“A dull day,” writes Grandma Ina in her diary over and over again between November and March -- “A dull day.”
“A dull day,” repeats Mike thoughtfully, and then concludes, “as opposed to a bright day.” However, Ina referred to a sunny day as “a good day.”
Winter days in this region are often overcast and “dull,” even if the temperature is moderate. We don’t have much sunlight this time of year. The lack of light affects our activities and for some of us, our ability to cope; it makes us feel dull, depressed, uninspired. Today dawned bright and sunny. As I drove a friend to the grocery store, she remarked on how wonderful it was to see the sun and how she would like more sunlight.
Back in the day when homes weren’t electrified, natural light was very important to the accomplishment of the tasks of daily living. For one thing, the dark sky shortens an already short day. For another, we just don’t see as well when light is dim. Lantern light is effective only in darkness and then it tends to be shadowy. So, any housewife without electricity would have to consider well the daylight hours available to her before beginning a task, especially on a winter’s afternoon. Truly, the housewife of yore had to manage her tasks well on short winter days.
I remember Ina sitting in her old overstuffed rocker by the big dining room window where she read or stitched by the natural light. She wore a visor with a green celluloid bill that filtered the light for her. Sometimes in my mind’s eye I can see her sitting there yet, the radio, her Bible, and her pin cushion within reach. Who needs ghosts? Or maybe that memory is the ghost.
As I sew here in our little town house this winter, there’s a time in the afternoon when my thought is arrested by the beauty of the natural light, especially if the sun happens to be shining. It seems like there’s a sudden burst of light as the sun approaches the western horizon. (Perhaps it’s just that the sun has come out from behind the shed.) “This is great!” I’ll think to myself, but it’s really the signal that daylight will soon begin to wane. Within a few minutes a dullness creeps in and shadows lengthen. I can hear my mother say, “We’re losing our light.” Once the sunlight begins to fade, it goes quickly. Well, if I didn’t have that electric lighting, I would have to clear away my sewing and gather whatever I need for the evening’s activities. Like Ina, I would bustle from room to room gathering the needful for my evening’s comfort.
Of course, I’ve never known a world without the magic of electricity. But when I was young we spent some evenings at the farm. It didn’t surprise me that my dad knew how to cope as evening fell since this was his home place. At dusk he gathered several kerosene lanterns for the kitchen work and stoked the wood cook stove. But what did surprise my child mind was that my mother also “knew the drill,” as it were, without any coaching. But of course, she too had known life prior to electricity.
[The picture of the back of the farm house was taken in 1918 during the first winter of its habitation. This side of the house has western exposure. Note all the windows to take advantage of the afternoon light. The photo of the dining room shows the Aladdin lamp above the table. Though Ina was proud of the Aladdin lamp, eventually it was replaced by a larger kerosene lantern that filled the room with light sufficient for evening dining and reading.] KW
One Christmas when I was a child -- and only once -- certain family members gathered at the Gilbert homestead for a pre-Christmas party. I was three that Christmas, and yes, I remember it. I remember the doll I received. I immediately named her "Corny" for her bright yellow hair. I also received one of those animal books where each page represents an animal and by squeezing the page a noisemaker makes the appropriate animal sound. As I recall, it was reasonably lifelike. I remember that photos were taken of various family groupings.
Photo right, back row: My cousin, Shirley Jean Robinson Johnson, Dale Johnson holding their daughter, Patty; Grandma Ina is seated right of the tree, and Ethel Dobson Robinson sits next to her. My dad, Vance, sits on the floor holding me with his sister Myrtle Dobson in the center of the photo. I can't help but wonder if the rug is the one the family gave Ina and Jack the Christmas of '36.
Photo left is another posed grouping, and "posed" is right. Shirley Jean and my mother, Dorothy, seem to wax dramatic for the camera. "Now I have two girls -- one on each knee," said Dale. Myrtle, Grandma Ina, and Ethel complete the photo.
