In northern India there is an ancient
custom of burning effigies once a year to wipe away the tragedies and
disappointments of the past year and begun anew.
The Germans shoot fireworks on New Year’s to frighten away any evil spirits in the vicinity.
Spaniards
gather at midnight in the Puerta del Sol in Madrid. As the old clock
strikes midnight, each person eats a grape with each strike, believing
this brings luck for the new year.
Many people in France and
Scandinavia burn yule logs cut from fruit trees to bring a good harvest
in the year to come. All of these customs illustrate the need people
feel for a fresh start in their lives.
In the United States the
unofficial custom (we think) is to sit in front of the TV and watch
football until the pattern comes on and the TV goes off for the night on
some stations, but if you have cable football just goes on and on and
you can find game playing almost any time or place.
If you aren’t
a football fan, you have to find another place in the house where there
is a television to watch without football. Then, too, you can entertain
yourself with the computer, because there is always someone there to
chat with.
Like Thanksgiving, the men (and some women) are gather
around the set and can’t be torn away for the New Year’s dinner. Many
homes have a buffet so all can take the time to pick out what they would
like to eat, but they do it during the commercials. When one game ends
another starts and there is no intermission for going to the table and
sitting for dinner. Mothers and wives have learned a buffet takes care
of everything.
For those of us that aren’t football fanatics, you
can find oodles to take up your time. Maybe you decide to take down the
Christmas tree and decorations. I like to take the basket of Christmas
cards and read them all over again.
During the holiday rush when
the cards start arriving, you glance through the mail and save the
greeting cards, barely acknowledging who they are from. After the
holiday excitement has subsided is a good time to go back and really
read and enjoy your cards and letters. It’s the one time that you hear
from some of your friends and relatives.
Perhaps you are lucky
and are in a family that does traditional things that don’t include
football. Maybe you take in a movie that takes you into the theater. So
many people rent movies now that they don’t see the inside of a theater
that many times anymore. For a family to enjoy a movie in a theater can
be quite expensive. Remember when movies were 10 cents for kids and 50
cents for adults? Then, too, if you received ice skates, skis, or
snowmobile gear, you go off to enjoy the gift. Maybe you might like to
pretend you are in a southern climate or on a cruise ship and go
swimming in an indoor pool. You didn’t need to take that holiday trip
after all.
So, what have you planned Did you
make any New Year’s Resolutions to be kept for the entire year or
perhaps until the end of January? I finally gave up on even trying to
keep any resolutions...I would forget I had them when I broke one,
so...? It’s a waste of time.
Happy New Year, everyone.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Mother's Christmas different
When I was a little girl, my stocking,
which was stuffed by Santa, was just as interesting as all of the
presents under the tree.
I must take after my mother, because her Christmas stocking was important to her, too. When she was little, there were times that a stocking was all she got for Christmas.
Grandpa came from Switzerland and was a cheese maker, so with seven girls and three boys in her family, money wasn’t always plentiful.
But the family had a lot of love and good times together. The Christmas tree was a gift as much as anything.
The tree was brought in when all of the children were in school and put up and decorated in the parlor with the doors closed.
When the children came home from school they were told that no one was allowed in the parlor until Christmas Eve.
There was as much excitement over seeing the Christmas tree after supper after the dishes were done up and everyone went into the parlor.
Their father lit the candles on the tree and their mother had the bucket of water safely by “just in case.”
My mother has told me about how the children helped string the popcorn and dried berries o decorate the tree.
The bird’s nest that the children hunted for all fall was placed in the tree for good luck
The precious few ornaments that their mother brought from Switzerland were to be viewed but not touched. Grandfather played the accordion and so the children would gather around and sing carols. The Christmas story would be read by mother from the Bible and then it was off to bed to await St. Nicholas. I wonder how many families do this today?
In the morning there would be presents for everyone; my mother often wondered how her parents provided something for all of them.
It might be just one gift each, but there was something. One she received a game her father had made from wood.
In their stockings they would always have an orange, which was a really great treat as fresh fruit in winter time was not plentiful and was costly.
There would be some candy, perhaps a pencil for school, hair ribbons for the girls and always a pair of stockings which were long and mother had knitted.
There were always decorated cookies made only at holiday time and other pastries from recipes that came from the old country.
It was a happy Christmas for all.
How different it is today. Children expect expensive computer games, cellphones, tickets to sports events, expensive jewelry for both boys and girls, small stuffed animals with money tucked in the paw or neck, CDs, DVDs and players.
What would my mom’s siblings think of today’s stuffers?
Please pass on your Christmas memories to the next generations in your own family. Merry Christmas everyone!
I must take after my mother, because her Christmas stocking was important to her, too. When she was little, there were times that a stocking was all she got for Christmas.
Grandpa came from Switzerland and was a cheese maker, so with seven girls and three boys in her family, money wasn’t always plentiful.
But the family had a lot of love and good times together. The Christmas tree was a gift as much as anything.
The tree was brought in when all of the children were in school and put up and decorated in the parlor with the doors closed.
When the children came home from school they were told that no one was allowed in the parlor until Christmas Eve.
There was as much excitement over seeing the Christmas tree after supper after the dishes were done up and everyone went into the parlor.
Their father lit the candles on the tree and their mother had the bucket of water safely by “just in case.”
My mother has told me about how the children helped string the popcorn and dried berries o decorate the tree.
The bird’s nest that the children hunted for all fall was placed in the tree for good luck
The precious few ornaments that their mother brought from Switzerland were to be viewed but not touched. Grandfather played the accordion and so the children would gather around and sing carols. The Christmas story would be read by mother from the Bible and then it was off to bed to await St. Nicholas. I wonder how many families do this today?
In the morning there would be presents for everyone; my mother often wondered how her parents provided something for all of them.
It might be just one gift each, but there was something. One she received a game her father had made from wood.
In their stockings they would always have an orange, which was a really great treat as fresh fruit in winter time was not plentiful and was costly.
There would be some candy, perhaps a pencil for school, hair ribbons for the girls and always a pair of stockings which were long and mother had knitted.
There were always decorated cookies made only at holiday time and other pastries from recipes that came from the old country.
It was a happy Christmas for all.
How different it is today. Children expect expensive computer games, cellphones, tickets to sports events, expensive jewelry for both boys and girls, small stuffed animals with money tucked in the paw or neck, CDs, DVDs and players.
What would my mom’s siblings think of today’s stuffers?
Please pass on your Christmas memories to the next generations in your own family. Merry Christmas everyone!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Christmas not too early
Some people find something wrong with everything.
There are people who think Christmas is too commercial. They complain that stores put up their decorations too early. Perhaps they are right in many ways, but I think the poor economy has something to do with it this year.
Personally, I don’t care when a store starts decorating for Christmas as long as it isn’t the 4th of July. People don’t need to start their Christmas shopping until they are ready. However, I had a friend who always had her Christmas cards addressed and ready to send when the time came. She wrote them while sitting around her pool in July; it was one thing she could be ahead on. She purchased her cards after Christmas while they were on sale.
There are retirees who leave in the fall for their winter homes in Florida. They do their shopping during the summer before they leave and leave them behind to be distributed at Christmas. They save big on postage
I enjoy all the decorations that a store owner or homeowner puts forth; if we have the opportunity to enjoy them when there is still nice weather to get out, doesn’t it make it easier to appreciate them?
There are many senior citizens’ organizations who plan trips to New York City to view the shop windows and do some shopping. It’s why the stores do the trimming early and there are hours of time put forth to get those windows in the scenes and themes they do such a wonderful job on. Besides that is the time when we people take the time to make the trip before all of the hustle bustle of the times.
I like all of the bright colorful lights of Christmas – it’s the favorite time of year for a good many people and they show it. There is a kind of awe and wonder to a lighted Christmas tree. It gives me a warm happy feeling that tells me everything isn’t commercial. The Christmas tree is a symbol of love. I always get depressed and sad when the holiday season is over and everyone takes down their lights and decorations and it’s gloomy winter again.
Trees in homes generally do not look like trees in public places. Have you noticed this? The ones in the home have family ornaments and keepsakes on them. Homemade treasures handed down from year to year as well as ornaments with names and dates written on them. Souvenirs from trips you have taken over the years that you purchased particularly to place on your tree. They have personalities.
People who put their tree up two weeks before Christmas and the day after Thanksgiving take them down the day following Christmas, sometimes Christmas Day. That is the way they celebrate the holiday. The people, like myself, who put the tree up Christmas week or Christmas Eve leave it up until New Year’s or even Epiphany, January 6. That is why my tree, which is always natural, isn’t put up until Christmas. Some folks leave their trees up until Valentine’s Day or even later. Some wait until Easter. Of course, they have to be artificial trees. We realize mothers whose children bug them to put the tree up a month in advance and then proceed to wreck it almost before the holiday arrives want to take it down Christmas Day are exempt from all of this.
There are people who think Christmas is too commercial. They complain that stores put up their decorations too early. Perhaps they are right in many ways, but I think the poor economy has something to do with it this year.
Personally, I don’t care when a store starts decorating for Christmas as long as it isn’t the 4th of July. People don’t need to start their Christmas shopping until they are ready. However, I had a friend who always had her Christmas cards addressed and ready to send when the time came. She wrote them while sitting around her pool in July; it was one thing she could be ahead on. She purchased her cards after Christmas while they were on sale.
There are retirees who leave in the fall for their winter homes in Florida. They do their shopping during the summer before they leave and leave them behind to be distributed at Christmas. They save big on postage
I enjoy all the decorations that a store owner or homeowner puts forth; if we have the opportunity to enjoy them when there is still nice weather to get out, doesn’t it make it easier to appreciate them?
There are many senior citizens’ organizations who plan trips to New York City to view the shop windows and do some shopping. It’s why the stores do the trimming early and there are hours of time put forth to get those windows in the scenes and themes they do such a wonderful job on. Besides that is the time when we people take the time to make the trip before all of the hustle bustle of the times.
I like all of the bright colorful lights of Christmas – it’s the favorite time of year for a good many people and they show it. There is a kind of awe and wonder to a lighted Christmas tree. It gives me a warm happy feeling that tells me everything isn’t commercial. The Christmas tree is a symbol of love. I always get depressed and sad when the holiday season is over and everyone takes down their lights and decorations and it’s gloomy winter again.
Trees in homes generally do not look like trees in public places. Have you noticed this? The ones in the home have family ornaments and keepsakes on them. Homemade treasures handed down from year to year as well as ornaments with names and dates written on them. Souvenirs from trips you have taken over the years that you purchased particularly to place on your tree. They have personalities.
People who put their tree up two weeks before Christmas and the day after Thanksgiving take them down the day following Christmas, sometimes Christmas Day. That is the way they celebrate the holiday. The people, like myself, who put the tree up Christmas week or Christmas Eve leave it up until New Year’s or even Epiphany, January 6. That is why my tree, which is always natural, isn’t put up until Christmas. Some folks leave their trees up until Valentine’s Day or even later. Some wait until Easter. Of course, they have to be artificial trees. We realize mothers whose children bug them to put the tree up a month in advance and then proceed to wreck it almost before the holiday arrives want to take it down Christmas Day are exempt from all of this.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Advent upon us
This Sunday the holy season of Advent begins.
This past week I made my annual trip to purchase my candles for the Advent wreath.
Many will take advantage of the weather this weekend and put up their Christmas decorations.
Have you ever noticed that even at Halloween time the Christmas decorations are put out at many homes and are lighted until either the day after Christmas or New Year’s Day? Then there are those who don’t put decorations up until either the middle of December or the week of Christmas. Their trimmings are left up until 12th Night Epiphany when the Wise Men reached the stable where the Christ Child was born. Many leave their decorated trees up for weeks after that, especially those who have artificial trees. At our house the tree is real and generally goes up just a few days before Christmas and comes down after Epiphany and then there are plenty of needles to sweep up.
The Advent Wreath comes in many kinds. It can be a green artificial wreath, one you can purchase in most craft shops or department stores. They can also be wire that you can place greens on, wooden forms with greens, Styrofoam circles, many, many types. If the wreath is fresh and you have kept it, the greens might need either freshening up with a sprinkle of water, or if it has faded purchase a can of green spray paint and give it a few squirts. Some folks use different colored candles. I prefer the three purple, one pink for the fourth Sunday of Advent and the white Christmas Eve or Day candles for the middle of the wreath. If your wreath doesn’t have a center holder, take a glass holder and place in the center of the wreath.
Be very careful; watch it like a hawk while it’s burning because it can be a fire hazard, especially if there are little ones around.
