making day, Daddy heated wax in an old pan and poured it into the molds. The candles were red and green – coloring provided by old color crayons melted in the wax. The coloring was really not intense enough. Today we’d think nothing of buying a couple of boxes of crayons in primary colors just for this project, but a new box of crayons was a big deal in my ‘50’s world. It seems like ice chips in the hot wax left irregularly-shaped pockets in the candle. I remember Daddy tearing the waxed cardboard off the hardened wax. As a finishing touch, he whipped hot wax until it was frothy and poured it over the candles.

When Christmas was over, we wrapped the candles in tissue paper and stored them with the Christmas decorations. Every year we burned them just a little. And then they looked old and we didn’t get them out any more, but we still had them wrapped in tissue paper for years. Maybe not all families save such things, but mine did.

Once I suggested to Mother that we should make candles again. “It was a big mess!” she said, and I knew I was talking to the clean-up person. I could just see the little specks of wax, frustratingly adhered to stove top, counter, windows, maybe even curtains. And that doesn't even count the cooking utensils. Now I knew why we had never done that fun project again. My suggestion had fallen on deaf ears. That was that.

Mother loved candles, though. She burned them sometimes, and she hoarded quite a number of them. I think she kept a certain number on hand in case of emergency – because, you know, the electricity used to go out with some regularity, and sometimes it was not immediately restored. Candles, matches, and flashlights were necessities. KW

TO THE FARM AND BACK

2012-01-13T16:54:00.000-08:00

Mike and Ken had planned to hunt on Thursday (Jan. 12), but Ken decided he didn’t have time to go. His tv set, purchased in 1989, finally died, so he had to take care of the business of getting a new one – and stepping up to the whole HD/digital thing.

Anyway, I knew that Mike had arranged to be out of the office during the afternoon and that he would feel "all dressed up with no place to go." Figuring he would want to substitute another outing, I suggested we make that quick trip to the farm we’d been discussing. That would get a large basket of clean laundry and several boxes out of this small house and back where they belonged, plus we could add the table scraps to the composter and pick up one or two needed items.

We arrived at the farm about 2:00. The traps were free of mice. Mike practiced with his new pistol while I put the clothes away. I picked up a few vintage magazines for inspiration and checked the pantry for food items I could use up during these winter months. I threw cereal, cake mixes, and marshmallows into the basket. And I found a bag of chips I would have overlooked again had I not crouched down to check the lower shelves. We also brought back a second “wind trainer” for my use. (More on that later.)

We were on the road again by 3:00. It was cold in the farmhouse, but I wore my new microfiber long johns (wonderful!) and I was fine as long as I didn’t take my gloves off.

Another day gone without much progress made on my “to do” list, but taking care of these needful things was an accomplishment. In the evening I finished crocheting the granny squares for the little doll afghan. KW

FIRST TO FIND

2012-01-11T16:43:00.000-08:00

In our local Geocaching community there are three or four players who pride themselves on getting FTF’s (first-to-finds). One even has a specialty license plate that reads “FTF”. This is a fierce competition. Members can opt to have all new geocaches electronically sent to their cell phones as soon as they are published. It’s nothing for these competitors to race to a newly published cache at midnight. I like to score FTF’s too, but as geocaching is only one of my several obsessions I don’t participate in the phone notification races. The FTF opportunities that appeal to me are the caches in more remote areas that require some planning and physical effort. I have a better chance on these.

There is a weekly publication emailed to all members by the geocaching publication, Groundspeak, that lists all new geocaches. The last one of the year listed one up Asotin Creek in the Blue Mountains. No one had logged this one but some of the competitors had already posted notes. One was a real challenge which read something to the effect –“I was in Spokane when this cache was posted but be advised the clock is ticking”.

Well, I saw the clock was still ticking on January 2^nd so I loaded up Nellie and a mountain bike in the truck and headed out. I knew from one of the posts that the road that would take us to the vicinity of the cache had been closed for the winter. On the way out before reaching the closed gate across the road we stopped and picked up a cache that we had not attempted. I parked at the gate, unloaded the mountain bike, put on a backpack and biked up to a parking lot not too far up the road. From there we had a choice of taking a trail bordering the creek on one side of the ridge or taking the road up the other side. We took the trail because there was another cache up the trail a little ways that I didn’t have and I would rather have Nellie running along the trail than on the gravel road. I had biked up the trail in the past after caches in previous years but always in the summer. The trail steadily climbs and the ground was mostly frozen but it wasn’t particularly strenuous.

The first cache was no more than a half mile up the trail and required a short climb up the hill. It was hidden in a little recess at the base of a cliff.

When I got as close as I could to the cache from the trail I had traveled a little less than 3 ½ miles. I left my bike there and headed up the hill. To my surprise the cache was not very far up the mountain and I was there in less than 15 minutes. I was somewhat taken aback to discover that the logbook had several old entries in it including one of my own. It turns out that this was a cache that had been moved from another location.

I had expected this cache to be much more difficult so it was a little of a let down. However, I’ve been working on a cache of my own called “No Hill for a Climber” which will be a multi-cache involving several stages. I had brought one of the containers with me so we started up the mountain to find a place for it. I soon saw a prominent rock formation that looked like a good spot. However, as I got closer it looked more and more familiar to me. Sure enough, when I got there I found a cache hidden there that I had found several years back. Well, the only thing to do was to head on up to the top of the mountain which we did. At the top we found a large mesa about 100 yards long by 25 yards wide. It was at an elevation of about 3,425 feet which was about 1,000 feet above the trail. I found a good hiding place in some rocks on the southwest end of the mesa.

I decided to take a different route down which turned out to be a mistake. We got into a series of benches separated by cliffs. Some of them I could have climbed down but I didn’t want to chance Nellie trying it because she thinks she’s a mountain goat. After a lot of hiking on steep side hills we eventually found several places to negotiate the series of cliffs and get back to the trail.

After a pause for some lunch we headed back down the trail. It should have been a great ride because it was all down hill. Unfortunately, it had warmed up enough to change the hard ground to mud. By the time we got back to the truck the bike as well as Nellie and I were covered with mud.

Now the funny part. Parked at the gate was the truck with the FTF license plate. I left a note on his windshield saying, ”Well, you said the clock was ticking”. I found out later that after seeing my truck (which he knew) he had gone up the road to get another cache he didn’t have before looping back and settling for 2^nd to find on the other one. That made my day. [The last two pictures are the view from the mesa and the location of my cache] M/W

WOUND REPORT

2012-01-11T08:57:00.000-08:00

Leah requested an update on Nellie's wound.

Nellie was out hunting with Mike and Ken mid-November when she showed up with a wound on her left foreleg. Neither Mike nor Ken saw what happened. Mike trimmed the torn skin and provided no other treatment except to protect the open wound with a bandage when she hunted.

