Memory Monday: Jack and Jill - Now and Then

JACK AND JILL—NOW AND THEN

Like most people “my age,” I grew up chanting the nursery rhyme. You know the one:

Jack and Jill went up the hill

To fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down and broke his crown

And Jill came tumbling after.

The other day I was doing some research and looking at one of my old books, BABY WORLD—STORIES, RHYMES, AND PICTURES FOR LITTLE FOLKS, published in 1884, five years before my great-grandmother married. I wonder if she heard this from her mother.

JACK AND JILL

Long, long ago, a Mother said

Unto her children small.

"Now Jack and Jill, go up the hill—

And see that you don't fall,

Fetch me a pail of water back,

And hurry with a will,"

"Oh, no, mamma," said Lazy Jack,

"Oh, yes, mamma," said Jill,

The Mother frowned an angry frown;

They went as she directed—

Alas_, she saw them coming down,

Sooner than she Expected !

You know the story, children all ?—

If Jack had. scorned to grumble,

Perhaps he 'd not have had that fall,

And made his sister tumble.

As I read this again, I realized two things: 1) my great-grandmother probably wouldn’t have read this rhyme. She was born in Russia and came to America as a little girl, so I doubt that my great-great-grandmother could read English. 2) After seeing how the longer rhyme was shortened to the version I grew up with, I think I can see how some of the stuff I see today came about—“I laughed out loud” to LOL. In another fifty years, will our minds just send a buzz and the other person will understand what we mean? 

Throwback Thursday: Formal Picture of Three

Here's my caption:
Lady in the middle—Anyone for Musical Chairs?”

What's yours? Feel free to leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Frosting a Cake

My great-grandmother and her family

FROSTING A CAKE

Next month, I will need to plan a family birthday dinner. We might have cake or, if the birthday girl wishes, a pie. This got me to thinking of something I saw in a cookbook a few months back—something about making frosting for a cake. I looked it up and want to share it with you. This is from THE YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS FRIEND, published in 1861. Maybe my great-great grandmother made something for my great-grandmother who was one year old when the book came out.

Frosting.

A pound of the best of fine white sugar, the whites of three fresh eggs, a teaspoonful of nice starch, pounded, and sifted through a piece of muslin or a very fine sieve, the juice of half a lemon, and a few drops of the essence.

Beat the whites to a stiff froth, then add them to the sugar, and stir it steadily until it will stay where you put it. It will take nearly two hours, perhaps more. Dredge a little flour over the cake, and brush it off with a feather. This is to prevent the frosting from being discolored by the butter contained in the cake. Lay it on smoothly with a knife, when the cake is nearly cool, and return the cake to the oven twelve or fif teen minutes. The oven should be very moderate.

You know, I really admire the women of the 19^th Century, but I am so happy to live in the 21^st Century. When I want to frost a cake, I just open one of those white plastic containers with the puffy little doughboy on the front and spread on the sweet goodness (and if any is left—well, to the cook to goes the extra)

Throwback Thursday: People in a Carriage

Here's my caption:

How many people do you think we can pile into the buggy and still have one horse pull it to town?

That's my caption, what's yours? Feel free to leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Carving Meat

My great-grandfather

CARVING MEAT YEARS AGO, BUT NOT TODAY

Recently, I got an electric knife. It makes slicing roast so-o-o easy and all the slices are nice and thin. It used to be when I carved the roast, it would have some slices thicker than others and some that just came away in chunks.

Also recently I came across a section in a cookbook from 1865, titled MRS. GOODFELLOW’S COOKERY, AS IT SHOULD BE. (This came out about the time about the time my great-grandfather was released from the army after the Civil War.) In it there is a section on carving and the need for every man to be knowledgeable about how to do it. A couple of descriptions really caught my eye and I wanted to share them:

A TONGUE. Cut near ly through the middle, at the line 1. and take thin slices front each side. The fat is situated underneath, at the root of the tongue.

Half of Calf’s Head.

CALF'S Head. There is much more meat to be obtained from a calf's head by carving it one way than another. Carve from A to B, cutting quite down to the bone. At the fleshy part of the neck end you will find the throat sweetbread which you can help a slice of with the other part; you will remove the eye with the point of the knife and divide it in half, helping those to it who profess a preference for it, there are some tasty, gelatinous pieces around it which are palatable. Remove the jaw bone, and then you will meet with some fine flavoured lean; the palate, which is under the head, is by some thought a dainty and should be proffered when carving.

OK, that is two dishes I will never make, so my husband and son don’t have to learn how to carve them. (Yes, they can both thank me when they read this post and see how good I am being to them.)

What are the most unusual (or yucky) dishes you have had to eat or deal with?

Throwback Thursday: People and a Barrel

Here's my caption:

We’re going to take turns rolling downhill and see who goes the fastest. Want to join us?

What's your caption? Leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: My Paternal Grandfather, A Man Who Suffered Much But Found Happiness

My Grandfather

A MAN WHO SUFFERED MUCH BUT FOUND HAPPINESS

Will Curry was my paternal grandfather. When I look at the picture above, I hardly recognize him. He looks so stern, sad, and almost hopeless. And then I think back on what I’ve heard about his life.