There is something special about Advent which means waiting, preparation, for that holiest of days. We seem to get so caught up in all of our Christmas preparations. We tend to get so busy with meetings, exercises in school, plays, concerts, parties that along the way we almost forget the spiritual meaning of the Christmas season.
The Advent Calendar is another way of preparing for the holidays and is the one thing that is so meaningful for children. They can be purchased at many shops, especially religious stores. If you purchase the one that has the “doors” on certain days before Christmas and you have placed a small gift behind it, the children get so excited but also realize how many more days there are until that big holiday. There are those that can be kept from year to year to enjoy or there are the paper ones with the inexpensive gifts placed behind dates. Having this item in the home helps keep the kids toned down a bit during this festive season.
With just the few things going on and knowing that pace will quicken and get more hectic and frantic, is it any wonder that we must make ourselves stop at least each weekend for the wreath and days for the calendar and remember what the Advent season really means? Think about having either an Advent Wreath or Calendar at your house. It gives the children the real meaning of Christmas.
This past week I made my annual trip to purchase my candles for the Advent wreath.
Many will take advantage of the weather this weekend and put up their Christmas decorations.
Have you ever noticed that even at Halloween time the Christmas decorations are put out at many homes and are lighted until either the day after Christmas or New Year’s Day? Then there are those who don’t put decorations up until either the middle of December or the week of Christmas. Their trimmings are left up until 12th Night Epiphany when the Wise Men reached the stable where the Christ Child was born. Many leave their decorated trees up for weeks after that, especially those who have artificial trees. At our house the tree is real and generally goes up just a few days before Christmas and comes down after Epiphany and then there are plenty of needles to sweep up.
The Advent Wreath comes in many kinds. It can be a green artificial wreath, one you can purchase in most craft shops or department stores. They can also be wire that you can place greens on, wooden forms with greens, Styrofoam circles, many, many types. If the wreath is fresh and you have kept it, the greens might need either freshening up with a sprinkle of water, or if it has faded purchase a can of green spray paint and give it a few squirts. Some folks use different colored candles. I prefer the three purple, one pink for the fourth Sunday of Advent and the white Christmas Eve or Day candles for the middle of the wreath. If your wreath doesn’t have a center holder, take a glass holder and place in the center of the wreath.
Be very careful; watch it like a hawk while it’s burning because it can be a fire hazard, especially if there are little ones around.
There is something special about Advent which means waiting, preparation, for that holiest of days. We seem to get so caught up in all of our Christmas preparations. We tend to get so busy with meetings, exercises in school, plays, concerts, parties that along the way we almost forget the spiritual meaning of the Christmas season.
The Advent Calendar is another way of preparing for the holidays and is the one thing that is so meaningful for children. They can be purchased at many shops, especially religious stores. If you purchase the one that has the “doors” on certain days before Christmas and you have placed a small gift behind it, the children get so excited but also realize how many more days there are until that big holiday. There are those that can be kept from year to year to enjoy or there are the paper ones with the inexpensive gifts placed behind dates. Having this item in the home helps keep the kids toned down a bit during this festive season.
With just the few things going on and knowing that pace will quicken and get more hectic and frantic, is it any wonder that we must make ourselves stop at least each weekend for the wreath and days for the calendar and remember what the Advent season really means? Think about having either an Advent Wreath or Calendar at your house. It gives the children the real meaning of Christmas.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
My most memorable Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is just a week away.
The holiday has changed over the years.
Fewer and fewer families have persons who remember how Thanksgiving was celebrated before World War II.
I remember my family, along with my grandparents, would spend Thanksgiving at one of my great aunt’s home. There were quite people gathered, small children included. It seems that there was always so much food, so many more courses than today, but perhaps I’m wrong. At least it seemed so at the kids’ table as we waited for all the courses to be served so we could eat the special dessert with lots of sugar.
Usually an adult would be in charge of keeping us quiet and being sure we ate what was placed before us. But we had to stay at the table as long at the adults, who seemed to have lots of conversation going as they ate slowly, while we were eager to go outside to play with our cousins.
Back then table conversation was important and meaningful because there wasn’t football to watch; television hadn’t been invented yet. There was a radio in the house, but wasn’t protocol to have on while at the table. The discussions were boring and we would fidget hoping to leave the table soon.
On my most memorable Thanksgiving, the adults began discussing what the after-dinner activity should be.
One of the boys at the kids’ table started singing “Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go...” and was reprimanded for singing at the table. But, one of the younger adults at the grownup table stood up and continued singing the well-known Thanksgiving song.
Then it began. Most arose, and a huge chorus of men and women joined in and and we all headed for the parlor where the piano was. Fortunately there were several who could play and one song led to another and kids and all went through a repertoire of hymns, Christmas songs (“Up on the Housetop”) went over big and then on to singing rounds.
It seems as if the old and young had a common bond in the sing-along and the singing went on after dark and the women finally left to clean up the delicious meal all had enjoyed.
Can you imagine suggesting such entertainment today following a dinner on a holiday especially Thanksgiving or New Year’s? In some homes TV trays are used to enjoy the meal without missing a play in the football game. Would the younger folks even know some of the songs? How may families have a piano or even a piano or even someone who can play one these days? I’m not criticizing, I’m just stating facts.
However you celebrate, enjoy the holiday with your family.
Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!
The holiday has changed over the years.
Fewer and fewer families have persons who remember how Thanksgiving was celebrated before World War II.
I remember my family, along with my grandparents, would spend Thanksgiving at one of my great aunt’s home. There were quite people gathered, small children included. It seems that there was always so much food, so many more courses than today, but perhaps I’m wrong. At least it seemed so at the kids’ table as we waited for all the courses to be served so we could eat the special dessert with lots of sugar.
Usually an adult would be in charge of keeping us quiet and being sure we ate what was placed before us. But we had to stay at the table as long at the adults, who seemed to have lots of conversation going as they ate slowly, while we were eager to go outside to play with our cousins.
Back then table conversation was important and meaningful because there wasn’t football to watch; television hadn’t been invented yet. There was a radio in the house, but wasn’t protocol to have on while at the table. The discussions were boring and we would fidget hoping to leave the table soon.
On my most memorable Thanksgiving, the adults began discussing what the after-dinner activity should be.
One of the boys at the kids’ table started singing “Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go...” and was reprimanded for singing at the table. But, one of the younger adults at the grownup table stood up and continued singing the well-known Thanksgiving song.
Then it began. Most arose, and a huge chorus of men and women joined in and and we all headed for the parlor where the piano was. Fortunately there were several who could play and one song led to another and kids and all went through a repertoire of hymns, Christmas songs (“Up on the Housetop”) went over big and then on to singing rounds.
It seems as if the old and young had a common bond in the sing-along and the singing went on after dark and the women finally left to clean up the delicious meal all had enjoyed.
Can you imagine suggesting such entertainment today following a dinner on a holiday especially Thanksgiving or New Year’s? In some homes TV trays are used to enjoy the meal without missing a play in the football game. Would the younger folks even know some of the songs? How may families have a piano or even a piano or even someone who can play one these days? I’m not criticizing, I’m just stating facts.
However you celebrate, enjoy the holiday with your family.
Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Ready, set, shop
Many people shop on Black Friday the day after Thanksgiving to get themselves into the spirit of the holidays.
Many just HAVE to do it. I have friends who have their lists made, their alarm clocks set for four in the morning in order to get the head start on all of the bargains that are advertised. Some don’t want to buy the door-busters, they just want to be there when the doors open and they can rush with the other folks into the store. It seems to be in their blood.
I have a few pointers or advice on how I shop.
Start your list with names, color likes, sizes. Use a large sheet of paper, preferably colored, you can find it easier in your purse. Small pieces have a tendency to get lost or set aside and you don’t discover until you need it again. Jot down ideas opposite each name; try not to go shopping without something in mind.
Sizes can be easily obtained from grandmothers or mothers. They make a business of knowing all of the family members’ sizes, especially at this time of year.
If you are going shopping, rise early, eat a hearty breakfast and be there before the stores open. I have found that people gather an hour before the doors open, so if you are early you can park close to the entrance, making it easier to put your purchases in the trunk. That is if you are successful in obtaining what you planned to purchase. I try to do most of my shopping that one day, which means I’m there for the whole day. I always save my shopping bags from the various stores and use them the next time I plan to go shopping by taking several so that I don’t have to empty any when I take some to the car.
By arriving early you save time, too, because you find the stores are not crowded, you can easily grab a sales person. You won’t be standing in long lines at the cash register. If you can’t go shopping early, try shopping at weird times - many have learned as I have that the 4-7 p.m. hours are good, everyone is home to dinner at that time or just getting out of work. Saturday nights also seem to be a good time, when there doesn’t seem to be so many shopping. The stores that remain open all night are a possibility and also evenings on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday you seem to be able to find space to park. I guess those people are the ones that have shopped on Saturday and Sunday and are all tired out.
Have a special drawer at your house or a particular bag or box that is delegated for ALL receipts. I have the sales clerks put receipts in all of the bags I purchase and when I finally get around to remove the purchase, the receipt goes into the bag that I use for receipts; that way, when I’m asked by the person who might need it to exchange one of my gifts, I have it. That saves so much time and makes exchanges so much simpler. It seems there is always someone who needs a receipt.
Also, if you plan on shopping more than half a day, you will need something to put back from that early breakfast to replenish your energy. Remember to eat early, like shortly after 11 or 11:30 a.m. If you wait, you will never get anything to eat as the lines in the food court or restaurants are so long you can drop from hunger and lose an hour’s time of shopping.
Many just HAVE to do it. I have friends who have their lists made, their alarm clocks set for four in the morning in order to get the head start on all of the bargains that are advertised. Some don’t want to buy the door-busters, they just want to be there when the doors open and they can rush with the other folks into the store. It seems to be in their blood.
I have a few pointers or advice on how I shop.
Start your list with names, color likes, sizes. Use a large sheet of paper, preferably colored, you can find it easier in your purse. Small pieces have a tendency to get lost or set aside and you don’t discover until you need it again. Jot down ideas opposite each name; try not to go shopping without something in mind.
Sizes can be easily obtained from grandmothers or mothers. They make a business of knowing all of the family members’ sizes, especially at this time of year.
If you are going shopping, rise early, eat a hearty breakfast and be there before the stores open. I have found that people gather an hour before the doors open, so if you are early you can park close to the entrance, making it easier to put your purchases in the trunk. That is if you are successful in obtaining what you planned to purchase. I try to do most of my shopping that one day, which means I’m there for the whole day. I always save my shopping bags from the various stores and use them the next time I plan to go shopping by taking several so that I don’t have to empty any when I take some to the car.
By arriving early you save time, too, because you find the stores are not crowded, you can easily grab a sales person. You won’t be standing in long lines at the cash register. If you can’t go shopping early, try shopping at weird times - many have learned as I have that the 4-7 p.m. hours are good, everyone is home to dinner at that time or just getting out of work. Saturday nights also seem to be a good time, when there doesn’t seem to be so many shopping. The stores that remain open all night are a possibility and also evenings on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday you seem to be able to find space to park. I guess those people are the ones that have shopped on Saturday and Sunday and are all tired out.
Have a special drawer at your house or a particular bag or box that is delegated for ALL receipts. I have the sales clerks put receipts in all of the bags I purchase and when I finally get around to remove the purchase, the receipt goes into the bag that I use for receipts; that way, when I’m asked by the person who might need it to exchange one of my gifts, I have it. That saves so much time and makes exchanges so much simpler. It seems there is always someone who needs a receipt.
Also, if you plan on shopping more than half a day, you will need something to put back from that early breakfast to replenish your energy. Remember to eat early, like shortly after 11 or 11:30 a.m. If you wait, you will never get anything to eat as the lines in the food court or restaurants are so long you can drop from hunger and lose an hour’s time of shopping.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Make your heirlooms
This is the time of year when you start
getting out the “holiday things.” Getting a step ahead of the busy
season perhaps you start washing up the good china, the turkey platter,
the good silverware that might need a going over with the polishing
cloth.
Some of the china was new to you when you started keeping house, and some might be hand-me-downs going back generations. These heirlooms will be passed along to the next generation.
Some of those without heirlooms are manufacturing their own and shopping garage sales for someone else’s antique items. We’ve mentioned before old time photos of ancestors are turning up on living room and den walls. Some of these ancestors belong to the family, while others have been purchased at auctions or garage sales and “claimed” as ancestors. Who would question if that was Grandfather or Uncle Ned?