Here's a photo of Ina with her granddaughter, me, and her great-granddaughter, Patty. Patty is two years older than I. I wonder if we couldn't have been prevailed upon to lighten up a bit for the sake of the camera.
December 24, 2009 -- same corner, different world.
We've had our "tree," and Mike is watching SMU, his alma mater, play Nevada in the Hawaii Bowl as we wait for the "mystery pecan pie" to cool enough to eat.
Happy Christmas to all -- and to all a good night! KW
[My dad's sister, Ethel Dobson Robinson, was five years his senior. They were good friends. She passed in February 1980, he in November 1987. The snapshot is of Aunt Ethel and her daughter, Shirley Jean, taken the summer of 1936. Granted Aunt Ethel was barely five feet tall, but still -- I was amused that she refers to Shirley Jean as a "small girl." Shirley Jean passed on in 1996.]
January 3, 1937!
Just think of it – 1937
Dear Vance:
Well here we are peering anxiously into the future, and hoping "something will turn up, Mr. Micawber."
A wintry landscape greets the eye wherever one may look, and we've had several cold days. Tonight there is a bluish look near the horizon that seems to presage a Chinook. Have had some two inches of snow and frost since Christmas.
And speaking of that day, we had another of those awful "skimpy" affairs, which leaves us all wondering "where to put the new things, when we barely had room enough for the old!" One thing certain, the new rug could go only one place, so we put it on the living room floor and it looks very nice and seems to add space to that room.
Your beautiful box came on Dec. 26th so we still had Christmas, but I almost wept when I saw the lovely tapers, silver table ornament and luscious holly! Those were the most beautiful holly I've ever seen, it seems to me – so full of berries, and how beautifully your blue boxes looked in among the silver sprays. It was a veritable treasure chest. You were very generous to remember each one, and who but you would think of buying a screwdriver for Dad and writing such a tag!
Shirley Jean was delighted with her jewel box and how do you happen to know that such trinkets delight a small girl's heart? Ernest said to tell you your present was very enjoyable during the Christmas season. I, as usual, was low on nose fodder, but now I can blow loudly and long – thanks to you.
We had a jolly time and much clacking of tongues was heard in the land. A large and varied menu was enjoyed, to which everyone did justice until the dessert was reached, then one and all "passed" until a later date. Ruth was the only one who felt able to have dessert but balked when she found she'd have to solo on it. We women gathered in the kitchen after the table was cleared, opened the oven door and gathered round in various attitudes of comfort. Then we "let our hair down" and visited. Uncle and Ralph trickled off toward home to do chores, but "Aunt and the girls" stayed until later on. The holidays faded away gradually, for Henry and Shirley stayed until the following Sunday evening and we enjoyed it.
You'll rejoice to know the rainwater cistern is a-borning – it is now down to 7 feet in depth and is 8 feet across. The digging is very hard, for it is now frozen hard pan, but it won't have to go a great deal deeper. It's going to be a real boon, for it will more than cut this awful chore of hauling water in half. E.G. [Ernest, I think – Ethel's husband] is planning to put a timber cribbing around the top on the outside of the bricks to bring the well top to the same level as the porch. Then we can just walk right to the pump from the porch with no steps to climb up and down. "I can hardly wait until Saturday night to try it."
Did we ever tell you of the big golden eagle Dad caught in the traps? He measured 76 inches, tip to tip, and weighed over 9 lbs. He was a beauty, and I'll send you his picture later on. Also, last Wed. a.m. he found a coyote had made off with a trap on his leg, so S.J. and Ernest went after him. They followed him to the bottom of the canyon, via Stove Creek, thence almost to Wheeler, thence across the creek, and there gave him up. It was S.J.'s first trip to the canyon, and it was under very adverse circumstances, for the snow made hard going. Ernest said she didn't once whimper but just slogged along. We thought she'd be a wreck the next day, but she wasn't even stiff.