I say we provided no other treatment because we have been this route three times, and we now act according to advice given on the first occasion. The vet told us that stitching the wound is not the best option. It requires surgery (hard on the dog) with the possibility of re-tearing, etc. Plus, it's difficult then to keep the dog from licking the wound, which is actually the best thing. The vet said to trim the skin and then the dog's attention to the wound -- licking and saliva -- were all that was necessary to cleanse and eventually heal the wound. Besides that, the vet added, there would be minimal scarring, which would not be the case with surgical intervention. We were skeptical, especially when a week later Nellie still had a gaping wound, so Mike called the vet's office again and was told he just had to be patient -- that eventually the wound would close. And that's what happened.

So now when Nellie sustains such a wound, Mike trims the skin and lets her tend to the wound herself. It takes three weeks to a month but then the wound closes without a visible scar unless you really look for it. (In the photo to the left, you can just see a remaining red spot at her elbow.) In a world that hastens to intervene, it seems like an amazing thing.

Nellie is good to go again now.

It was cold here this morning -- 19, but the cold is the best thing for us at this time of year. Now if we just had some precipitation. It's really dry. KW

NELLIE ON A DIET

2012-01-09T16:35:00.000-08:00

When hunting season starts, Mike switches Nellie from her bowl to a perpetual feeder so that she can eat as much as she needs. This works well until the season slows down. And every year the need to switch back to more controlled feedings catches us off guard. Before we know it, Nellie begins to get a little roly-poly. And then it’s tough for a few days as we switch back to the regular feeding schedule.

“I put a little food in Nellie’s dish,” said Mike as he left for work. “I’ll feed her again when I get home.” I took that to mean that I shouldn’t slip her any extra food.

During the noon hour, Nellie ate what little chow Mike had left for her. After our walk at 2:30, she checked the bowl again and noted its emptiness. She climbed in my lap, resting her head on my chest so that she could gaze into my eyes. I call that move the “German Shorthair mind meld.” I shooed her off so that I could get to work.

Her next tactic was to lie in my way in the middle of the kitchen. When that didn’t work, she asked to go outside. Nellie’s evening feeding often occurs after an outing, so if things are not to her liking when we return from the walk, she prompts me by going out and coming back in. I let her out and she was back in five minutes.

“You just have to wait for your supper,” I explained to her. “I know you’re hungry, but Mike said he would feed you when he gets home.”

She evidently got something out of those words because she plopped down on her pillow with one of her snort / sighs.

Mike and Nellie are on the same wave length when they hunt, but Mike is oblivious to Nellie’s messaging at the house. If she has something to say, she talks to me. KW

The Vintage Housekeeper

"The building of a menu should not have for its only consideration the mere suggesting of something to eat. This is the end, the result; other factors are important as a foundation. The tastes of the members of the family, their requirements in respect to age and occupation, and how these can best be satisfied from the household allowance and the market -- these should be the study of the housekeeper -- that poor housekeeper, who sometimes so sadly needs someone to study her. She who is the unwilling and unhappy target of three-fourths of what is written on the subject of cooking."

Helen Louise Johnson, The Enterprising Housekeeper, 1906 (IRD collection)

KEEP HOUSE CLEAN VS. HOUSE CLEANING

2012-01-07T09:39:00.000-08:00

“The modern housewife keeps her house clean rather than house cleans[,] giving each room a rather thorough cleaning as often as may be necessary. For this cleaning the following program is suggested:

1. Dust bric-a-brac and clean metals. Place them all together and cover them up

2. Dust wood furniture and vacuum-clean overstuffed furniture. Remove the smaller pieces to another room if possible. Cover those which remain. In bedroom take off bedding and thoroughly clean spring and mattress, make up again and cover

3. Clean rugs with a vacuum cleaner and roll them up

4. Remove portieres and draperies and clean them on a flat surface with a vacuum cleaner

5. Dust ceiling and walls

6. Dust wood trim, doors, and surbase

7. Clean windows and mirrors

8. Dust pictures

9. Dust lighting fixtures, wash globes

10. Clean and polish floor

11. Replace everything”

-- from the Rumford Book on Home Management, c. 1920

I don’t know. Any way you look at keeping the house clean, it sounds like house cleaning to me. The biggest challenges in the above program would be removal and re-hanging of the drapes and rolling up the carpets, which most surely means lifting or moving some furniture. Just how often is “as often as may be necessary?” I would perform those heavy chores no oftener than quarterly, while the rest I would divide between monthly and weekly. And just how am I going to fit this into my weekly schedule, published in the previous post.

But, when I think of housecleaning, I tend to think of cleaning the whole house, or even a whole room, at one time, instead of dividing the work into doable tasks. Perhaps I should alter my imaginary cleaning regimen so that I deep clean one room each week (see Thursday), and if I did that, eventually my house would be maintained in a state of cleanliness. That’s probably the point.

My mother told me that when she was growing up – and that would be the ‘20s – she was to clean the living room weekly on Saturday. She said she moved the furniture out from the wall and vacuumed under it routinely. (This may have been Grandma’s expectation, but Mother didn’t say so.) One day a workman came to the house for some purpose and the living room furniture was moved. The workman complimented my grandmother, saying that he had never seen such a clean home. Grandma beamed at the compliment but didn’t mention that Mother had done the work. Mother saw this as a slight and vowed to herself that she would always give credit where credit was due. Mother was most generous in this regard.

[The picture is of my maternal grandparents’ home in Orofino, Idaho, dated August 28, 1921. Grandmother Nina Portfors (35) stands in the background. The children are Francis (13) and Dorothy (11). Whatever the scenario, it seems to be a typical day. Grandma appears to be wearing an apron and dust cap. About five years prior to this picture, my grandfather opened a Ford garage – the right place at the right time – which means this was a good era for the family. This house continued to be the Portfors family home until it was sold about 1965. Note the hill to right of center. Today you can see the Gilbert Grade there, leading to the homestead of my paternal grandparents.] KW

"for the woman who knows what she wants to know"

2012-01-05T19:15:00.000-08:00

Everywhere I look, I’m being pressed to organize and clean my house. From sales flyers to magazines to online sites, organizing is the order of the day. And I love that. I love to make lists and card files. When I’m finished and it’s all neatly in order, I push it aside and forget about it.

Maybe it’s not an unusual failing. An old “Father Knows Best” radio program treated the same subject. Margaret, the mother, is hard at work with some very strenuous spring housecleaning activities. She’s climbing ladders, pushing heavy pieces of furniture out from the wall, etc., with the help of daughter Betty. When a weary Margaret suggests she could really use some help with the heavy work, Jim (Father) says, “Oh no, I’ll tackle the yard.” (In radio days, father was quite the jerk.) Then he begins to note what needs to be done and decides the work properly begins with an orderly list. He then disappears to the den, taking son Bud with him, expounding on how nothing can be done until proper organization has occurred. Of course, the tasks at hand are never addressed anywhere except on paper. I can relate.

I love to read household management tips from any era but especially from vintage women’s magazines, housekeeping manuals, cookbooks, etc. In older works, I love the concept of home and womanhood. Being a homemaker was a recognized vocation, and ideas were available to help with this work.