How often have you gone through your own photo albums that were put together by one of your relatives, but never identified who the folks in the pictures were? Aren’t we all to blame for this? Printed snapshots are becoming extinct anyway. Now with telephones that take pictures to be viewed on your computer, you don’t need the expense of having them printed.
It’s called modern technology and it’s great.
But to those who don’t want phony photos, there are other ways of having heirlooms. You can hand-craft your own and pass them along. Quilting has become popular and almost everyone who can thread a needle can do it. There groups that meet each week to quilt. In one community there is a circle of ladies who making lap robes for elderly people in hospitals, assisted living residents and nursing homes. Some are called prayer quilt robes that are accompanied by a card with a prayer on it. What a thoughtful gesture.
The patterns of some of the quilts have been handed down from generation to generation and while the material may be new, the pattern is an heirloom. There is plenty of time if you start now to create your own quilt for Christmas gift giving to your son or daughter or favorite niece. You can also stitch one up for your bedspread. There are all kinds of calico now available to make replicas of granny’s quilt.
For the men who might want to pass along heirlooms of their own and don’t sew and are handy with carpenter tools, there are patterns of the olden toys to make complete with kits to supply wheels, and other parts to toys used by boys in the 1890s.
They are reproductions, but in 25 years they will be the beginnings of an heirloom if the gift is given to one who plays with it carefully so it can be kept to become an heirloom.
I have given wooden toys that I purchased at craft shows to my small boys that are relatives, and while they show some wear and tear that is expected, they are now 25 and 30 years old and are sitting on shelves in their bedrooms and will one day be given to their children to either play with or put on display as show pieces.
Some of the china was new to you when you started keeping house, and some might be hand-me-downs going back generations. These heirlooms will be passed along to the next generation.
Some of those without heirlooms are manufacturing their own and shopping garage sales for someone else’s antique items. We’ve mentioned before old time photos of ancestors are turning up on living room and den walls. Some of these ancestors belong to the family, while others have been purchased at auctions or garage sales and “claimed” as ancestors. Who would question if that was Grandfather or Uncle Ned?
How often have you gone through your own photo albums that were put together by one of your relatives, but never identified who the folks in the pictures were? Aren’t we all to blame for this? Printed snapshots are becoming extinct anyway. Now with telephones that take pictures to be viewed on your computer, you don’t need the expense of having them printed.
It’s called modern technology and it’s great.
But to those who don’t want phony photos, there are other ways of having heirlooms. You can hand-craft your own and pass them along. Quilting has become popular and almost everyone who can thread a needle can do it. There groups that meet each week to quilt. In one community there is a circle of ladies who making lap robes for elderly people in hospitals, assisted living residents and nursing homes. Some are called prayer quilt robes that are accompanied by a card with a prayer on it. What a thoughtful gesture.
The patterns of some of the quilts have been handed down from generation to generation and while the material may be new, the pattern is an heirloom. There is plenty of time if you start now to create your own quilt for Christmas gift giving to your son or daughter or favorite niece. You can also stitch one up for your bedspread. There are all kinds of calico now available to make replicas of granny’s quilt.
For the men who might want to pass along heirlooms of their own and don’t sew and are handy with carpenter tools, there are patterns of the olden toys to make complete with kits to supply wheels, and other parts to toys used by boys in the 1890s.
They are reproductions, but in 25 years they will be the beginnings of an heirloom if the gift is given to one who plays with it carefully so it can be kept to become an heirloom.
I have given wooden toys that I purchased at craft shows to my small boys that are relatives, and while they show some wear and tear that is expected, they are now 25 and 30 years old and are sitting on shelves in their bedrooms and will one day be given to their children to either play with or put on display as show pieces.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dusting memories
While doing the dusting (a chore I will
never enjoy), I began thinking about dusting my grandparents’ living
room when I was young.
Grandma would put us girls to work doing something to use up all of our energy that was getting on her nerves, I think.
In the middle of my grandparents’ living room stood a long table; it had a drawer in it and a shelf on the bottom. The large legs had rounded feet. There was a lot to dust on that table.
It was what you might call their “entertainment center.”
The drawers had fancy pulls and, as I remember, it contained a magnifying glass, pencils and some writing paper.
It held a stereograph in which you put heavy cardboard photo pairs. You’d slide handle to focus the pictures and make them look three-dimensional. There was a whole box of pictures.
We weren’t allowed to use it unless an adult was with us.
The shelf at the bottom was always left clean for dusting, I suppose. The top of the table had an ecru scarf that went the whole length of the table with crocheted edging and a wide hem from which tassels hung, some of Grandma’s handiwork. There was a matching on top of the piano in the corner of the living room.
A Tiffany-type lamp sat in the middle of the table and when you wanted to work at the table and needed room it could be moved to one side, but grandma used it in the evening when she would sit in her rocker side of the table and with the help of the lamp do her sewing, needlework, mending or sometimes would read.
There was also a hanging lamp in the ceiling that had three bulbs with glass shades that if needed could be turned on for more light.
Grandfather sat on the other side of the table next to the radio, which was against the wall. It was a Stromberg Carlson, if I remember correctly. It sat on tall legs in a wood cabinet which was either walnut or mahogany with ornate wooden decorations. The radio was only turned on when Grandpa turned it on and that was only to listen to the news, a news commentator H.V. Kaltenborn and the singing cowboy Montana Slim.
The radio took electricity and in those days (Grandpa lived through the Depression) you didn’t use electricity except when necessary and limited enjoyment. As in most homes in those days hanging over the radio was a large photograph of Grandpa’s father. Many homes had pictures of their parents and families decorating the living room walls back then.
After the news he would read the daily newspaper and occasionally a few pages of the Reader’s Digest, one of his Christmas gifts along with National Geographic. Children weren’t always allowed to look at that magazine if it had articles from Africa or other eastern countries with pictures of the people in their native dress which sometimes was very limited.
All this came back to me while doing one of the tasks I don’t enjoy, which made the task go quicker.
Grandma would put us girls to work doing something to use up all of our energy that was getting on her nerves, I think.
In the middle of my grandparents’ living room stood a long table; it had a drawer in it and a shelf on the bottom. The large legs had rounded feet. There was a lot to dust on that table.
It was what you might call their “entertainment center.”
The drawers had fancy pulls and, as I remember, it contained a magnifying glass, pencils and some writing paper.
It held a stereograph in which you put heavy cardboard photo pairs. You’d slide handle to focus the pictures and make them look three-dimensional. There was a whole box of pictures.
We weren’t allowed to use it unless an adult was with us.
The shelf at the bottom was always left clean for dusting, I suppose. The top of the table had an ecru scarf that went the whole length of the table with crocheted edging and a wide hem from which tassels hung, some of Grandma’s handiwork. There was a matching on top of the piano in the corner of the living room.
A Tiffany-type lamp sat in the middle of the table and when you wanted to work at the table and needed room it could be moved to one side, but grandma used it in the evening when she would sit in her rocker side of the table and with the help of the lamp do her sewing, needlework, mending or sometimes would read.
There was also a hanging lamp in the ceiling that had three bulbs with glass shades that if needed could be turned on for more light.
Grandfather sat on the other side of the table next to the radio, which was against the wall. It was a Stromberg Carlson, if I remember correctly. It sat on tall legs in a wood cabinet which was either walnut or mahogany with ornate wooden decorations. The radio was only turned on when Grandpa turned it on and that was only to listen to the news, a news commentator H.V. Kaltenborn and the singing cowboy Montana Slim.
The radio took electricity and in those days (Grandpa lived through the Depression) you didn’t use electricity except when necessary and limited enjoyment. As in most homes in those days hanging over the radio was a large photograph of Grandpa’s father. Many homes had pictures of their parents and families decorating the living room walls back then.
After the news he would read the daily newspaper and occasionally a few pages of the Reader’s Digest, one of his Christmas gifts along with National Geographic. Children weren’t always allowed to look at that magazine if it had articles from Africa or other eastern countries with pictures of the people in their native dress which sometimes was very limited.
All this came back to me while doing one of the tasks I don’t enjoy, which made the task go quicker.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Autumn is awesome
Autumn is awesome!
There are pumpkins on the side of the road for jack-o-lanterns or pies. There are squash of so many varieties, along with gourds for decorating, corn shocks, potatoes, cabbage, rutabagas and all of the fall vegetables harvested and ready for eating. Fall is here and the growing season is just about over.
This is the time for a trip into the hills to enjoy the scenic beauty.
Gone are the days when you could drive out into the country and find corn shocks the farmers would gladly give you. They are no longer stacked into bundles in the field and now they are being offered for sale if you want them for decorating your house on Halloween. Times change, the stalks are chopped or cut in the field and taken out in wagons for storage.
You can now take the kids and go off to the apple orchard for your supply of apples. It’s a great family adventure especially for the younger kids to get a ride on the apple wagon towed by the tractor to the orchard to pick your own apples. And this is also a great treat for the kids to go to the pumpkin field to pick out their own pumpkin to take home and carve. Taking the children to these places is a learning experience, one they won’t forget.
You know what is also great? When you visit one of these outdoor trips you pack a lunch for a “late” summer picnic. There are so many places along the roads for you to stop for picnics. The rolling hills on Route 20 have drive-off areas with tables if you don’t want to “rough” it and spread a blanket for your lunch. The fall is a great time for a last summer picnic. If you have been to the apple orchard and if they have a cider mill you might be able to have apple cider for your beverage.
Another family outing is to go “nutting.” If you know where there are nut trees growing or have friends or family who can direct you to places where gathering nuts is fun. There are trees growing along roads and for all outward appearances belonged to those who wish to gather them. We used to and then spread them in the upper story of our barn to dry. Many a cold winter’s night we spent in the kitchen while my poppa cracked them on a brick held between his knees and we kids and Mom picked the meat out of the shell and put them in glass jars for cookies, cakes, frosting and fudge.
Group of us gals who were into Scouts, 4-H or just had hobbies and gathered wildflowers and weeds to dry and then either painted for the holidays or shellac the naturals and used in our children groups to make gifts for the holidays. Kids loved to make their own creations for their family and relatives. Budgets were small and the materials were free for the gathering.
Yes, fall is awesome. The days are crisp, sunshiny and cool. The football games bring out all those people you haven’t seen all summer. There are tailgate parties at some of the games and you get to visit with people you haven’t seen since last fall’s football games, and it makes you have a good feeling. “To everything there is a season” and autumn is just one. It is one of the beautiful times.
There are pumpkins on the side of the road for jack-o-lanterns or pies. There are squash of so many varieties, along with gourds for decorating, corn shocks, potatoes, cabbage, rutabagas and all of the fall vegetables harvested and ready for eating. Fall is here and the growing season is just about over.
This is the time for a trip into the hills to enjoy the scenic beauty.
Gone are the days when you could drive out into the country and find corn shocks the farmers would gladly give you. They are no longer stacked into bundles in the field and now they are being offered for sale if you want them for decorating your house on Halloween. Times change, the stalks are chopped or cut in the field and taken out in wagons for storage.
You can now take the kids and go off to the apple orchard for your supply of apples. It’s a great family adventure especially for the younger kids to get a ride on the apple wagon towed by the tractor to the orchard to pick your own apples. And this is also a great treat for the kids to go to the pumpkin field to pick out their own pumpkin to take home and carve. Taking the children to these places is a learning experience, one they won’t forget.
You know what is also great? When you visit one of these outdoor trips you pack a lunch for a “late” summer picnic. There are so many places along the roads for you to stop for picnics. The rolling hills on Route 20 have drive-off areas with tables if you don’t want to “rough” it and spread a blanket for your lunch. The fall is a great time for a last summer picnic. If you have been to the apple orchard and if they have a cider mill you might be able to have apple cider for your beverage.
Another family outing is to go “nutting.” If you know where there are nut trees growing or have friends or family who can direct you to places where gathering nuts is fun. There are trees growing along roads and for all outward appearances belonged to those who wish to gather them. We used to and then spread them in the upper story of our barn to dry. Many a cold winter’s night we spent in the kitchen while my poppa cracked them on a brick held between his knees and we kids and Mom picked the meat out of the shell and put them in glass jars for cookies, cakes, frosting and fudge.
Group of us gals who were into Scouts, 4-H or just had hobbies and gathered wildflowers and weeds to dry and then either painted for the holidays or shellac the naturals and used in our children groups to make gifts for the holidays. Kids loved to make their own creations for their family and relatives. Budgets were small and the materials were free for the gathering.