Today I have done very little of anything – just loafed around and now I must come out of it and do dinner dishes. We'll be having popcorn, candy, and "nertz" presently.
Love and all good wishes for this New Year.
Ethel
P.S. If you have time and opportunity, read "The Life of Omar Khayyam," by Harold Lamb. It is a very fine account, based as much on fact as is possible, of the life of Omar. Most interesting – story form. E.
P.S. Of all things, didn't J.B.s remember us – we Robinsons, I mean. I was just overwhelmed – and mad! When I was in town this fall she refused to speak to me – turned her back, that is, so she wouldn't have to speak. No reason that I know of why she shouldn't. It burns me up to be remembered at Xmas time under those circumstances.
[Photos: Grandpa Jack in the yard, February 1936. See Dick the dog. The cistern -- still there though with a cement cover. And perhaps this is the photo of Jack and the eagle.]
[Take a step back in time and enjoy this old-fashioned Christmas celebration at our Idaho farmhouse. This first letter is from my grandmother, Ina Dobson, to her son, Vance, who is a piano teacher in Raymond, Washington. (See photo left) Ina's daughter, Ethel, and her husband, Ernest, are there at the farm for Christmas with their 10-year-old daughter, Shirley Jean. Ina's youngest daughter, Shirley, is also there. She works at a doctor's office in Orofino. The next June Shirley will marry Henry Shockley, who is also mentioned in the letter.]
Sunday, Jan. 3, 1937
Dearest Vance,
You are getting my first letter of 1937! We have some snow. It began the Sunday following Xmas for we had a black one [no snow for Christmas.] It was very merry though with six of us here to enjoy it. We were all so glad you called us and started the day off fine.
We had our tree without the June’s this year and it was a full one. Shirley Jean went with Ernest to get it and Dad set it up Thursday forenoon. Then she, Shirley and Henry trimmed it. Shirley was sort of weak from a touch of flu so doctor told her she’d better come home Wednesday evening and from then on it seemed really like Xmas to me. Henry is good company, too, and he didn’t go over home till Xmas Eve.
Shirley Jean was thrilled to be allowed to tie on gifts, etc. She hung up her stocking at the fireplace and Dad did too as he usually does when a grandchild is here. Shirley Jean was allowed to slip down and get her sock before everyone else was up. We only stipulated that it should not be too early morning. I put a book in the top of it, so as to keep her quiet till we were up. After breakfast she was allowed to take off gifts and hand them around and was delighted.
It was another “skimpy Xmas,” with everyone well-remembered. Earle and Bernice sent us a plaque representing the covered wagon days. A wagon in the foreground and the train stretching beyond, the skull of an ox adds a touch of realism. It is about 8x10 and very interesting, looks fine on the mantel. They sent me a pen and pencil set in green. Myrtle sent Dad a bag of nuts and I put that in his sock. Shirley gave us a set of pretty plates in wild rose design and Shirley Jean gave us a sugar and creamer to match. I already had cups and saucers, platter and bowls in that design so feel pretty well fixed now for dishes. Ethel gave me a set of mixing bowls in heavy pink glass for my birthday . . .Gene sent me a box of pretty handkerchiefs and Ben sent a box of stationery in a book-shaped box. They will keep on sending things at Xmas, though I’d prefer being left out on it. Dad gave me pretty boudoir slippers, so I did well. There were other small remembrances and cards which I will spare you in my recital.