The following are extracts from the Rumford Book on Home Management, compiled by Hannah Wing for the Department of Home Economics of The Rumford Company. No publication date appears – the ‘20s, I think. As the photos of the cover show, it's not an attractive little book, and my copy shows use, which makes it all the more special.

“This book has been planned by the makers of Rumford Baking Powder to give busy housekeepers and young home makers the most helpful of the recent knowledge of modern home economics as applied to the general management of the home. …. The book is a ready reference book not a discussion paper. It is planned for the woman who knows what she wants to know.” [Don’t you just love that -- “for the woman who knows what she wants to know.”]

“A POSSIBLE PROGRAM OF WORK

A suggested program for the special work which must be fitted into each day while still carrying on the routine of the regular daily work. The program should always include a daily rest period and at least one afternoon away from home.

Monday: Mend, count and prepare laundry. Tidy house. Wash ‘fine pieces’

Tuesday: Washing. Mop kitchen and laundry floors. Basement stairs and back porch

Wednesday: Ironing

Thursday: Clean bed rooms

Friday: Clean living room, clean bath room and do special occasional cleaning

Saturday: Clean kitchen, ice box. Week-end marketing, and extra cooking”

Sounds like a plan!

From what I could discern through online research, Rumford Baking Powder is still produced by Clabber Girl. I don’t recall seeing the Rumford brand, but I know Clabber Girl. KW

Report of “finishes”:

SS retirement benefit online application

Organizational emblems returned

VINTAGE COOK WARE

2012-01-03T17:11:00.000-08:00

Back in the day, when I was a newlywed, a few pieces of Corning bake ware came my way. At that time, Corning was fond of putting its famous “cornflower” design on its otherwise plain white cookware, and I was never a fan of that silly little flower. I guess Mike’s ex-wife wasn’t a fan either because I found several pieces in his cupboard when I took over the kitchen. And we gained several others as wedding gifts.

My upbringing taught that I should use what I have, respecting the giver’s gift, and not complain or replace. Mother’s kitchen was a hodge-podge of this and that, and I suspect this was true of many kitchens of the mid-century era. Mother valued each piece for its specific purpose and how she came to own it. She added new bake ware seldom and when she did, she didn’t get rid of the old. She also didn’t think in terms of matching pieces. It’s hard for me to realize that I might actually have a kitchen of wonderful things that I love instead of mismatched pieces.

To this day I still use some “cornflower” casserole dishes. I also regularly use avocado green bowls from the same era. You know what they say – the longer you keep it, the harder it is to get rid of it. Sometimes when I examine my mostly valueless stuff, I hear Mike or Frank of American Pickers asking, “Is that something you could part with, Kathy?” To add to my dilemma, I know if I take my “cornflower” pieces to the rummage sale, they will be purchased immediately, along with old Tupperware.

A month or so ago, Chris posted a picture of her pretty loaves of bread in Corning bread pans. Those sturdy pans caught my eye because mine are – well, not so nice. I confess that the last ones I bought came from the dollar store. Chris and I spoke briefly about the cornflower design. I think she said she had gotten rid of much of her “cornflower” but kept these nice bread pans. To me, the design is not so distasteful on pans that aren’t apt to be set on the table.

Until I went to make some pre-holiday “Chex Mix” at the farmhouse, I had forgotten all about this very nice Corning roasting pan, similar in design to Chris’ bread pans. This pan, one of the rare late additions my mother made to her kitchen collection, is the perfect size for so many uses, from Chex mix to roasting a turkey. Mother gave it to me because I agreed to roast the Thanksgiving turkey when she moved from the family home.

Looking at today’s Corning Ware, I guess Corning got the message – probably years ago -- because the casseroles and pans are still available but now without the design and called “French White.” I like it. Perhaps I’ll find my way to matching cook ware yet. KW

VINTAGE HOME MANAGEMENT

We may live without poetry, music and art,

We may live without conscience and live without heart,

We may live without friends, we may live without books,

But civilized man cannot live without cooks.

From The Enterprising Housekeeper, 1906

2012: LET'S GET ON WITH IT

2012-01-02T17:58:00.000-08:00

I know. People who work are thrilled to have a long weekend – any long weekend -- but suddenly today I’m a little tired of the vacation drill. It feels like the New Year’s holiday started Friday and is still going on today.

To me, the New Year means organizing for the year ahead – determining direction and stirring my heart and mind to action. To that end my “Marjolein Bastin 2012 Nature’s Journal Engagement Planner” has been pressed into service. This year’s focus: “Finishes.” As I mentally review my unfinished works, I add them to the list on a page in this journal. On the opposite page, I resolve to note finishes.

I don’t need to share here what I have outlined in my engagement planner. I know there’s some value in telling one’s goals, but I tend to keep mine to myself. I’m responsible to myself for the accomplishment of my work. I’d rather say what I did than what I’m going to do. Sometimes what seems important as I set my goals is not so important in the bigger picture of life.

That said, I have resolved to finish a number of projects before I start more unfinished projects. I tend to start things that I don’t finish, and it’s time to clean up – or clear out – some of these things. Exceptions are machine embroidery and doll clothes. These constitute simpler, ongoing projects that provide quick finishes and refreshment. I need that.

And I’m surely glad I have that loophole because this morning Chris wrote to point out a free granny afghan pattern for American Girl dolls at Libertyjane.com. I downloaded it and then I left Mike with football while I took myself to Jo-Ann to buy yarn. I’m having a hard time getting my gauge tight enough, though. Little dolls need small squares, not big squares. I’m thinking the square could be three rounds instead of four. Hmmmm.

And then Mike and I took Nellie and went out to pick up a few geocaches. We found three, two that have been elusive on the levee. I took pictures while Mike completed the "paperwork."

And then Clint called this evening to say he made it back home but not without incident. As he was driving back to Gooding this morning, he slowed to turn into a rest stop when the front left wheel came off his pick-up. Fortunately there was no oncoming traffic and no one was hurt. He was able to retrieve the wheel, which was ruined, and managed to mount his spare, which wasn’t easy and took an hour. We’re grateful tonight that he is home. KW

ONCE UPON A NEW YEAR: The Great-Grandfather in the Honey Tree Debacle

2012-01-01T09:16:00.000-08:00

New Year’s Day in the home of my childhood was a work day. Mother always took the decorations off the tree and carefully re-packed them on New Year’s Day – no exceptions. Daddy might not start removing the outdoor decorations, but New Year’s Eve was generally the last night that exterior lights were turned on.

It’s amazing what you remember when you’re just thinking about certain events. I was thinking about helping Mother undecorate the tree, the living room a mess of boxes, tissue paper, and Christmassy stuff, when I remembered about Great-Grandfather in the Honey Tree, a charming children’s book written by Sam and Zoa Swayne of Orofino and published in 1949. As I recall, the story was based on an incident of Swayne family lore, and Zoa, an artist, had illustrated it. In an age when it seemed children’s literature wasn’t innovative, the book enjoyed some national renown, and since the authors were prominent Orofino residents, the book was promoted as special in baby-boomer classrooms at Orofino Elementary. I think I was in the third grade when I borrowed the book from the classroom library prior to Christmas vacation. (In our school, there was no common library. Each classroom had a couple of shelves devoted to age-appropriate books.) In the hubbub of Christmas, I forgot all about the book.