Yes, fall is awesome. The days are crisp, sunshiny and cool. The football games bring out all those people you haven’t seen all summer. There are tailgate parties at some of the games and you get to visit with people you haven’t seen since last fall’s football games, and it makes you have a good feeling. “To everything there is a season” and autumn is just one. It is one of the beautiful times.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Cookies certainly were good
Did you have a favorite food you can’t buy anymore?
At dinner the other night we discussed “can’t find” foods - things that aren’t on the shelves anymore. The manager will explain that if it isn’t in the warehouse it just isn’t available in the store. If the tab marking the place on the shelf is gone, then it isn’t available.
For instance, does anyone remember Mary Ann cookies? They were soft, rectangular cookies that tasted something like molasses cookies but they were different.
After school I looked looked forward to a glass of milk and a Mary Ann. We bought them from a box in the grocery store you could open and take out how many you wanted. When this display became outmoded the cookies came packaged with the other desserts.
Store-bought cookies were a treat because generally the only ones at our house were homemade. In the boxes there was a marshmallow one with coconut on the top and there was a cartwheel that was similar to the Mary Ann.
There were also Fig Newtons which is one of the cookies you can still purchase today but there isn’t the flavor that was there in the ones that came in the boxes with the glass doors. Today you can also purchase these cookies with apple, strawberry Newtons which the children seem to care for more than the fig. We’ve concluded the reason they don’t taste the same as in the good old days is because they are now fortified with all the preservatives to make them last so much longer on the grocery shelf.
And did you ever look at the ingredients in what cookie you are nibbling on? Is it any wonder they taste more like a piece of cardboard sometimes than a cookie? Or is it my imagination?
What about the penny candy? We know we couldn’t buy it for a penny, but it isn’t even available for a nickel or dime. There was the Necco wafers and tubes of brown Hershey kisses.There were the watermelon slices that tasted like coconut. The licorice pipes that were hard and chewy and the banana peanuts that were soooo good. These are still available, but the other penny candy doesn’t seem to be.
I can remember going into a store that had in its front window a shelf with all of the penny candy displayed. If you had a nickel or sometimes a dime (which was almost never) the store owner would have a small brown paper sack and you could pick out enough candy with the nickel to half fill the paper bag. If you were careful the bag could last you a week if you spaced it out.
You can still find some of this candy, if you go to a store that specializes in it. They have candy like those days. You can still buy some of it through catalogs. It costs much more than a penny and the postage costs more than a large sack of candy, so it isn’t cheap.
But isn’t it fun to look at the items and remember what we could buy for just a penny?
At dinner the other night we discussed “can’t find” foods - things that aren’t on the shelves anymore. The manager will explain that if it isn’t in the warehouse it just isn’t available in the store. If the tab marking the place on the shelf is gone, then it isn’t available.
For instance, does anyone remember Mary Ann cookies? They were soft, rectangular cookies that tasted something like molasses cookies but they were different.
After school I looked looked forward to a glass of milk and a Mary Ann. We bought them from a box in the grocery store you could open and take out how many you wanted. When this display became outmoded the cookies came packaged with the other desserts.
Store-bought cookies were a treat because generally the only ones at our house were homemade. In the boxes there was a marshmallow one with coconut on the top and there was a cartwheel that was similar to the Mary Ann.
There were also Fig Newtons which is one of the cookies you can still purchase today but there isn’t the flavor that was there in the ones that came in the boxes with the glass doors. Today you can also purchase these cookies with apple, strawberry Newtons which the children seem to care for more than the fig. We’ve concluded the reason they don’t taste the same as in the good old days is because they are now fortified with all the preservatives to make them last so much longer on the grocery shelf.
And did you ever look at the ingredients in what cookie you are nibbling on? Is it any wonder they taste more like a piece of cardboard sometimes than a cookie? Or is it my imagination?
What about the penny candy? We know we couldn’t buy it for a penny, but it isn’t even available for a nickel or dime. There was the Necco wafers and tubes of brown Hershey kisses.There were the watermelon slices that tasted like coconut. The licorice pipes that were hard and chewy and the banana peanuts that were soooo good. These are still available, but the other penny candy doesn’t seem to be.
I can remember going into a store that had in its front window a shelf with all of the penny candy displayed. If you had a nickel or sometimes a dime (which was almost never) the store owner would have a small brown paper sack and you could pick out enough candy with the nickel to half fill the paper bag. If you were careful the bag could last you a week if you spaced it out.
You can still find some of this candy, if you go to a store that specializes in it. They have candy like those days. You can still buy some of it through catalogs. It costs much more than a penny and the postage costs more than a large sack of candy, so it isn’t cheap.
But isn’t it fun to look at the items and remember what we could buy for just a penny?
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Seasons changing again
Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that the days are getting shorter.
It was light at 9 p.m. it seems such a short time ago and now as 7 o’clock rolls around it starts to get dusk and each and every day the weather person keeps telling us how many minutes there are in daylight and each day it shortens by a minute. I don’t know about you, but I would just as soon not know.
It seems as if the sooner it gets dark, the less active we become.
Summer evenings find me out doing things that I can’t when it gets dark so early.
You can get the lawn mowed, work in your garden, do a little repair work to the house perhaps, you often see folks taking bike rides, the whole family enjoying the time together after a workday.
When the daylight saving time leaves you - there are no light hours after you get home from work.
Then the chores outside that have to be done are left until Saturday or the entire weekend.
I tend to go shopping after the supper hour when it is still daylight and I come home before dark.
When you get home from work and it’s dark then, it is cold, might be storming, icy roads, do you find that you like to hibernate?
It’s too much bother to get dressed to go out again, heavy coat, scarf, hat, boots and gloves. I tend to stay in the house even on sunny days, it’s too cold outside to travel.
Move to a warmer climate? Getting older and can’t take the cold?
I find that I was like that right out of high school, so it isn’t age.
Talk to one of your teenage friends. They aren’t that crazy about the cold either, unless they ski, snowmobile, snowboard or ice fish.
I like New York state, so I just clench my chattering teeth and bear it. I try to put all of my list of things together and make one trip to get them all done so I don’t have to go out again real soon.
And that makes me happy because I don’t have to put on all of those winter togs so often. I’m semi-retired so I don’t have to go out every day.
I do, however, have to bundle up and go out to clean the snow off the porches and sidewalk, unless my good neighbor gets to it before I do. He has a snowblower, I only have a shovel. .
The summer was hot, but I’m not complaining. I love the warm weather especially if it isn’t humid.
One of my California friends who was here recently complained about the humidity.
Where she lives there are hardly ever humid days. Not so in Florida!
You can enjoy the warm weather outside and go into the air conditioning and enjoy the cool temperature.
Most people would say you can have the same in the winter only in reverse - but when the thermometer drops near zero somehow it just isn’t quite the same with me as when the temperature is climbing to 90 degrees.
That’s life - everyone can’t be pleased and we certainly can’t control the weather.
It was light at 9 p.m. it seems such a short time ago and now as 7 o’clock rolls around it starts to get dusk and each and every day the weather person keeps telling us how many minutes there are in daylight and each day it shortens by a minute. I don’t know about you, but I would just as soon not know.
It seems as if the sooner it gets dark, the less active we become.
Summer evenings find me out doing things that I can’t when it gets dark so early.
You can get the lawn mowed, work in your garden, do a little repair work to the house perhaps, you often see folks taking bike rides, the whole family enjoying the time together after a workday.
When the daylight saving time leaves you - there are no light hours after you get home from work.
Then the chores outside that have to be done are left until Saturday or the entire weekend.
I tend to go shopping after the supper hour when it is still daylight and I come home before dark.
When you get home from work and it’s dark then, it is cold, might be storming, icy roads, do you find that you like to hibernate?
It’s too much bother to get dressed to go out again, heavy coat, scarf, hat, boots and gloves. I tend to stay in the house even on sunny days, it’s too cold outside to travel.
Move to a warmer climate? Getting older and can’t take the cold?
I find that I was like that right out of high school, so it isn’t age.
Talk to one of your teenage friends. They aren’t that crazy about the cold either, unless they ski, snowmobile, snowboard or ice fish.
I like New York state, so I just clench my chattering teeth and bear it. I try to put all of my list of things together and make one trip to get them all done so I don’t have to go out again real soon.
And that makes me happy because I don’t have to put on all of those winter togs so often. I’m semi-retired so I don’t have to go out every day.
I do, however, have to bundle up and go out to clean the snow off the porches and sidewalk, unless my good neighbor gets to it before I do. He has a snowblower, I only have a shovel. .
The summer was hot, but I’m not complaining. I love the warm weather especially if it isn’t humid.
One of my California friends who was here recently complained about the humidity.
Where she lives there are hardly ever humid days. Not so in Florida!
You can enjoy the warm weather outside and go into the air conditioning and enjoy the cool temperature.
Most people would say you can have the same in the winter only in reverse - but when the thermometer drops near zero somehow it just isn’t quite the same with me as when the temperature is climbing to 90 degrees.
That’s life - everyone can’t be pleased and we certainly can’t control the weather.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Water woes
By Carol Weimer
Canastota Corner
It seems so many are water conscious these days. Either folks have too much and they are bailing it out of the cellars or the plants and fields are drying up and people are bringing water to their homes by truck or tank.
This summer as well as last in 2010, we had a spell of drought and ponds and pools were getting dangerously low. This year was almost as bad and many folks who had vegetable and flower gardens were watering them each evening to keep them healthy.
Scientists say we are in drought times, but many of us are inclined not to take these people too seriously.
Nevertheless, when we do have dry spells we realize they just may be right and get a taste of what it would be like if it really happened. This always makes us more frugal with our water supply, trying to see just how much we can save or how long we can get along with a short supply. It is with this in mind that we pass along the following.
Just how much water does a steak dinner cost, anyhow? Of all the water used in the United States, about 6 percent is for residential purposes, 14 percent for industrial use, and a whopping 80 percent for agricultural consumption.
In perspective, here’s what it costs, in terms of gallons of water, to produce a typical American meal:
An eight-ounce baked potato “costs” about 12 gallons of water. Put a single pat of butter on it and you’ve “spent” another 100 gallons. If you’re having chicken, add 408 gallons, plus 18 gallons for green beans, and six gallons for salad, not counting dressing. Dinner rolls at 26 gallons and another 100 gallon pat of butter come up to a grand total of 670 gallons of water for the entire meal.
A meal cheaper in price sometimes costs more in water. For instance, a quarter-pound hamburger, bun, fries and a Coke will cost 1,427 gallons of water — used to manufacture and distribute the packaging materials involved.
However, if you want to go first class and order steak instead of chicken or hamburger, well, one steak costs about 2,607 gallons of our precious water for every single steak serving.
Why am I telling you all of this? The above facts were gathered sometime in the 1980s excerpted from an article by a U.S. Representative from California and published in the Professional Nutritionist.
Something to boggle the mind or just set it to thinking. If it was to set us to thinking way back then, one wonders what percentage of water we use today, some 20 to 25 years now?
Back in the days when folks’ water came from wells — as it does also in many country homes today — water appreciation was one of the things they had to keep in mind. When there is a drought or shortage of water, they are the ones who have to be mindful sooner than those who are on the water lines who receive their water from water authorities.
On the farm, grandmother used to throw her dish water out the back door off the porch steps where her flowers grew and her garden was always a beauty to be seen. Families don’t take as many showers each day, the family car doesn’t get as many baths. In today’s family, there are generally more than one car, and sometimes as many as four or five, depending on how many children are now old enough to drive and have their license. Well owners sometimes have to frequent the laundromat instead of doing the wash at home, trying to save on use of water.
We are a nation that doesn’t much pay attention to the use of our commodities until we either find a shortage or in the case of gasoline, the price per gallon and sometimes that doesn’t even cause us to conserve.
Canastota Corner
It seems so many are water conscious these days. Either folks have too much and they are bailing it out of the cellars or the plants and fields are drying up and people are bringing water to their homes by truck or tank.
This summer as well as last in 2010, we had a spell of drought and ponds and pools were getting dangerously low. This year was almost as bad and many folks who had vegetable and flower gardens were watering them each evening to keep them healthy.
Scientists say we are in drought times, but many of us are inclined not to take these people too seriously.
Nevertheless, when we do have dry spells we realize they just may be right and get a taste of what it would be like if it really happened. This always makes us more frugal with our water supply, trying to see just how much we can save or how long we can get along with a short supply. It is with this in mind that we pass along the following.