The rug is very pretty. Henry brought it out after taking Shirley back Sunday P.M. after Xmas for she had Saturday and Sunday off, too, but failed to get those days off after New Year’s Day. Henry, Ernest, and Shirley got it down the A.M. of New Year’s Day. (We were at June’s for dinner and had the usual spread tho Aunt had told us to not expect much.) It makes the room look larger and lighter. Thank you for your share in it. Your box came the day after Xmas and so prolonged it for us. I gathered them all around and all enjoyed the beautifully wrapped gifts and the verses on them. The holly decorations were so lovely, too. Shirley and Henry immediately began to further embellish the house with them. They took down the big etching over the mantel and hung the large cluster you made there and used the silvered branches over the other two. What a lot of time you must have spent on them and how beautiful they are. We reserved some and the ball sprays for our Sunday dinner decorations. We made a lovely centerpiece of holly and the sprays and candles and dined in state with the best cloth, dishes, etc., all by candle light. So don’t feel bad that yours didn’t get here for Xmas as we had more opportunity to enjoy it. As I said it just prolonged our festivities, really. Shirley Jean’s box is so pretty and quaint-like. [Vance had sent Shirley Jean a small jewelry box.] Dad’s gift was a very happy thought and mine of the salt and pepper very clever and handy and already have seen service. I like them. They are so nice to pick up. Well, shall ring off on Xmas!
Well, anyway it was a red-letter one with the folks here. I’m keeping your card and the leaves on my gift and Ethel is keeping hers. What a jumble this is! But you’ll understand! I hope you’ll tell us all about your Xmas, etc. We kept the house all decorated till yesterday when we moved the tree out and all. It was the first time we’d had the garlands up since ’30 when Ethel and Shirley Jean were here for Xmas the last time.
Well, we’ve just had dinner – beef soup . . .huckleberry pie with whipped cream. Of course, you’ll understand there were in-betweens. Mrs. Dawson gave Shirley some maple sugar for Xmas and she sent part up here, so we are going to have waffles with maple syrup one of these days. Come over and you may have yours with whipped cream and [?] maple sugar ala Rectors.
Now I think I’ll stop for Ethel and Shirley Jean are also writing.
Love and all good wishes for the New Year. Mother Inda
[A few pieces of the dishes Ina mentions, "Wild Rose" by Homer Laughlin, were left here in the house, so I took a picture of a placesetting. I have enjoyed researching that pattern online.]
Your letter came today and I was going to write today. Isn't it lucky I can answer a letter while it is still warm!
Well, my dear son, you are too generous as usual. A whole $5 bill. Where do the rest come in on this? It cost $9.99, no not quite that [to fix the radio], and you see this is half of the whole, and The Readers' Digest, too! That will be lovely. I've always wanted that magazine. Oh, thank you Vance, but that doesn't at all express it. You know what I mean tho. I strongly suspect you of 'ulterior motives.' 'The fiver will come handy just now,' says you. Well, dearest, don't worry over us. We'll make it all right. I don't intend to do without food and decent clothes and plenty of light such as it is. We have lately sold two little 2 ½ gallon cans of cream and each brought us $3.60, more than a 5 gallon used to do. We have a fresh cow so cream will be coming on faster and we pay as we go. The hens are beginning to lay now, too, and eggs are 40 cents. I wonder how all this sounds to you now. It must sound queer! I know it does. You have been away from it all so long. Dad beefed the steer to day with help from June and Ralph. It is nice and fat and we'll sell half of it if we can, and can a lot. I just used my last jar of canned beef yesterday.
Weather is bright and cold, the ground frozen hard. It is making water scarce and we need lots more moisture but we do enjoy the bright days, for we had so much fog and frost and gloom for a while.
The radio is up and going, but we must look after the connections as we're getting poor results. I feel quite proud that I could set it up without trouble and we got different batteries too and different tubes.
I think the Reader's Digest will be fine for both [sisters]. I know Myrtle is crazy about it, and Pearl hasn't much time for reading so the condensed form will be good and Al will like it too.
Well, I'm so bedeviled and bemused with everything around here that this evening I trimmed the Aladdin lamp on the library table, then finding no matches on the mantel went to the kitchen, took one, lit it, and carried it carefully to this room. When I came to, I was so tickled over my own foolishness that I nearly blew out the lamp. I was laughing and I get silly every time I think of it. I mean all this Xmas packing, sorting, carding, lettering, mailing, etc., etc. I'm like the woman "Uncle Josh" told about. "She opened the valise, took out the purse, shut the valise," etc. etc. – remember it?