One day in January, my teacher called me to her desk. Did I remember checking out Great-Grandfather in the Honey Tree, she asked. Hmmm – no, not really, I admitted. Well, she said, the card indicated I had checked it out and it was overdue. She was firm in her conviction that I had been the last student to borrow the book. Please check at home for it and return it.

So, at home I mentioned the missing book to Mother. Yes, she had a vague recollection of it. It had been on the coffee table, she thought. We searched the house thoroughly. My mother and my teacher sent messages to one another through me for several days. I remember the look of concern on my teacher’s face. Clearly she wasn’t amused. I admit that I was a dreamer, but my mother was usually on top of things.

My teacher remaining insistent that I had the book, Mother finally said, “Kathy, I just can’t imagine where it could be unless somehow we put it away with the Christmas ornaments.” Even to my child mind, that didn’t seem likely. How could we put a book in an ornament box? How could we not notice? I remember feeling momentarily dashed because, after all, the ornaments had been put away for the next eleven months, and my teacher was applying some pressure about that book. I figured it was too much trouble to get into those boxes again until next Christmas. Oh no, Mother reassured me, she would just have to pull the boxes out and check in them for the book. And sure enough! There it was. In the process of gathering up and putting away sundry holiday items, Great-Grandfather in the Honey Tree had been stashed right in the top of one of the ornament boxes.

To this day, I’m not sure how we managed to put that book in an ornament box, but I was surely relieved when Mother found it. And so was she. And my teacher's face broke into a smile when I returned the book to school.

If you’re interested in Great-Grandfather in the Honey Tree, copies are available for purchase online. The best price I found was through the ClearwaterHistorical Museum in Orofino. I think you can even read the book online by searching the title. KW

[The card above is from Vance's collection, evidently provided to students by the school. The picture of the Orofino house was taken by brother Chuck in 1984. Unfortunately, the telephone pole is in the way of a good view, but it's still typical of how Orofino looked in winter. And the book image is from the Clearwater Historical Society site.]

NEW YEAR'S EVE 2011

2011-12-31T15:58:00.000-08:00

DRINK UP!

2011-12-30T13:01:00.000-08:00

I have just finished consolidating food stuff from the farmhouse with food here in town. Our pantry, refrigerator and chest freezer are bursting at the seams. I also have a box of condiments in the garage where it should be cool enough to store them until spring. Needless to say, with the exception of dairy and produce, we aren’t going to need to buy a lot of food for a few weeks (if not months).

But I just have to get out of the house and into town at least once a week because of “cabin fever,” so I headed into Clarkston yesterday to see if I could find post-Christmas bargains. I wasn’t disappointed: an ornament storage box here, a pair of pajamas on clearance there, a bag of chocolates here, next year’s Christmas cards there, some fresh bananas and milk – and holiday teas.

I had seen the Celestial Seasonings holiday teas at Albertsons last week as part of a special display of holiday items. Well, you know how it is – holiday teas appear only during the holiday season, and I like drinking them from the first of October through St. Patrick’s Day. So, when I see them, I buy a few boxes. I have managed to create quite a stockpile because I’m afraid I won’t find them when I want them.

Now, I need more of these teas like I need a hole in the head, but finding myself at Albertsons and thinking the tea probably hadn’t sold out, I asked myself where store management could possibly have stashed it. “At the front of the store,” I thought to myself, and sure enough, there was a cartload of it on sale for a dollar a box. I simply couldn’t resist – and five boxes went into my cart.

The picture above is my “working stash” of tea. The picture to the right is overflow. I’m running out of places to hoard – er, store -- my stash of tea, but I found a little space on the top shelf of the pantry. Tough as it is, I’m afraid to say what might happen if I see the holiday teas at $.50 a box! But if the store has to sell it at a loss, will the product return next year? Scary thought! KW

A RETURN TO TOYLAND

2011-12-29T09:07:00.000-08:00

Toyland, Toyland, Little girl and boy land,

While you dwell within it,

You are ever happy then.

Childhood’s joyland,

Mystic, merry Toyland!

Once you pass its borders,

You can ne’er return again.

-- Babes in Toyland, 1903

Certainly I believe it’s true that Toyland is not the same once we grow up. The wonder, the delight, the joy in a new toy just isn’t the same from an adult perspective. The imagination just doesn’t seem to spark the same way as it does for a child. Even so, I think we adults can visit Toyland, and maybe we should. This is my way of announcing my Christmas gift – “American Girl Molly.”

In 2010 I bought a used and naked American Girl doll, Kit Kittredge, the Depression-Era historical doll. Family members who knew that I was bidding on dolls suggested that I should have a new doll and exactly what I wanted. I didn’t mind that the doll was gently loved and naked. I wanted a doll that would be a model for my sewing creations and didn’t care about the collector value because I think that’s mostly a farce anyway. But I did mind that the seller apparently sold the doll before her daughter was ready. When the seller revealed this, I no longer wanted the doll and offered to relinquish the sale, but to the mother / seller, honoring the sale was more important than her daughter’s feelings. In the end, I didn’t feel good about the purchase.

So, when Mike suggested that he would like to give me a brand new American Girl doll for Christmas, I took him up on it and suggested “Molly,” the 1940’s historical doll. And that’s what I found under the tree – a brand new doll from the American Girl store. Of course, I’m delighted with her but not as a little girl would be. To me, she represents participation in a popular doll fad and a reminder of childhood delights.

One thing I noticed immediately about my new doll – no “new doll smell.” Back in my day, a brand new doll had an aroma just as new cars have “new car smell.” I suppose it was the fresh plastic. Eventually the new smell would wear off, as it were, and the doll was no longer new. Well, this Molly doesn’t have that aroma. Perhaps she’s already lost the aroma by sitting on a shelf someplace. Perhaps she never had it. But she’s clean and she’s mine.

P.S. The American Girl Company provides a contrived history for its historical dolls. I disagree with some of that, but evidently it works for them. I re-named my Depression-era doll, "Shirley Anne, American Farm Girl." Will I rename Molly? I'm not sure. KW

CHRISTMAS IN REVIEW 2011

2011-12-28T14:10:00.000-08:00

Christmas future is far away,

Christmas past is past.

Christmas present is here today

Bringing joy that will last.

(Intro to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”)

Nick and Hallie arrived very late Thursday night (22^nd), and we all retired to our beds soon thereafter.