Just how much water does a steak dinner cost, anyhow? Of all the water used in the United States, about 6 percent is for residential purposes, 14 percent for industrial use, and a whopping 80 percent for agricultural consumption.
In perspective, here’s what it costs, in terms of gallons of water, to produce a typical American meal:
An eight-ounce baked potato “costs” about 12 gallons of water. Put a single pat of butter on it and you’ve “spent” another 100 gallons. If you’re having chicken, add 408 gallons, plus 18 gallons for green beans, and six gallons for salad, not counting dressing. Dinner rolls at 26 gallons and another 100 gallon pat of butter come up to a grand total of 670 gallons of water for the entire meal.
A meal cheaper in price sometimes costs more in water. For instance, a quarter-pound hamburger, bun, fries and a Coke will cost 1,427 gallons of water — used to manufacture and distribute the packaging materials involved.
However, if you want to go first class and order steak instead of chicken or hamburger, well, one steak costs about 2,607 gallons of our precious water for every single steak serving.
Why am I telling you all of this? The above facts were gathered sometime in the 1980s excerpted from an article by a U.S. Representative from California and published in the Professional Nutritionist.
Something to boggle the mind or just set it to thinking. If it was to set us to thinking way back then, one wonders what percentage of water we use today, some 20 to 25 years now?
Back in the days when folks’ water came from wells — as it does also in many country homes today — water appreciation was one of the things they had to keep in mind. When there is a drought or shortage of water, they are the ones who have to be mindful sooner than those who are on the water lines who receive their water from water authorities.
On the farm, grandmother used to throw her dish water out the back door off the porch steps where her flowers grew and her garden was always a beauty to be seen. Families don’t take as many showers each day, the family car doesn’t get as many baths. In today’s family, there are generally more than one car, and sometimes as many as four or five, depending on how many children are now old enough to drive and have their license. Well owners sometimes have to frequent the laundromat instead of doing the wash at home, trying to save on use of water.
We are a nation that doesn’t much pay attention to the use of our commodities until we either find a shortage or in the case of gasoline, the price per gallon and sometimes that doesn’t even cause us to conserve.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Stairway full of memories
I bought a broom the other day, we really needed it.
Generally, the old one goes on our back porch to be used for the porch, steps and cleaning the grass off of the sidewalk after mowing.
Where do you keep your kitchen broom or vacuum? You may be fortunate and have a broom closet.
We don’t, so it hangs on the wall of the cellar stairs.
When I got the new broom home, I realized the handle wasn’t wooden like all of the others we have had.
To hang it I always drilled a hole in the top of the handle, strung wire through it and it was ready to hang.
It’s important that a broom hangs rather than just standing on the floor, because that ruins the the bristles. I tried using my electric drill on the plastic handle, and it just slipped right off.
Frustration. I called my cousin to help me.
The cellarway has a whole story of items that have at one time been used for every day, others that still are used. and those that hung there and still do because of all the memories connected with them.
For instance there is the wooden stool that we placed at the backdoor window so our Siamese cat could look out on winter days when it was too cold to go outside. She would sit there for hours watching birds and squirrels.
There is a tennis racket we use if a bird or bat gets into the house and my straw beach hat that I wore on the muck when topping onions and now in the garden when the sun is really hot.
There is my dad’s hat he always hung when he came into the house.
No reason to eliminate it just because he is gone. Sentimental, yes.
There’s a pancake griddle we use when there is company and we need a large one.
There is an assortment of pans and tubs.
Grandma used to soak her feet; we now use it to soak clothes that need special attention before going into the washer.
A shelf holds a scale for weighing veggies or fruit when we’re canning and a brown jug we used to fill with molasses from a barrel in the store.
A wooden cupboard above the shelf has a door with a porcelain knob.
It was built for an unusual reason.
If you read my columns you have read my mention of old houses that have nooks and crannies that are intriguing to me.
This cupboard was built solely to cover the chimney and there is no room for anything inside.
Look around your own house with fresh eyes.
It’s amazing what you encounter every day and don’t really “see” until you think about it or actually “look” at it.
Generally, the old one goes on our back porch to be used for the porch, steps and cleaning the grass off of the sidewalk after mowing.
Where do you keep your kitchen broom or vacuum? You may be fortunate and have a broom closet.
We don’t, so it hangs on the wall of the cellar stairs.
When I got the new broom home, I realized the handle wasn’t wooden like all of the others we have had.
To hang it I always drilled a hole in the top of the handle, strung wire through it and it was ready to hang.
It’s important that a broom hangs rather than just standing on the floor, because that ruins the the bristles. I tried using my electric drill on the plastic handle, and it just slipped right off.
Frustration. I called my cousin to help me.
The cellarway has a whole story of items that have at one time been used for every day, others that still are used. and those that hung there and still do because of all the memories connected with them.
For instance there is the wooden stool that we placed at the backdoor window so our Siamese cat could look out on winter days when it was too cold to go outside. She would sit there for hours watching birds and squirrels.
There is a tennis racket we use if a bird or bat gets into the house and my straw beach hat that I wore on the muck when topping onions and now in the garden when the sun is really hot.
There is my dad’s hat he always hung when he came into the house.
No reason to eliminate it just because he is gone. Sentimental, yes.
There’s a pancake griddle we use when there is company and we need a large one.
There is an assortment of pans and tubs.
Grandma used to soak her feet; we now use it to soak clothes that need special attention before going into the washer.
A shelf holds a scale for weighing veggies or fruit when we’re canning and a brown jug we used to fill with molasses from a barrel in the store.
A wooden cupboard above the shelf has a door with a porcelain knob.
It was built for an unusual reason.
If you read my columns you have read my mention of old houses that have nooks and crannies that are intriguing to me.
This cupboard was built solely to cover the chimney and there is no room for anything inside.
Look around your own house with fresh eyes.
It’s amazing what you encounter every day and don’t really “see” until you think about it or actually “look” at it.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I love my old house
The old house received another coat of paint this summer and I wondered to myself when it was being put on how many times the house had been painted.
The color has remained the same since I was just a little girl old enough to remember the color.
At one time perhaps 70 or 80 years ago when my dad first purchased the house it must have been painted yellow because every so often if the paint is scraped down to the bare wood you see yellow.
Today so many homes have siding that doesn’t need painting for many years, if at all.
I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was going to paint the ceiling of our front porch, which I haven’t done yet.
I still plan on doing it, but in the past several weeks I have been painting in other places.
When you live in an old house there is always something to do, those little fix-ups, paint-ups that go on from one year to the next in different places.
Our back porch is the one we sit on the most. One side of the porch needed replacing as the panels and front were decayed.
Fortunately I have a cousin, who is retired and is handy in woodworking. I encouraged him to fix my porch with the idea that I would paint his new woodwork.
I figured it was a good time to repaint the floor. I love to paint, so for some of these weeks
I have kept busy doing something I like.
However, when you paint a floor, you want to make it known that there is wet paint there. I paint with oil-based paint which dried much slower than water-based paint.
Folks arriving at the house were met with a sawhorse across the steps with a “fresh paint” sign applied to it. Other times I have used two bushel crates with a board across informing those who approach to use another entrance.
If you are a homeowner and you enjoy doing these little tasks, isn’t there a big satisfaction when you have completed your job?
Have you ever completed a job where you painted perhaps a floor and then had someone mistakenly walk on it while not entirely dry? Have you ever noticed when masons are putting in a new sidewalk, wall or whatever, someone couldn’t resist the temptation to write a name or maybe the date in the wet concrete?
On 5/23/53, I couldn’t resist when my dad was putting in a pair of steps. It was covered over with grass and forgotten until it was uncovered by a weedeater and brought back memories.
Dated, painted, scratched or engraved on so many things in a house are long-forgotten sometimes until someone discovers them.
Old houses have many interesting mysteries you may find when you acquire property.
Sometimes little doors that were built-in to get to plumbing fixtures, a hole in the wall or cut-out that you cannot fathom why it was placed in that particular spot and there is no one to ask about it. Sometimes “things” that were left in the attic that you acquire and wonder about.
Old houses can sure be interesting.
The color has remained the same since I was just a little girl old enough to remember the color.
At one time perhaps 70 or 80 years ago when my dad first purchased the house it must have been painted yellow because every so often if the paint is scraped down to the bare wood you see yellow.
Today so many homes have siding that doesn’t need painting for many years, if at all.
I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was going to paint the ceiling of our front porch, which I haven’t done yet.
I still plan on doing it, but in the past several weeks I have been painting in other places.
When you live in an old house there is always something to do, those little fix-ups, paint-ups that go on from one year to the next in different places.
Our back porch is the one we sit on the most. One side of the porch needed replacing as the panels and front were decayed.
Fortunately I have a cousin, who is retired and is handy in woodworking. I encouraged him to fix my porch with the idea that I would paint his new woodwork.
I figured it was a good time to repaint the floor. I love to paint, so for some of these weeks
I have kept busy doing something I like.
However, when you paint a floor, you want to make it known that there is wet paint there. I paint with oil-based paint which dried much slower than water-based paint.
Folks arriving at the house were met with a sawhorse across the steps with a “fresh paint” sign applied to it. Other times I have used two bushel crates with a board across informing those who approach to use another entrance.
If you are a homeowner and you enjoy doing these little tasks, isn’t there a big satisfaction when you have completed your job?
Have you ever completed a job where you painted perhaps a floor and then had someone mistakenly walk on it while not entirely dry? Have you ever noticed when masons are putting in a new sidewalk, wall or whatever, someone couldn’t resist the temptation to write a name or maybe the date in the wet concrete?
On 5/23/53, I couldn’t resist when my dad was putting in a pair of steps. It was covered over with grass and forgotten until it was uncovered by a weedeater and brought back memories.
Dated, painted, scratched or engraved on so many things in a house are long-forgotten sometimes until someone discovers them.
Old houses have many interesting mysteries you may find when you acquire property.
Sometimes little doors that were built-in to get to plumbing fixtures, a hole in the wall or cut-out that you cannot fathom why it was placed in that particular spot and there is no one to ask about it. Sometimes “things” that were left in the attic that you acquire and wonder about.
Old houses can sure be interesting.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Wheel hoe useful tool in garden
Everything old is new again. I’m speaking of my Planter Jr. or scuffle hoe, which my granddad and dad used in our garden for all those years.
When they were gone and my mom and I decided to have a garden we got out the two scuffle hoes.
We had two because one had a blade for loosening up the dirt and the other was used to take out the weeds.
There were other blades for other jobs, but we never used them because we didn’t know what each was for.
Besides, I didn’t want to attempt changing them.
I mention this because the newspaper had a recent story on this gentleman who has developed what he’s named “Planter Whizbang.”
It’s identical to our Planter Jr., except it has wire wheels instead of plain steel ones.
He adapted it from the century-old wheel hoe, which is what our Planter Jr. is.
Our antique was used for many years by backyard gardeners as well as those who raised onions and other things on the muck.
I imagine it went out of use when the gas-powered tillers came along.
The first rototillers I remember came with s six, eight or perhaps 10 blades that dug up your garden so that it would be ready to plant.
My dad bought two of them, so the Planter Jrs. went up in the barn to be stored and forgotten.
When my mom and I decided to try veggie gardening we had a friend come and till the garden with his Toro.
Soon weeds started to invade, we dug out the Planter Jrs. and started using them.
I remember one evening after supper out working in my garden and my neighbor, who was in his early 20s at the time asking me what that “thing” was I was using. I realized a generation had come up that wasn’t knowledgeable on gardening tools. That had to be at least 20 years ago.
Now we have the gentleman from Moravia who has re-introduced the wheel hoe.
The original was made by the S. L. Allen Company in the 1890s and early 1900s in America.
hey are now being built as the Planter Whizbang and sold all over the country as well as foreign countries.
Whether its called “Planter Whizbang,” or Morrisville State’s “Mo Hoe,” it’s still a scuffle hoe.
Among our tools was a two-wheel scuffle hoe. I didn’t know what it was used for.
The handle was gone and it was outside gathering rust for years. During village cleanup days, years ago I put it out with the trash.
One day while I was at work a well-known gentleman who was known for collecting antiques came into the office and thanked me for the two-wheel scuffle hoe I had placed at the curb.
He told me he had been looking for one of those for a long time and remembered his father having one working in the muck.
Our Planter Jr. might be an antique, but it remains a useful tool and won’t be discarded anytime soon.
Have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend.
When they were gone and my mom and I decided to have a garden we got out the two scuffle hoes.
We had two because one had a blade for loosening up the dirt and the other was used to take out the weeds.