I've got Myrtle's package still to pack. Yours was got ready today and I hope you may like it. The rest are gone. No, I didn't spend any money to speak of – couldn't – but looked around and found a couple of books, new, though we'd read them, so sent one to Ernest and Ethel and one to Al and Pearl; sent Stan Dickens' A Christmas Carol and Shirley Jean The Five Little Peppers. Dad put in some Xmas popcorn, for it seems what they get there doesn't pop. Shirley put in a booklet for each [Stan & Shirley Jean] having the Bible story of the nativity to read Christmas Eve. I had a supply of stationery from the Rexall sale and sent Earle & Bernice a nice big box such as they like. Myrtle, I got a shoulder scarf to wear at her work. Shirley a pretty white slip. She wears white uniforms and needs lots of slips. For Dad I got a pair of nice wool dress socks tho he rarely wears them as such but likes to wear them inside his heavy ones and his supply was getting rather low. I got a nut cracker and pix [picks] for June & Aunt, tho he has no teeth at all and she only the lowers, but they'll eat nuts, you'll see. I got Ruth a cute figurine holding fish and egg timer in its mouth. Doris gets a booklet, Xmas reading, and tree decorations. She is the tree girl as well as reader up there. Ralph gets something – don't know just what yet – and I'll have treats on the tree for all, mostly sugared popcorn as they all voted it best for before dinner consumption. Of course, there will be candy and nuts after dinner. We'll ask Mr. Boehm down, poor lonely soul.
Now I must close . . . With much love and all good wishes, Mother
[The photo of the barnyard was taken by Ina in 1936. She calls our attention to the newspaper at the top of the photo that Jack, her husband, was holding to shade the camera.] KW
Hallie asked how Ina coped when it was cold. The house wasn't insulated, so you know it was drafty. No electricity, no heat source other than wood stoves, no pipes to worry about -- that in itself was probably a good thing. The kitchen stove was a wood stove, and while it was a heat source, the kitchen was not open to the dining room as it is today, which would have restricted the heat flow. So, yes, they closed the pocket doors between the living and dining rooms and lit a wood stove which sat at the bottom of the stairs -- perhaps the very one Mike installed in his shop. And their waking hours were spent in the kitchen and dining room. You can read for yourself what Ina said about coping in the cold.
Ina writes to Vance on February 16, 1936:
Well, I wish you were here right now. The hill east is a marvelous pink and the shadows fall blue to its top. We have about three feet of snow and it is cold. It began piling up week before last and we have had sub-zero weather off and on ever since. Week ago Friday at 9:30 p.m. it was 12 degrees below. That is the coldest we have noted. The last few days are colder – yesterday a.m. it was 8 degrees below, this a.m. 6 degrees below and the highest today we noted was 4 degrees above. Dad keeps a lantern in the cellar “of a nite” and nothing has frozen. At Musser’s it registered 19 degrees below. Reports from Saskatchewan are as low as 55 degrees below, Montana 40 degrees below. I dread to think of Pearl [living the farm life in Alberta] . . . The front door is corked up. We have been using the dining room evenings this cold weather. It is so much warmer, but I’m going back to the other room as soon as possible. I make a little fire in the bedroom every evening now and then the bed is warm. I hang up some things by the stove so keep comfortable. . .Now I must go and build the fire in the bedroom and wash my late dinner dishes and do all the little things to make the evening comfortable. . . .Monday, a.m., and 4 degrees below but clear as a bell. Dad has Earl Plank here and they are sawing down a tree by the pond for wood. We have plenty of limbs but snow too deep to get to them.
The stove she speaks of lighting in the evenings was probably in the master bedroom upstairs. That was Jack's room. In their latter years, she used the downstairs bedroom while Jack slept upstairs. And from what she says, it sounds as if they felled a tree in cold weather because they can't get to the wood. Oh well -- something for the guys to do. But if they couldn't get to the wood, could they get to the outhouse? KW