Friday (23rd) was a day of relaxation. We visited the neighbors, carrying jellies, watched a herd of mule deer slowly eat their way over the hill to the south, played table games. I bought a new game this year -- "Fact or Crap." It was mentioned in a Lewiston Tribune review of games and I bought it on a whim. We gave it a try, and the four of us say it will never replace dominoes or Scrabble. And now we have a game we don't like. Pretty much a waste of money. In the kitchen, I made a batch of oatmeal cookies and we had chicken and biscuits for dinner with a small cherry pie for dessert.

The days blur when everyday seems like a holiday. It's hard to remember what happened when and to some extent it doesn't matter. Christmas Eve Hallie went for a run in the morning while Nellie and I followed at a slower pace. I took the above picture of the house and imagined that Ina was bustling around in there, getting ready for a Christmas Eve gathering of friends and family. The gift exchange at my paents' home was Christmas Eve, but now we open stockings and then gifts on Christmas morning. I did prepare a turkey dinner Christmas Eve night, and we had our traditional "Mystery Pecan Pie." Oh! And I made peanut brittle, which began to scorch before I removed it from the heat. Disappointing! However, the family ate it and seemed to enjoy it and when I asked Mike if I should make more, the answer was a resounding, "No! I can't stay out of it!" I will make more, though, perhaps in a week or two.

"Santa" was so tired Christmas Eve night that packing the stockings was deferred until morning. It was a pleasant, quiet time of watching "A Christmas Story" while preparing playing with the stocking goodies. Nick's brand new stocking looked right at home with our old ones. Mike made waffles for breakfast and we tried various toppings -- real maple syrup, pumpkin butter, and jellies. Afterwards we spent a quiet hour with our gifts.

In the afternoon, Hallie and Nick (but especially Hallie) spent several hours pruning back the canes of the old wild rose bramble bush in the yard. It's sadly overgrown -- so overgrown that the blooms are small and insignificant. Besides that, it's an eyesore, I think, taking up more and more of the yard. The thorny canes were carried by wheelbarrow to a "burn pit" beyond the pond, and Christmas Night we had a bonfire. It was cold -- and a strong wind made it seem colder, but the side to the fire was warm.

Monday (26th) was a quiet day, a legal holiday though that didn't affect our day. It started with calls from son Murray and an old friend of Mike's. Perhaps we felt a bit wistful as Christmas 2011 drew to a close. The memorable event was Hallie's discovery an old dump under the brush on June's place. We brought three jars back to the house and she cleaned them. The oldest was obviously old, I thought, and said "Mellins Food, Boston," on it. Unfortunately it was badly cracked. Of the other two, one was an old canning jar without markings and the other said "Duraglas 1986." We plan to explore that site a bit more in warmer weather -- perhaps clean it up.

Tuesday (27th) was a work day for us. I took the tree down and then moved on to other packing, most notably emptying the refrigerator. Nick and Hallie said good-bye late in the morning. Then Mike and I continued finished our work to winterize and pack the pick-up. At the town house, I spent the afternoon consolidating the food and storing it wherever appropriate. KW

Friday I took the fir boughs from over the windows and doors, then I used sprays of holly across the curtains and it is so much prettier, so next Xmas I’ll open your box early and decorate with holly instead of fir. Already planning for Xmas you see. Ina Dobson, 1937

SEASONS GREETINGS

2011-12-25T13:07:00.000-08:00

HOLIDAY MENTAL HEALTH

2011-12-22T17:43:00.000-08:00

Well, we had agreat Christmas, and it helps to pass the winter.
Ina Dobson,January 1, 1933

Oneyear when I was in high school (nineteen-sixty-something), Mother stayed up allnight as December 23 became Christmas Eve so that she could meet her preparedness goals. I had no idea we were so far behind whenshe told me she would not be going to bed that night, so I volunteered to stayup and help her. While she worked in the kitchen, I wrapped packages. It wasprobably about 4:00 a.m. when we crept up to bed. After that Christmas, I vowedI had pulled my last Christmas “all-nighter.” In retrospect, I don’t know whatshe was doing, and that’s the point. Whatever it was we could have done withoutit. (And I will add here that my extended family is comprised of helpfulpeople, none of whom wanted Mother to be stressed. The demand to meet a certainstandard was totally within her own thinking.)

Butyou know, I mentioned to my octogenarian friends that my mother wouldoccasionally work into the wee hours in order to finish something that wasimportant to her, and these two ladies, a generation ahead of me, both said thatthey had done that and they agreed that what they accomplished by so doing hadbeen meaningful and fulfilling.

Asrewarding as it may be to some, I cope differently. I remember that both Motherand I were often sick after Christmas, symptomatic of too much stress, too muchwork. And I also remember that afterChristmas Mother struggled with post-holiday blues and disappointment. Nothingis more important to me than coming through the holidays without depression. Itell myself that no one wants me to have a meltdown.

Here’smy plan for a successful holiday season:

1. Start early and be realistic about what canbe accomplished. And of course, I fail to start early enough or be realistic. Sothat’s when I must . . .

2.Be willing to cross off the list some of what I had hoped to accomplish. If wedon’t have six types of traditional goodies on hand – oh well. I’m the only onewho’s disappointed – because no one else even knows what I was planning.

3.Take time to enjoy the season, whether it’s a party or a holiday movie, or justa quiet evening as usual with Mike. The time spent in enjoyment of the season isimportant.

4.And most important of all is determining a post-holiday plan of action thatfocuses on what I will do when Christmas is over. I believe Ina is right whenshe says that Christmas should help us pass the winter. My philosophy is: “It’snot over when it’s over.” It’s not too late to bake holiday cookies, finish upthat holiday display, learn to make new ornaments, quilt my holiday quilt orfinish up that crocheted lap throw. Most of all, it’s not too late for gooddeeds. Christmas is a beginning, not an end.

AndI will say with Ina, “I stood all the Christmas doings just fine.” KW

[The photos are of the interesting winter effects as the sun sets yesterday and today. The first is a view to the north with the grove reflected on June's field. In the second, the barn seems so clearly defined by light as the sun sets. The fields seem to glow in the third. And the fourth shows Mike hurrying to get into position as Nellie makes a serious point. The postcard is from my dad's collection.]

OUR LONGEST WINTER'S NAP

2011-12-21T21:15:00.000-08:00

"And Mama in herkerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settledour brains for a long winter’s nap --”

That’sjust the way it is at this time of year – our long nights are good for a longwinter’s nap. This first day of winter –the shortest day and longest night of the year – seems a fitting time to thinkabout Clement C. Moore’s poem, A Visit from St. Nicholas, now often called The Night Before Christmas.

Iwonder how many editions of The Night Before Christmas have been published since it first appeared in 1823. Moore was reportedly a scholarly man who quickly penned this poem and was moreor less embarrassed to own it. He simply didn’t see it as important, and yet itis for this that we remember him.

I have five different editions of The Night Before Christmas – three I’vehad since before I can remember.

Thisone is the “Little Golden Book” edition – and probably my favorite.