There were other blades for other jobs, but we never used them because we didn’t know what each was for.
Besides, I didn’t want to attempt changing them.
I mention this because the newspaper had a recent story on this gentleman who has developed what he’s named “Planter Whizbang.”
It’s identical to our Planter Jr., except it has wire wheels instead of plain steel ones.
He adapted it from the century-old wheel hoe, which is what our Planter Jr. is.
Our antique was used for many years by backyard gardeners as well as those who raised onions and other things on the muck.
I imagine it went out of use when the gas-powered tillers came along.
The first rototillers I remember came with s six, eight or perhaps 10 blades that dug up your garden so that it would be ready to plant.
My dad bought two of them, so the Planter Jrs. went up in the barn to be stored and forgotten.
When my mom and I decided to try veggie gardening we had a friend come and till the garden with his Toro.
Soon weeds started to invade, we dug out the Planter Jrs. and started using them.
I remember one evening after supper out working in my garden and my neighbor, who was in his early 20s at the time asking me what that “thing” was I was using. I realized a generation had come up that wasn’t knowledgeable on gardening tools. That had to be at least 20 years ago.
Now we have the gentleman from Moravia who has re-introduced the wheel hoe.
The original was made by the S. L. Allen Company in the 1890s and early 1900s in America.
hey are now being built as the Planter Whizbang and sold all over the country as well as foreign countries.
Whether its called “Planter Whizbang,” or Morrisville State’s “Mo Hoe,” it’s still a scuffle hoe.
Among our tools was a two-wheel scuffle hoe. I didn’t know what it was used for.
The handle was gone and it was outside gathering rust for years. During village cleanup days, years ago I put it out with the trash.
One day while I was at work a well-known gentleman who was known for collecting antiques came into the office and thanked me for the two-wheel scuffle hoe I had placed at the curb.
He told me he had been looking for one of those for a long time and remembered his father having one working in the muck.
Our Planter Jr. might be an antique, but it remains a useful tool and won’t be discarded anytime soon.
Have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Fall signs abound
The signs are that the summer will end soon…does it seem possible? Where has our summer escaped from us?
The first sign that I noticed was the most eloquent ringing of the cicada, which comes down from all the trees. We always think of them clinging to the power lines. When we were children, we knew it was hot and dry when you heard the cicada or we children labeled them locust, but I do know that summer was on the wane when they sang from the power lines overhead. Now many of the the power lines are in the ground so we wonder – where do they cling now? They tell us you can hear a thousand singing for every one you see.
They are called the “weather bug,” as when you hear its buzz it is generally a hot day and the sun is beating down on the locust, which buzzes without interruption. You know the summer is drawing toward the equinox, bringing changes and sudden rain. We always hated to hear the first buzz of the cicada as it foretold the coming of fall. As of yet, I haven’t heard one, so perhaps fall is a little late.
A locust is a funny looking bug. They have bodies shaped something like a fish in black with shiny green large bulging eyes and big stiff wings as clear as glass.
Other signs of ending summer are the gardens with their crops at maturity and ready for harvest. Locally the onion trucks, though much fewer than in past years, will be going to their destination with their pallets of topped onions letting us know the crops are finished in the mucklands.
The flower gardens with the fall flowers in bloom is another clue that summer is slipping away. While you are doing your marketing you will notice that the grocery stores have all your canning needs if you plan on canning or preserving foods for the winter. Glass jars and lids, canners in two different sizes, funnels, measuring cups, ladles, can rubbers if you still have the old fashioned type canning jars and all the rest of the paraphernalia needed in the canning process. This year is my time to make chili sauce, so it’s the necessary ingredients for that, i.e.: tomatoes, peppers, onions, vinegar, brown sugar, celery seed, etc. “Why don’t you just buy it at the store?” I am asked by members of my family, but I can’t find any that tastes like mine, so I try and make a double batch every two years and that lasts me for awhile. And, it smells so good when it’s cooking.
Another sign that summer is slipping away on TV, radio and in newspapers are reminding us that school supplies and clothing tare on sale. Moms will be dragging kids to stores to outfit them for school. They don’t dare go and purchase school clothes without the child because “what does mom know about fashion?”
And if all of this hasn’t put you in the know, the State Fair opens today. Grandpa always said the summer was over and fall was officially here when the State Fair opened.
And, too, following the visit to the fair, in the next couple of weeks we would make a trip to the peach country (we had relatives in Phelps) where we would get a supply of New York state peaches for canning because in his opinion (my grandpa) they were the best.
Those were the good old days.
The first sign that I noticed was the most eloquent ringing of the cicada, which comes down from all the trees. We always think of them clinging to the power lines. When we were children, we knew it was hot and dry when you heard the cicada or we children labeled them locust, but I do know that summer was on the wane when they sang from the power lines overhead. Now many of the the power lines are in the ground so we wonder – where do they cling now? They tell us you can hear a thousand singing for every one you see.
They are called the “weather bug,” as when you hear its buzz it is generally a hot day and the sun is beating down on the locust, which buzzes without interruption. You know the summer is drawing toward the equinox, bringing changes and sudden rain. We always hated to hear the first buzz of the cicada as it foretold the coming of fall. As of yet, I haven’t heard one, so perhaps fall is a little late.
A locust is a funny looking bug. They have bodies shaped something like a fish in black with shiny green large bulging eyes and big stiff wings as clear as glass.
Other signs of ending summer are the gardens with their crops at maturity and ready for harvest. Locally the onion trucks, though much fewer than in past years, will be going to their destination with their pallets of topped onions letting us know the crops are finished in the mucklands.
The flower gardens with the fall flowers in bloom is another clue that summer is slipping away. While you are doing your marketing you will notice that the grocery stores have all your canning needs if you plan on canning or preserving foods for the winter. Glass jars and lids, canners in two different sizes, funnels, measuring cups, ladles, can rubbers if you still have the old fashioned type canning jars and all the rest of the paraphernalia needed in the canning process. This year is my time to make chili sauce, so it’s the necessary ingredients for that, i.e.: tomatoes, peppers, onions, vinegar, brown sugar, celery seed, etc. “Why don’t you just buy it at the store?” I am asked by members of my family, but I can’t find any that tastes like mine, so I try and make a double batch every two years and that lasts me for awhile. And, it smells so good when it’s cooking.
Another sign that summer is slipping away on TV, radio and in newspapers are reminding us that school supplies and clothing tare on sale. Moms will be dragging kids to stores to outfit them for school. They don’t dare go and purchase school clothes without the child because “what does mom know about fashion?”
And if all of this hasn’t put you in the know, the State Fair opens today. Grandpa always said the summer was over and fall was officially here when the State Fair opened.
And, too, following the visit to the fair, in the next couple of weeks we would make a trip to the peach country (we had relatives in Phelps) where we would get a supply of New York state peaches for canning because in his opinion (my grandpa) they were the best.
Those were the good old days.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The world has changed
Have you ever noticed that when the wind is blowing a certain way, a train whistle sound a whole lot different?
In the old days, someone would say “there will be rain before morning.” Others would point to other signs that would foretell rain. This was in the days before Doppler radar.
If their forecast turned out to be wrong, then they would have an answer for that, too. I still believe that our old timers who could predict the weather were generally on course. Now, with our global warming and other disturbances in the sky I sometimes wonder if anyone really knows what the weather will do.
When asked to my grandfather how he knew the rain would come he would reply that the train whistle had a different “shrill” to it.
Perhaps so, but the other evening while we were sitting on the porch and we heard a train approaching in the far distance it sounded faraway and lonesome the closer it got to our village, it was really loud and I recalled what my grandfather had told me. It was right. That night we had rain. The trains don’t blow their alarm near our house now that they are elevated, so a warning isn’t needed; we only hear them when they are approaching a crossing that hasn’t been elevated, which is a few miles from Canastota.
When we were babies, mothers would put us in our carriages after our morning feeding and bath and set us on the porch outside where we could nap and get fresh air. The mothers would complain about the train whistles until the babies would get used to the noise. Relatives who came for a visit or new residents who purchased a home near the railroad tracks soon had to become familiar with the noise and be able to sleep through it.
Back in those days peddlers came around with their vegetables and fruits calling out what they had to sell that day, letting those people at home know what they could purchase for their evening meal. Talk about freshness. The ice man who came before refrigeration, the meter man, dry cleaner who came for your clothes that needed to be cleaned. I can remember when the insurance man came to collect your monthly or weekly premium towards your life insurance. These people all came to your home while baby napped on the porch.
Think about it. When did you last see a baby carriage on a front porch or for that matter any place on a street? Babies ride in car carriers today. You see strollers, but hardly ever a carriage. And, in this day would you feel comfortable leaving a baby outside without an adult in attendance?
Are you old enough to remember when others while going into a grocery store or other store, left the baby outside the store in the carriage without anyone watching over the baby? Times have changed. There are not that many mothers who stay at home and care for the children, they have to work to make ends meet. Those that do are privileged.
Children are now fingerprinted, given instructions at home, take special classes in school on how to stay safe at playgrounds, or in public places.
My, how the world has changed.
In the old days, someone would say “there will be rain before morning.” Others would point to other signs that would foretell rain. This was in the days before Doppler radar.
If their forecast turned out to be wrong, then they would have an answer for that, too. I still believe that our old timers who could predict the weather were generally on course. Now, with our global warming and other disturbances in the sky I sometimes wonder if anyone really knows what the weather will do.
When asked to my grandfather how he knew the rain would come he would reply that the train whistle had a different “shrill” to it.
Perhaps so, but the other evening while we were sitting on the porch and we heard a train approaching in the far distance it sounded faraway and lonesome the closer it got to our village, it was really loud and I recalled what my grandfather had told me. It was right. That night we had rain. The trains don’t blow their alarm near our house now that they are elevated, so a warning isn’t needed; we only hear them when they are approaching a crossing that hasn’t been elevated, which is a few miles from Canastota.
When we were babies, mothers would put us in our carriages after our morning feeding and bath and set us on the porch outside where we could nap and get fresh air. The mothers would complain about the train whistles until the babies would get used to the noise. Relatives who came for a visit or new residents who purchased a home near the railroad tracks soon had to become familiar with the noise and be able to sleep through it.
Back in those days peddlers came around with their vegetables and fruits calling out what they had to sell that day, letting those people at home know what they could purchase for their evening meal. Talk about freshness. The ice man who came before refrigeration, the meter man, dry cleaner who came for your clothes that needed to be cleaned. I can remember when the insurance man came to collect your monthly or weekly premium towards your life insurance. These people all came to your home while baby napped on the porch.
Think about it. When did you last see a baby carriage on a front porch or for that matter any place on a street? Babies ride in car carriers today. You see strollers, but hardly ever a carriage. And, in this day would you feel comfortable leaving a baby outside without an adult in attendance?
Are you old enough to remember when others while going into a grocery store or other store, left the baby outside the store in the carriage without anyone watching over the baby? Times have changed. There are not that many mothers who stay at home and care for the children, they have to work to make ends meet. Those that do are privileged.
Children are now fingerprinted, given instructions at home, take special classes in school on how to stay safe at playgrounds, or in public places.
My, how the world has changed.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
I remember horses on the streets of Canastota
Last month’s Lorenzo Driving Competition put me in mind of horses and how few there are in our local area. Perhaps on farms, but not in our village. To see a horse go down Canastota streets would certainly be a sight and an attraction for our young folks. The only time that happens is when we have a parade and horses are included in it.
But there are some of us who can still remember that there were horses living in our confines of the village. Namely on West Lewis Street, Roberts Street off from Mill Street and Barlow Street. As a small girl seeing these horses go past our home was still a curiosity and if we saw one coming we would run and tell the other kids in the neighborhood that it was coming by our houses. We do however remember the story of an aunt of ours who came to live in Canastota in horse driving days and was married to a blacksmith who was kept busy shoeing the animals. One time as she was driving her buggy across the Erie Canal lift bridge the horse got startled and ran away with her giving her a fright before finally getting it under control. My uncle decided the horse had to be “put down” because it wasn’t the first time that the horse had become violent and he felt it wasn’t safe for my aunt to handle him.
I happened to be a friend of the little girl that lived on Barlow Street with the horse. Every summer at least once that I knew of, the farm on the end of James Street located on Stroud Street had fields of hay. The gentleman who lived there would cut it and the man on Barlow Street would take his team and wagon and go and get a load for his animals. One vivid memory from my childhood was the thrill of being able to ride on the back of the wagon to get a load of hay with my friend. It was an experience I will never forget lumbering along with the team going for the hay and riding on the top of the load returning home right in the village waving to the people we passed along the way who were out doing chores around their houses or something. I don’t remember the names of the horses, but they were a gentle team and we helped water them when we got home and unloaded the hay.