Here are some of the things I know about him:

--In 1904, his parents divorced when he was just a youngster. His mother, along with his sisters, left and moved to New Mexico with her new husband. He stayed with his father and his new wife (who was just about 10 years older than he was). At one time he left home because of the situation with her and moved in with his older brother—in the same town.

--At twenty, he married the woman he loved very, very much, but they had to wait for seven years for their firstborn (my father). They had a second child, a daughter, four years later. My grandfather was twenty-six and with two children—ages 9 and 4, when he became a widower. My grandmother developed double pneumonia and died. But he struggled through.

--Life was hard for my grandfather and his family. My father told me one of the jobs he had to do as a young boy for his father was to cut cardboard pieces to cover the holes in his father’s shoes so he could walk to the grocery store where he worked. There was just no money to buy new shoes or even to have them repaired. To make matters worse, sometime before 1930, his mother—now widowed—moved in with him, along with his late wife’s brother and his family. That made nine people living in a two bedroom house with a screened-in sun porch. (I know this house well. My grandfather still owned that house when I married. It was where we always went to visit him when we were growing up).

--When my father was sixteen, my grandfather married a widow. But things must not have been happy between my father and his step-mother, because my father went to live with his aunt and uncle in another town when my father was in his senior year of high school. My father never called his step-mother anything but “Myrtle” even though we always called her “Mamaw.”

--At approximately 78 years old, Papaw (which is what we always called him), left the home he had lived in for almost fifty years and moved into a nursing home with his second wife. She passed away in 1972—a week after I married, and Papaw moved in with my parents. He lived with them for two years before he fell, broke his hip and discovered he had cancer. He never left the hospital. He was 85 years old.

But the thing I remember most about my grandfather was how he learned to be content, even happy, after all the problems he had lived through.

Papaw and Mamaw

One last thing, our son shares the same middle name as my father, who shared the same middle name as his father. But my son also shares something else with his great-grandfather. Even though they never knew each other (my grandfather passing away in the mid-1970s, and my son not being born until the mid-1980s), they share the same birthday.

Throwback Thursday: Two Women and a Tire

"And for our next DIY project, we will show how to make a picture frame from an old tire."

There's my caption, what's yours? Feel free to leave your caption in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Things from the Past and My Thoughts on Them

My Daddy with his sister and cousin

THINGS FROM THE PAST AND MY THOUGHT ON THEM

My daddy is in the picture above—he’s the one in the middle with the modified bowl haircut. The book Things My Mother Made (published in 1913) came out a few years before he was born. Maybe his mother followed some of the advice in the book. Some of these things were common knowledge back then. As I read through this book, several things caught my eye and I wanted to share them. Items from the book are in bold and my thoughts are in-between.

AUTHOR'S FOREWORD

Good food depends as largely upon the judgment of the cook, as upon the materials used. These recipes and Household Hints are written very plainly, for those who have had no experience, no practice and possibly have little judgment.

I love that last part--“possibly have little judgment.”

To Save Confusion in the Home

"Plan your work, then work your plan."

Monday—Wash, if you have it done in the house. If sent out, use that day for picking up and putting things in order, after the disorder of Sunday.

Tuesday—Iron.

Wednesday—Finish ironing and bake; wash kitchen floor.

Thursday, Friday—Sweep and dust, thoroughly.

Saturday—Bake, and prepare in every way pos sible, for the following day.

We have a different schedule:

Monday-Tuesday my husband does something, I write

Wednesday—grocery shopping, I write (or search the internet)

Thursday—my husband does laundry, I write

Friday—my husband sweeps, dusts, mops and does the bathroom, I write

Saturday—whatever

Sunday—Church and enchilada for Sunday Dinner (blog post on enchiladas coming)

Yep, I like my schedule better.

To Remove Disagreeable Odors from the House

Sprinkle fresh ground coffee, on a shovel of hot coals, or burn sugar on the shovel. This is an old-fashioned disinfectant, still good.

Today, I’d just spray some Febreeze.

To Soften Boots and Shoes

Rub them with kerosene. Shoes will last longer, if rubbed over with drippings from roast lamb. Old-fashioned people always used mutton tallow on children's shoes.

Wonder what the shoes would smell like in the hot sun?

When you Go Away from Home for a Few Days

Plan your meals before leaving. This simplifies matters for the one left in charge.

But isn’t that what McDonald’s and pizza delivery are for?

When Pies are Ready to Bake

Put little dabs of lard, on the top crust, then hold it under the faucet, letting cold water run over it.

This one I just don’t understand. Why? Wouldn’t the lard drops be washed away? And wouldn’t the pie turn out soggy?

Never Leave a Glass of Water or Medicine, Un covered in a Room

This is very important. Water will absorb all the gases, with which a room is filled from the respiration of those sleeping in the room.

This one I thought was just interesting. But on second thought, wouldn’t it be better to leave out several glasses of water so they will absorb all those nasty gases and in the morning just pour out all that nasty water? Wouldn’t that leave the room cleaner? Just wondering.

I am so-o-o-o glad in live now and not back then.

What would your favorite time period to live in?