Thisone, printed by Tell Well Press in 1952, was designed by Bill and BernardMartin. It included “Santa’s New Whirly-Twirly Toy,” a charming punch-out papermobile that my dad assembled for me. Unfortunately I lost it in the great wetspring of ’96 when our basement flooded. It’s okay – it was looking tired after40+ years and the glitter had tarnished.

Apparentlymobiles were popular in that era – the ‘50s – because various mobile designsand how to create them are featured in the BHG Christmas Ideas of 1954 – and againin 1957. “Delight your whole family withan eyecatching holiday mobile. Colorful moving decorations are fascinating toput together, intriguing to watch when they’re hanging from your ceiling, awall bracket, or light fixture. To make a mobile, you don’t need much to startwith and you’ll soon find that before you finish one, you already have ideasfor another.”

Movingto my next edition, this one was probably meant to appeal to a very youngchild. It was published in 1949 by Whitman Publishing Co. and apparentlyillustrated by Eileen Fox Vaughan. The book is more like a large leaflet -- no cardboard cover -- and Santa's suit is fuzzy.

Thisone I bought for a pittance at an “after-Christmas” sale at the Hallmark Store in 2001. I wasinterested in the stated purpose of the book, a tribute to the Coca-Cola Santa, which is credited with forming America's perception of what Santa Claus looks like.

Andthis Platt & Munk edition illustrated by Holly Hobbie was actuallypublished in 1970, but I missed it, so I ordered it well-used just this year.

Ilove the poem, its history, and what illustrators do with it.

How about you? Do you have copies of the poem we now call The Night Before Christmas? KW

Put a Festive Dress on THE MANTEL

2011-12-19T21:16:00.000-08:00

No work at all

Decorating amantel for Christmas needn’t mean that year-round accessories must be removed.A handsome swag of greenery at one side, or both sides, is all you need. Better Homes andGardens Christmas Ideas, 1954 (10 pages featuring 25 mantels)

Themantel in my parents’ home invited decoration because it was deep enough tocreate a display. The large mirror provided a great backdrop, and a recessedlight created a lovely effect. Often we turned on the mantel light in the evenings while we watched tv in the next room.

Myfirst memory of the mantel is as it appears in these photos from 1951. A fewyears later, my dad framed the mirror with plywood, also encasing the chimney.

Give the traditional Madonna setting a simple,modern look

BHGChristmas Ideas, 1954

Mother had a small collection of madonnas that she loved, and you can see that she displayed two of them on the mantel in 1951. She didn't feature them often at Christmas, though, perhaps because she displayed them all the time.

Nativity scene

A lovely crèche inyour home brings you a feeling of spiritual peace. Too, it will remind you thatthe real purpose of the twenty-fifth of December is to commemorate the birth ofa child who brought new hope and faith to the world. BHG ChristmasIdeas, 1954 (Would they write this today?)

Above left: The picture is off-center, but you can see a '70's madonna, definitely a Christmas piece, sitting in front of the star. Note the little angels soaring in front of the mirror.

The creche featured on the right was probably purchased in the '60s. Originally it was brown, but eventually they painted and antiqued the three figures (Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus in a manger). Daddy build a ledge on the window sill in Mother's sewing area off the kitchen, and in later years Mother always put this creche in that window, framed with white lights.

[The postcard above is another from Vance's album.]

HOMEMADE CHRISTMAS CARDS

2011-12-17T22:09:00.000-08:00

The following is Leah's* comment on a previous post. I've brought it forward here so that I could show a few images of her homemade Christmas cards. I'm sorry for the strange configuration. If you've ever worked with Blogger, you understand.

Leah wrote: "Here'sthe story of my Christmas cards. I began making our cards by hand in 1961. Wehad money for the stamps (4cents) but not cards. So I wrote a poem of 8 stanzasabout Christmas at our house. I was a stay-at-home mom and on my portabletypewriter, I typed the poem on 67 pieces of paper, 8½ x 11, folded in half.Then I folded the "card" in half again. On half of the folded paper,I made a tree and candle out of letters typed into these shapes. Beforecomputers (and clip art), we made designs in a more creative way.

"Sending cards that I made by hand began again in the mid 60's. I cut out littlepieces, pasted them on a background shaped like a snowman, angel, crown, treeor gingerbread man. It was much more expensive than buying cards and the timeinvolved was enormous. But I loved it and so did our friends & family.These folk art cards ended up on people's trees year after year and I realizedthat I made a bright spot in people's lives for a brief moment. My son justloved them. Not so, my husband. Our kitchen table was covered with my projectpieces for weeks before Christmas as I cut out and assembled them. Felt,sequins, pipe cleaners and ribbon were everywhere. I would send 100 cards eachyear during this time period.

"When I stopped (after the gingerbread man's buttons stuck to the envelopes), myson was heartbroken. He was 17 at the time. He begged me to keep doing it."No one makes handmade cards. They are so special" he pleaded. But Iwas just plain tired of the hard work & knew that my heart wasn't in it anylonger.

"I told Brian that even though I don't make hand crafted cards today, they arestill uniquely my own creation. I found a place on the internet that allows meto choose my own greeting. Then I add a special message at the bottom (which theyprint on the card). Their selection of cards is outstanding, although veryexpensive.

"I now send 75 cards each year and receive around 40 to 45. I am notdisappointed that I don't receive as many cards as I send (although I lovegetting cards). Some people just don't send cards and that's okay. I send myChristmas cards as a gift to each person. It is to warm people's hearts andremind them that I think of them."

A great point of view on the card exchange, I think. KW

*Leah's mother's half-sister was my dad's cousin. We aren't really related by blood but our paths crossed as we researched family history.

HOMEMADE GIFTS

2011-12-16T21:22:00.000-08:00

In1954, the editors of Better Homes and Gardens included a section on homemadegifts in their Christmas Ideas edition. “Knowingwhat to choose [and] when and how to present gifts requires talent. Study theinterests and hobbies of each person on your list – then let these be yourguide to wise selections, dramatic presentation.”

Continuing,the editors preface the homemade gift section as follows: “If you can paint, sew, glue, or hammer, you’ll want to try your handat making some of these smart gifts. And once you get started, you’ll work upother clever ideas of your own. However, don’t confine your talents to yourfamily alone. Friends, too, will be delighted with attractive handmade presents– each of which carries a warm message that says ‘just for you.’ In addition,these gifts have another plus – all are easy on the pocketbook.

“Set up your ownworkshop and begin right now. Keep in mind any special interests of those onyour gift list. If Dad likes to take hold of the spoon occasionally, a sturdyapron with a clever pocket is just the answer. Your junior cowboy will gogalloping around house and yard on an easy-to-handle hobby-horse. And teen-agedaughter who likes to read will appreciate a case for her books."

Myresearch seems to indicate that at mid-century the homemade gift was not reallypopular and should be given with care, yet I come from a tradition of making gifts,and I can name several friends I believe are also from that background. When Iwas a child, especially in the ‘50s, we made gifts. My parents encouraged me tothink less about what I wanted for Christmas and more about what I could do forothers. I still prefer to think of giftsfor my loved ones than to ask what the recipient wants.