All the horses I remember were for transportation or for working. The one on Roberts Street was owned by Angelo Canino. He was a produce man who went from street to street selling his cabbage, celery, tomatoes, oranges, bananas, potatoes or whatever he had fresh that day. In those days women were home and would hear him coming and go out to meet him with their change purses in hand to purchase fresh veggies and fruit for that night’s supper. He would make the rounds every day I think, but perhaps I don’t remember that accurately, because we were still little kids. We would only be interested in the ice man and chips we could beg from him on hot summer days. He was a welcome sight back in those days.
The other two horses I remember were mainly for transportation and family business. The one off of Mill Street had a rather long wagon and when the family went out there would be mom and dad on the seat and the rest of the family would sit on the sides or the back of the wagon with their feet dangling.
When and why the family moved from Mill Street I don’t know, but I wonder if it was because they were asked to by the village fathers. It would have to be a suggestion, however; the grandfather’s law protected them from being forced to move.
The gentleman who lived on West Lewis Street had his horse as an only means of transportation. He was in his late 60s or 70s and as we were told did not have the means to purchase a car, nor would he have had a driving license. His conveyance was a single- seated wagon.
He might have seemed eccentric because he was often seen riding with a stovepipe hat, either rubber farm boots or felt leggings and short rubber boots. No one ever questioned his attire and accepted it as normal for him. He attended church every Sunday and could quote the Bible by chapter and verse without any hesitation. I often sat in the congregation with my family and listened as the minister would ask him to tell the Scripture that was referred to on the bulletin. His neighbors thought dearly of him and often saw that he had a cooked meal and fresh vegetables, bread and other foodstuffs. His horse was not a problem for them as in those days it was accepted if you had a horse in your barn.
I know that there were quite a few residents in our village who enjoyed horseback riding, but their animals were stabled on farms outside of the village.
When Vernon Downs came into being, interest in horses returned . A few stables were built near our village and folks began traveling to Vernon nightly to see if they could win a race.
But there are some of us who can still remember that there were horses living in our confines of the village. Namely on West Lewis Street, Roberts Street off from Mill Street and Barlow Street. As a small girl seeing these horses go past our home was still a curiosity and if we saw one coming we would run and tell the other kids in the neighborhood that it was coming by our houses. We do however remember the story of an aunt of ours who came to live in Canastota in horse driving days and was married to a blacksmith who was kept busy shoeing the animals. One time as she was driving her buggy across the Erie Canal lift bridge the horse got startled and ran away with her giving her a fright before finally getting it under control. My uncle decided the horse had to be “put down” because it wasn’t the first time that the horse had become violent and he felt it wasn’t safe for my aunt to handle him.
I happened to be a friend of the little girl that lived on Barlow Street with the horse. Every summer at least once that I knew of, the farm on the end of James Street located on Stroud Street had fields of hay. The gentleman who lived there would cut it and the man on Barlow Street would take his team and wagon and go and get a load for his animals. One vivid memory from my childhood was the thrill of being able to ride on the back of the wagon to get a load of hay with my friend. It was an experience I will never forget lumbering along with the team going for the hay and riding on the top of the load returning home right in the village waving to the people we passed along the way who were out doing chores around their houses or something. I don’t remember the names of the horses, but they were a gentle team and we helped water them when we got home and unloaded the hay.
All the horses I remember were for transportation or for working. The one on Roberts Street was owned by Angelo Canino. He was a produce man who went from street to street selling his cabbage, celery, tomatoes, oranges, bananas, potatoes or whatever he had fresh that day. In those days women were home and would hear him coming and go out to meet him with their change purses in hand to purchase fresh veggies and fruit for that night’s supper. He would make the rounds every day I think, but perhaps I don’t remember that accurately, because we were still little kids. We would only be interested in the ice man and chips we could beg from him on hot summer days. He was a welcome sight back in those days.
The other two horses I remember were mainly for transportation and family business. The one off of Mill Street had a rather long wagon and when the family went out there would be mom and dad on the seat and the rest of the family would sit on the sides or the back of the wagon with their feet dangling.
When and why the family moved from Mill Street I don’t know, but I wonder if it was because they were asked to by the village fathers. It would have to be a suggestion, however; the grandfather’s law protected them from being forced to move.
The gentleman who lived on West Lewis Street had his horse as an only means of transportation. He was in his late 60s or 70s and as we were told did not have the means to purchase a car, nor would he have had a driving license. His conveyance was a single- seated wagon.
He might have seemed eccentric because he was often seen riding with a stovepipe hat, either rubber farm boots or felt leggings and short rubber boots. No one ever questioned his attire and accepted it as normal for him. He attended church every Sunday and could quote the Bible by chapter and verse without any hesitation. I often sat in the congregation with my family and listened as the minister would ask him to tell the Scripture that was referred to on the bulletin. His neighbors thought dearly of him and often saw that he had a cooked meal and fresh vegetables, bread and other foodstuffs. His horse was not a problem for them as in those days it was accepted if you had a horse in your barn.
I know that there were quite a few residents in our village who enjoyed horseback riding, but their animals were stabled on farms outside of the village.
When Vernon Downs came into being, interest in horses returned . A few stables were built near our village and folks began traveling to Vernon nightly to see if they could win a race.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
I love to hang out
As I came in from the back porch with my basket of fresh laundry, mostly bedding, I heard my cousin coming in from the front door asking “are you still hanging your clothes outside?”
Of course I am, and I’m not the only one who does. I have always done so when the weather would allow me
There is nothing sweeter than the scent of clothes that have been dried by the sun. When you go to bed at night and slip into those sweet-smelling sheets and covers you know and appreciate it and you can sleep like a baby. My cousin had to admit the aroma coming from the sheets broght back good memories.
Every year (as most folks don’t know) on April 19 Project Laundry List joins with organizations around the country to educate people about energy savings. National Hanging Out Day was created to demonstrate how it is possible to save money and energy using a clothesline. Project Laundry List was founded in 1995 in Vermont after Dr. Helen Caldicott gave a speech at Middlebury College in which she said: “If we all did things like hand out our clothes, we could shut down the nuclear industry.”
She aid the top reasons to line dry are:
1. Save as much as $25 a month on energy costs.
2. Clothes will last longer.
3. Line dried clothes smell better.
4. Hanging clothes is good exercise.
5. Sunlight bleaches and disinfects.
The fifth reason is one that was taught to me both by my grandmother and one of my dear friends’ mothers who was of the Italian descent. When she had a stain on something rather than bleaching it (back in those days they didn’t have bleach in the bottle) you spread the item out on the lawn and let the sun do the bleaching and it always worked for them.
Back in the old days days wooden bushel baskets lined with cloth or eventually plastic were used for the wash. Clothespin bags would hang on the line ready for use. At one time a few years ago, clothespin bags were almost a thing of the past because “no one used them any longer” well duh, I did and so one of my friends who sews made me two as mine were getting pretty worn out.
I have neighbors and friends that have often asked me if we don’t have a dryer as I think they are feeling so sorry for me. I tell them that I do but I prefer my solar-powered one.
Hanging the clothes helps my waistline, saves electricity and I gain satisfaction at seeing them all hung up dancing in the breeze and getting that wonderful smell.
One thing about hanging your laundry on the line is that you have to be sure of the weather. Try to have an “at-home” day that time so that if showers should show up you can get your clothes off the line and in the house before it starts. I don’t plan on going too far away from home should that be the case and at one time you would hear, should you be in a grocery store or other place, and a shower was pending one would say “oh dear, I better get home, I have clothes hanging out,” and off they would go.
In the winter months, mind you, everything goes into the dryer .
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Retirement is a full-time job
If you see me hanging from a ladder on our front porch don’t be surprised. Old house had to have a coat of paint. Our house is painted with oil-based paint and at one time, with lead still in the mix, the paint lasted many more years than it does now.
Our painter is a handyman who acquires many painting jobs during the summer. This year had to be one of them and inasmuch as our house is a large one it often takes a lot longer to finish, especially when it is done with a brush and not a roller. So, I told him not to worry about the ceiling on the front porch, I could do it as I love painting anyway.
So if you see me hanging from a ladder, just drive on by and say to yourself, “she’s at it again.” Folks who know me know I am quite an independent person and don’t like to ask for help unless it’s absolutely necessary so they are not surprised when they see me with a bucket of concrete fixing steps or the porch foundation. It’s the kind of concrete that is already mixed so it isn’t hard to fix a small job instead of trying to get someone who’s do it. That isn’t easy these days. Contractors don’t want small jobs.
You might, if you are a senior citizen, get someone for small tasks through the Madison County Office for the Aging. They have retirees that will help you.
So far, I have been able to do my own fixings; I had an advantage. My dad was a builder and I would watch him as he worked and I learned from that.
Ceilings aren’t the easiest to paint. Especially when they are ribbed. Painting in those cracks is time consuming, so it will take me several days to complete as the porch goes across the whole front of the house. Not to worry; eventually we can get it done.
Notice I said “we” will get it done. If one of my relatives who gets disgusted with me will come and finish it when I’m away, something I’d never allow if I were home.
When I retired, I thought of all the time I would have and how much I would enjoy not having to be dressed and at work at a certain time.
Chores, when I worked depended on weekends, and evenings and were often delayed by weather. I would have all the time I needed.
It doesn’t work that way, I found out. For one thing, with extra time, you do more than you planned. This increases both the work and the necessary shopping for materials.
You volunteer for a charity organization because you thought you would have plenty of time, but you find that volunteering takes up a lot more time than you thought and you don’t have the heart to say “no” when they call.
You planted a huge garden so you would have freezing, canning and preserving all those veggies. The huge garden is taking more time than you anticipated and yielded more than you thought so you find yourself in the kitchen all late summer and fall taking care with your wife/husband of all the preserving.
Beware of retiring and don’t fall into a trap. Plan your retirement and stick to it and don’t let your time get out of hand.
Our painter is a handyman who acquires many painting jobs during the summer. This year had to be one of them and inasmuch as our house is a large one it often takes a lot longer to finish, especially when it is done with a brush and not a roller. So, I told him not to worry about the ceiling on the front porch, I could do it as I love painting anyway.
So if you see me hanging from a ladder, just drive on by and say to yourself, “she’s at it again.” Folks who know me know I am quite an independent person and don’t like to ask for help unless it’s absolutely necessary so they are not surprised when they see me with a bucket of concrete fixing steps or the porch foundation. It’s the kind of concrete that is already mixed so it isn’t hard to fix a small job instead of trying to get someone who’s do it. That isn’t easy these days. Contractors don’t want small jobs.
You might, if you are a senior citizen, get someone for small tasks through the Madison County Office for the Aging. They have retirees that will help you.
So far, I have been able to do my own fixings; I had an advantage. My dad was a builder and I would watch him as he worked and I learned from that.
Ceilings aren’t the easiest to paint. Especially when they are ribbed. Painting in those cracks is time consuming, so it will take me several days to complete as the porch goes across the whole front of the house. Not to worry; eventually we can get it done.
Notice I said “we” will get it done. If one of my relatives who gets disgusted with me will come and finish it when I’m away, something I’d never allow if I were home.
When I retired, I thought of all the time I would have and how much I would enjoy not having to be dressed and at work at a certain time.
Chores, when I worked depended on weekends, and evenings and were often delayed by weather. I would have all the time I needed.
It doesn’t work that way, I found out. For one thing, with extra time, you do more than you planned. This increases both the work and the necessary shopping for materials.
You volunteer for a charity organization because you thought you would have plenty of time, but you find that volunteering takes up a lot more time than you thought and you don’t have the heart to say “no” when they call.
You planted a huge garden so you would have freezing, canning and preserving all those veggies. The huge garden is taking more time than you anticipated and yielded more than you thought so you find yourself in the kitchen all late summer and fall taking care with your wife/husband of all the preserving.
Beware of retiring and don’t fall into a trap. Plan your retirement and stick to it and don’t let your time get out of hand.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Muck life was good
Those who lived here in the 1930s and 1940s remember well the mucklands, the fertile swamp land that was drained around Canastota. Even now there is still muckland worked, but very little.
Some residents who own muck have vegetable gardens there now. I have written about the days when my dad had two huge vegetable gardens on the muckland after he retired because he said, “I like to see the things grow” and grow they did. There is no better soil to grow almost anything in, but there would be nurserymen and farmers who would perhaps disagree.