Mikestartled me when he said, “I don’t remember ever receiving a gift from mygrandparents.” My first thought was, “How sad!” Then I thought of mygrandparents and realized that while I did receive small gifts from them, theydid not provide keepsake gifts. Grandmother Ina – well, we know from herletters that giving gifts was important to her, but she had to search hercupboards to do it. If she spent money for a gift, it was to satisfy a need.And my old-world but self-made Grandfather Portfors limited what he would payfor the obligatory gift, but he would slip a few dollars to me now and then –and he helped educate all of his grandchildren.

Goingback even further to my great-grandmother Dickson, she said, “I’ll send yousomething but don’t expect much,” and the something she sent was a postcard, whichwas then cherished.

Well -- whatever -- individuals and families work through gift giving issues according to the factors involved. As for me, I'm still making gifts.

[The postcard is from my dad's postcard album -- a gift to him from Aunt Ida Patchen.

The mittens were made by our own friend and follower, "Aunt" Chris, about 50 years ago. I still treasure them.

One of my sisters said she would like as many machine lace ornaments as she could get, so guess what I'm giving her.

The shirt for Emmy was such fun to embroider. I've had the designs for several years, just waiting for her to be old enough to get the joke.

And I love the Christmas floral design on the white pillowcases.] KW

HOLIDAY GREETINGS -- AND HOW TO USE THEM IN YOUR DECOR

2011-12-15T20:01:00.000-08:00

“Insome of your holiday decorations, plan to use the greeting cards you’ve savedfrom last year. Maybe you kept them because they were handmade and carried avery special message for you. Or, perhaps they were just too pretty to throwaway. Whatever the reason, seeing them will bring back memories for you, andgive everyone who steps inside your door a chance to enjoy them.

“Endlessare the ways in which Christmas cards can be used. The six ideas here are onlya start, but you can see how attractively they can trim a door, wall, table, orstairway. After NewYear’s, paste the choicest cards in an album to look at allyear. Or select several of the most attractive, frame, and hang for year-roundenjoyment.” Better Homes and Gardens Christmas Ideas, 1954

Iwas supposed to keep the cards? Display them next Christmas? Put them inalbums? Frame them? I didn’t know . . .

WhenI was growing up, the cards were a very special part of Christmas with myparents. (I’m sure I’ve written about this before.) The routine at our housewas for my dad to make the daily trek to the post office. When he brought inthe holiday mail, the Christmas cards would be separated from the remainder andset aside. After supper, we would open and read the cards together. Motherwould update the address book as we went along. Then the cards were handed tome to be displayed. I taped the first cards to door frames, and when that wasaccomplished, I started up the stairs.

AfterChristmas, it was my job to take the cards down and sort them. If the cardcould be re-used as a package tag or in making ornaments, it was saved. Theothers were tossed. Yes, I know!!! --What were we thinking?

Iknow exactly what we were thinking -- that we just couldn’t save all that. Backin that day, my parents received many Christmas cards! Postage and cards wereinexpensive, and people sent cards liberally. It was an age when you rememberedanyone of your acquaintance – well, almost – with a card. And there were cardsfrom special friends they had known earlier in their lives. Perhaps I never would have known much about theirpast experiences if it hadn’t been for this time of sharing.

Sendingcards was a big event for almost everyone, I think. They were properly handaddressed, and many people included personal notes and letters. A few peoplesent blanket letters. I remember a piano tuner and his wife – both blind – sentan exceptionally interesting letter. As we opened each card, we read the message on the card itself and as well as letters.

Iremember this quiet activity with my parents as a very special tradition. WhenI left home, things changed quickly. Gradually the volume of cards decreased. Motherput them in a basket and invited me to look through them. Just wasn’t the same.And I was never able to duplicate this tradition in my own home either, thoughI have always displayed the present year’s cards as they come in. KW

[My mother clipped the "lady with muff" from a card but never used it. It's just the kind of image Mother loved. The "mailbox" is just the front of a '50s card, trimmed to serve as a tag. Mother embroidered the nativity and finished it as a card. And "Peace" is actually a recycled card made by a friend of mine from "previously used" cards.]

HERE'S RUDOLPH (UPDATED)

2011-12-13T17:39:00.000-08:00

Cater your decorations to the younger set because Christmas is really for children. . . . Christmas began with a family; that's why it has such a hold on the heart, why it's important to endow children with memories of family and home they will treasure. Better Homes and Garden Christmas Ideas, 1957

Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer,

Had a very shiny nose.

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glows.

I thought that readers were imagining that they saw Rudolph in the picture of Mike and Nellie on the previous post. Turns out I'm the one with the fertile imagination. However, now that the correct photo has been pointed out, yes, that's Rudolph peeking over the counter at the Christmas cookies. And here I thought he was just placidly awaiting his bath and a press job on his red velvet ribbon. Instead he was participating. Here's that picture again in case you missed Rudolph, too.

So, it's time to talk about Rudolph.

Mikeand I attend several parties during the holiday season, mostly related toorganizations and commercial interests. It seems like this is the way ofChristmas parties these days – at least, it is for us.

Afew years ago, we attended a party given by a member of the bicycle club. Thehouse looked great. The tree cast subdued lighting in the living room, and thewhole effect with other decorations was one of a Christmas fairyland. Iremarked to the host that his wife had done an excellent job with thedecorating. “It must have taken a lot of time,” I observed.

“What!This?” he replied. “It doesn’t take time. Everything comes out of storage binsfrom the garage. And when it’s over, it all goes back in the storage bins.”

Instantdecorating! I had never thought of it that way. While I was laboring long with ‘50sceramics, others were tossing stuffed animals and bigger, non-breakableitems around the room to make it merry in a hurry.

Yes,and I can hear you saying, “But that’s just not your style,” and you’re right.Nevertheless, when I see a stuffed animal / character that strikes my fancy, Ibuy it. And I have a storage bin for them, and maybe I should think aboutgetting another. And they do make a room look festive in a hurry.

Anotherthing – it awakened me to what holiday stuffed animals I (and Hallie) alreadyhad. Hallie had one of those dogs that barks Christmas songs. She also had aholiday “Puff-a-Lump.” Remember “Puff-a-Lumps”?

AndI – well, I had Rudolph. He’s old and tired – and I remember him as always oldand tired. When I was growing up, many of my toys actually belonged to my oldersisters, so one day (when I was an adult) I asked Mother where Rudolph had comefrom. “Rudolph is yours,” she said in some surprise, as if I should have known.He had been given to me, she said. She didn’t remember the details.

Acouple of years ago, the Lewiston Tribune published this old picture of ashelf-ful of “Rudolphs” at Montgomery Ward in Lewiston, 1949. Of course,“Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was a Montgomery Ward promotion. Well, thetiming was right for that Rudolph to be mine. KW

[The postcard is from Vance's postcard album and was his gift from his grandmother, Lucy Dickson, Christmas 1910. He was five years old.]

FROSTED SUGAR COOKIES

2011-12-12T20:00:00.000-08:00

Glistening sugarand colored icing, red and green sprinkles and silver dragees, cutters in theshape of bells, bows, reindeer, and toys – by the middle of the 20^thcentury, the decorated cut-out cookie had become the holiday pastry . .. The cookie cutter was born in America, the invention of Pennsylvania Dutchtinsmiths who devised them as an affordable alternative to expensive,hand-carved cookie molds. With the first crude star or Santa, the Americanstyle Christmas cookie was born. It’s a Wonderful Christmas, SusanWaggoner, 2004

Ona previous post, Leah reminisced about her mother baking rolled sugar cookiesfor Christmas. She said the cookie cutters her mother used were handmade by herfather out of tin cans. How special!

Backin the day, one of our December Saturdays was devoted to baking cookies. My mother and sister joined forces to make traditionalChristmas cookies – spritz, shortbread, and rolled cookies. Mother mixed and baked whileNina decorated and frosted. The cookies were beautifully done. Red candied cherries made holly berries while green candied pineapple was sliced for leaves. I always lovedthe rolled cookies best, though Mother’s recipe was rather delicate for mytaste. “Couldn’t we try a different recipe,” I remember asking her, and I don’tthink she appreciated it. However, in reviewing her recipe box, I notice a lotof recipes for rolled sugar cookies and wonder if she was entirely satisfied.

Whenmy children were young, I rolled and frosted both sugar and gingerbread cookiesand they were allowed to frost them. No piping at our house! Slap that frosting on the cookie, decorate with red hots or squashed mini marshmallows, and there you have it! Delicate is just not my style! I never found my ideal sugar cookie recipe,and this year I tried yet another -- “McCormick's Spiced Holiday SugarCookies,” which was featured in an advertisement. The spice is cinnamon and nutmeg in the batter.

Wehad a skiff of snow last night which made our world almost white. And it's cold -- I don’t think it warmed much above 25 today.After lunch, Nellie invited Mike to take her hunting, so out they went for acouple of hours. The time seemed right for baking the cookie dough I had mixed. I don’t know what Hallie will think, but Mike likes them and I’mpretty sure Nick will, too.

Ms.Waggoner, quoted above, states that “throughout the 1950s and 1960s, newvarieties [of Christmas cookies] were added at a staggering clip, and theannual holiday cookie section became a major feature in magazines . . .” Yes, Ihave certainly noticed the plethora of holiday cookie recipes and yet, justwhat is it that makes a cookie a holiday cookie if it isn't traditional? One magazine feature this year suggested no-bake cookies to bemade Christmas Eve. That just didn't appeal to me. I know how to make RiceKrispie treats if I need them.

Lookwhat I found today – just after I said I didn’t think I would find moretreasures. It’s my dad’s childhood postcard album. Talk about a much-lovedbook! Much loved and much worn. It holds many postcards commemorating many special occasions. KW

A DECEMBER HIKE

2011-12-11T17:35:00.001-08:00

So may I suggestthe secret of Christmas

Is not thethings you do at Christmas time

But theChristmas things you do all year through.

JohnMcDermott

Mynostalgic advent celebration keeps being interrupted by real life. I keep telling myself that it's good to have a real life.

Perhapsyou know that Mike has trouble sitting still, so he thinks of togetheractivities for us. But when December comes, I just think it all ought to beabout the coming holiday – the music, the television programs, the readingmaterial, the activity of preparation, etc. I know – that just isn’t realistic.

WhenMike said he wanted to geocache on a hiking trail at Dworkshak Dam today, Iadmit I didn’t want to go. But I need to push myself to get out of the house andout of my very comfortable rut. You know what they say: standing is better thansitting and walking is best of all. So, I reluctantly agreed to go.

Weset off from the head of the West Ridge Hiking Trail at 10:00 a.m. I wasfreezing and suggested this wasn’t the right day for such a hike, but Mikewanted to give it a try. That was the last time I thought about being cold. Itwas a good trail but rather steep – not dangerously so, just continuallybearing upward, and I came to bless the fact that it wasn’t summer. I was indeed warm enough. And slow -- oh so slow. I vowed to myself that I would never burden my family by backpacking with them. I managed to sort of keep up by moving on up the trail while Mike recorded the caches. [Through the trees in the picture above you can see Orofino, the Riverside area.]

Thegeogaches along this trail, 18 in all from one end to the other, had been hidden by a cacherout of Orofino. Most of the caches were straightforward and easy to find. Acouple were more challenging. We found them all. Only one other party had found them before us, but Mike was the first to find an off-trail cache.

Ihad never hiked in this area before, but of course I know about the DworkshakConstruction Quarry. A perfectly good mountain was sacrificed in order toprovide material for the earth-filled dam, and now this monument [left and above right] stands to tell the story. Back in the day, when work began on the dam in the mid ‘60s, locals were provided with small granite drill coresfrom this quarry (at least, I think they were from this quarry) made intopaperweights. I still have one someplace.

Wewere warned of the dangers of not staying on the trail and told not to climb overthe fence. We weren’t tempted.

Andas we came over the mountain and down to the reservoir, we could see houseboatson the lake.

Neither one of us were interested in returning to the pick-up the way we came. Wewalked back on the roadway – downhill all the way – arriving backat the trail head at 1:30. Mike said round trip it was 3 ¼ miles. It was everybit of that.

Then– because I was so good as to do all that hiking, I insisted Mike take meshopping. That’s a joke. There is no shopping in Orofino, especially if you canshop someplace else. But we visited the King’s discount store, where we didn’tbuy anything, and Harvest Foods, where we picked up some staples.

Itwas good to be home, to take care of our chores and sit by the fire. KW

FRUITCAKE AND PHOTOS

2011-12-10T20:49:00.001-08:00

Wecame to the farm Thursday. It was cold – probably about freezing – and cold inthe house. I brought with me another fruitcake trial – this time a recipe fromMother’s box in her handwriting. I had mixed the fruit and dry ingredients intown. I mixed in the eggs, packed the fruit-rich mix into bread pans lined withgreased brown paper, and set them to baking in the oven at 275.

Motherbaked fruitcake while I was at school, so I never saw the process frombeginning to end. I don’t even know for sure that this recipe is the one shepreferred. And anyway, I used my own mix of fruits, substituting golden raisinsand fruitcake mix for much of the candied fruit.

Iwasn’t sure when the cake was done. With so little batter it was hard to test.I baked it 75 minutes and then removed it from the oven.

But– in two days Mike and I managed to eat one of the loaves by ourselves. Note toself: get more fruitcake supplies and start earlier next year.

Mikegot up about 5:45 this morning to let Nellie in. The wind blew the woodsheddoor open and that was too weird for her. He checked out the lunar eclipse and tookthis picture of the Christmas tree.

WhenI got up, I noticed a deer at the far side of the “north forty.” And then therewere five in the middle of the field. I think they know the season closed. KW