When my dad had his gardens we traveled those roads almost every night, after supper to go and help harvest what was ready so I knew those roads like the back of my hand. Today I almost got lost. It has been too many years since I have driven along those roads and while my memory helped it didn’t help enough. I got mixed up on one crossroad and as I sat at the four corners trying to figure out where I was, fortunately an old friend pulled up behind me and wondering what my hesitation was, got out and came to my window to ask.
He told me where I was and where I would go if I turned left; then I knew exactly where I was.
Why didn’t I recognize it? You can hardly recognize the houses or shacks. Buildings have fallen down and are hidden by weeds, grasses and all growing matter. It’s sad. As I mentioned the earth is good soil there.
Such happy days they were, even though at the time we thought it was hot, dry, tedious work. But, even though we didn’t realize it at the time, they were fun days when we kids would spend our time weeding in the springtime or topping onions in the summer. The trucks would come into town and pick up all the kids waiting in front of their homes early in the morning and with our cutting knives or shears, our brown bags for lunch and our work clothes together with brimmed hat for shade we would be off for a day on the “black beach” as we called it because that was our summer beach. The going and coming was fun as we talked and sang along the roads and even as we worked on the fields trying to outdo each other as to how many crates of onions you could top that day.
Some romances did begin those summer days and eventually they would be married and soon have a muck farm of their own, perhaps small, but a start.
Some onions are still grown on the large farms as well as other crops such as soybeans and lettuce. In the days when onions were fading, there were carrots, corn, beans and potatoes, but along the years they, too, have passed and the fields have grown up to weeds.
Sunday afternoon was the time for the families to enjoy leisure time. In the evenings the kids who lived in the houses would gather together to play games and have fun time and the adults would finish up chores that needed to be done once they were out of the fields. Women would get their wash done and hung out, they would set bread to be baked in the morning before they went to the fields and it was work until dark but they would sometimes have a neighbor or two come over for a visit and catch up on the day’s happenings.
It was a wonderful way of life, but just memories now.
Some residents who own muck have vegetable gardens there now. I have written about the days when my dad had two huge vegetable gardens on the muckland after he retired because he said, “I like to see the things grow” and grow they did. There is no better soil to grow almost anything in, but there would be nurserymen and farmers who would perhaps disagree.
When my dad had his gardens we traveled those roads almost every night, after supper to go and help harvest what was ready so I knew those roads like the back of my hand. Today I almost got lost. It has been too many years since I have driven along those roads and while my memory helped it didn’t help enough. I got mixed up on one crossroad and as I sat at the four corners trying to figure out where I was, fortunately an old friend pulled up behind me and wondering what my hesitation was, got out and came to my window to ask.
He told me where I was and where I would go if I turned left; then I knew exactly where I was.
Why didn’t I recognize it? You can hardly recognize the houses or shacks. Buildings have fallen down and are hidden by weeds, grasses and all growing matter. It’s sad. As I mentioned the earth is good soil there.
Such happy days they were, even though at the time we thought it was hot, dry, tedious work. But, even though we didn’t realize it at the time, they were fun days when we kids would spend our time weeding in the springtime or topping onions in the summer. The trucks would come into town and pick up all the kids waiting in front of their homes early in the morning and with our cutting knives or shears, our brown bags for lunch and our work clothes together with brimmed hat for shade we would be off for a day on the “black beach” as we called it because that was our summer beach. The going and coming was fun as we talked and sang along the roads and even as we worked on the fields trying to outdo each other as to how many crates of onions you could top that day.
Some romances did begin those summer days and eventually they would be married and soon have a muck farm of their own, perhaps small, but a start.
Some onions are still grown on the large farms as well as other crops such as soybeans and lettuce. In the days when onions were fading, there were carrots, corn, beans and potatoes, but along the years they, too, have passed and the fields have grown up to weeds.
Sunday afternoon was the time for the families to enjoy leisure time. In the evenings the kids who lived in the houses would gather together to play games and have fun time and the adults would finish up chores that needed to be done once they were out of the fields. Women would get their wash done and hung out, they would set bread to be baked in the morning before they went to the fields and it was work until dark but they would sometimes have a neighbor or two come over for a visit and catch up on the day’s happenings.
It was a wonderful way of life, but just memories now.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Summer finally arrives
We’ve waited for months and months, but finally summer is here.
You can smell the charcoal burning as he cooks steaks, burgers, chicken, hot dogs, sausage, peppers, onions and shish kabobs and all of that good stuff. When you are hungry and working outside and your neighbor has his grill going with all of that fine food you want to go over for a visit and perhaps he will offer you something. For that matter during the winter months you sometimes catch the scent of food if your neighbor had the garage door up and was cooking on the grill. Some folks don’t ever give up on grilled food.
But, most of us have waited all of those long winter months for this beautiful summer. When it there was sleet, snow, blizzards and cold wet slop, we kept telling ourselves it’s all going to change – summer will return. Well, it’s here!
Don’t you love going to farmers’ markets and fruit stands? The other day I went bonkers. The homegrown peas were in. Don’t you just love boiled new potatoes and homegrown peas? There were also green onions, homegrown radishes and sweet corn (not homegrown yet- but soon). There are plenty of melons, cantaloupe, string beans, cherries, peaches, apricots, nectarines and strawberries. We have had out-of-state strawberries practically all winter, but homegrown strawberries are the sweetest and the best.
You take a basket of homegrown strawberries, wash and hull them. Take a whole berry, dip it in sugar and pop it in your mouth. Yum!
We have a recipe for shortbread biscuits in which you put an egg and a pinch of sugar in the batter which we like to use. They are just great eaten warm with strawberries spooned all over the top and real butter and strawberries together with real whipped cream all those long winter days are forgotten and you just enjoy.
Did you attend a Fourth of July picnic? Isn’t all of that packing, running back and forth to the house to be sure you have everything and the frazzle on the nerves, getting the kids organized in order to get to the pool or swimming park worth it? Be sure you have everything including the catsup, mustard, salt, pepper and all the extras that sometimes get forgotten when you are sure you have the main foodstuffs.
I’m not a water person, but I do love to go and sit and watch the people. Are you a people watcher? I can spend hours in that pastime. They come in all shapes, size, color and type, you know. Myself included. Sunday at the beach can give you pure relaxation, visiting with whomever is sitting next to you and just watching the styles, color coordinations and especially the variety of hats.
And is there anything like having a game of bocce ball, Frisbee, tennis or going 18 holes of golf and coming to the clubhouse for a long, tall, cool drink?
It’s summer – enjoy it and bottle up some of this fun for those months when we can only discuss all of the fun we are having now! Bless it all and you all.
You can smell the charcoal burning as he cooks steaks, burgers, chicken, hot dogs, sausage, peppers, onions and shish kabobs and all of that good stuff. When you are hungry and working outside and your neighbor has his grill going with all of that fine food you want to go over for a visit and perhaps he will offer you something. For that matter during the winter months you sometimes catch the scent of food if your neighbor had the garage door up and was cooking on the grill. Some folks don’t ever give up on grilled food.
But, most of us have waited all of those long winter months for this beautiful summer. When it there was sleet, snow, blizzards and cold wet slop, we kept telling ourselves it’s all going to change – summer will return. Well, it’s here!
Don’t you love going to farmers’ markets and fruit stands? The other day I went bonkers. The homegrown peas were in. Don’t you just love boiled new potatoes and homegrown peas? There were also green onions, homegrown radishes and sweet corn (not homegrown yet- but soon). There are plenty of melons, cantaloupe, string beans, cherries, peaches, apricots, nectarines and strawberries. We have had out-of-state strawberries practically all winter, but homegrown strawberries are the sweetest and the best.
You take a basket of homegrown strawberries, wash and hull them. Take a whole berry, dip it in sugar and pop it in your mouth. Yum!
We have a recipe for shortbread biscuits in which you put an egg and a pinch of sugar in the batter which we like to use. They are just great eaten warm with strawberries spooned all over the top and real butter and strawberries together with real whipped cream all those long winter days are forgotten and you just enjoy.
Did you attend a Fourth of July picnic? Isn’t all of that packing, running back and forth to the house to be sure you have everything and the frazzle on the nerves, getting the kids organized in order to get to the pool or swimming park worth it? Be sure you have everything including the catsup, mustard, salt, pepper and all the extras that sometimes get forgotten when you are sure you have the main foodstuffs.
I’m not a water person, but I do love to go and sit and watch the people. Are you a people watcher? I can spend hours in that pastime. They come in all shapes, size, color and type, you know. Myself included. Sunday at the beach can give you pure relaxation, visiting with whomever is sitting next to you and just watching the styles, color coordinations and especially the variety of hats.
And is there anything like having a game of bocce ball, Frisbee, tennis or going 18 holes of golf and coming to the clubhouse for a long, tall, cool drink?
It’s summer – enjoy it and bottle up some of this fun for those months when we can only discuss all of the fun we are having now! Bless it all and you all.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Freedom rings, but bell doesn't
Imagine it’s July 2, 1776; it’s a beautiful day and the Liberty Bell is rung to announce the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.
You wouldn’t know it then, but down the years there’s always been a thrill to hear it ring. Several days ago we celebrated the ringing of that bell in 1776 and we today realize how important it was.
We all know because of the crack in the bell it was decided it couldn’t be rung many years later, but while reading an article in a periodical it listed the time it was registered when it was. I believe we at one time in our school days learned this but how many remember?
On July 2, 1776 the Liberty Bell was rung to announce the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.
On Oct. 14, 1781, it was rung to celebrate the surrender of Lord Cornwallis of the English forces, and the virtual close of the Revolutionary War.
April 6, 1783, it announced the proclamation of peace with Great Britain.
Sept. 29, 1824 it was rung to welcome Lafayette, the famous French general who had assisted Washington, to Independence Hall.
July 4, 1826, it tolled to announce the death of Thomas Jefferson, principal author of the Declaration of Independence.
July 14, 1826, it ushered in “The Year of Jubilee,” the 50th anniversary of the American Republic.
July 4, 1831, the famous bell ran for the last time on Independence Day.
Feb. 22, 1832, the bell was rung to commemorate the birth of George Washington. Later in the same year it tolled to announce the death of the last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence – Charles Carroll of Carrollton, Ga.
July 21, 1834, it tolled again for the death of the Marquis de Lafayette.
July 8, 1835, while it was being tolled for the death of Chief Justice John Marshall, a crack developed.
On Feb. 22, 1843, when an attempt was being made to ring the bell on Washington’s birthday, the fracture increased to such an extent that no effort was made to ring it for decades.
But on June 6, 1944 the Bell was struck to commemorate the ending of World War II. In January 1976, the Bell was moved to the Pavilion in Philadelphia where it has remained.
Other little-known facts that I find interesting was the fact that the bell became widely famous after an 1847 short story claimed that an aged bell-ringer rang it on July 4, 1776 upon hearing of the Second Continental Congress’ vote for Independence. While the bell could not have been rung on that Fourth of July, as no announcement of the Declaration was made that day, the tale was widely accepted as fact, even by some historians.
Beginning in 1885 the City of Philadelphia, which owns the bell, allowed it to go to various expositions and patriotic gatherings. The bell attracted huge crowds wherever it went; additional cracking occurred and pieces were chipped away by souvenir hunters. The last such journey occurred in 1915, after which the city refused further requests. After World War II, the city allowed the National Park Service to take custody of the bell, while retaining ownership.
You wouldn’t know it then, but down the years there’s always been a thrill to hear it ring. Several days ago we celebrated the ringing of that bell in 1776 and we today realize how important it was.
We all know because of the crack in the bell it was decided it couldn’t be rung many years later, but while reading an article in a periodical it listed the time it was registered when it was. I believe we at one time in our school days learned this but how many remember?
On July 2, 1776 the Liberty Bell was rung to announce the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.
On Oct. 14, 1781, it was rung to celebrate the surrender of Lord Cornwallis of the English forces, and the virtual close of the Revolutionary War.
April 6, 1783, it announced the proclamation of peace with Great Britain.
Sept. 29, 1824 it was rung to welcome Lafayette, the famous French general who had assisted Washington, to Independence Hall.
July 4, 1826, it tolled to announce the death of Thomas Jefferson, principal author of the Declaration of Independence.
July 14, 1826, it ushered in “The Year of Jubilee,” the 50th anniversary of the American Republic.
July 4, 1831, the famous bell ran for the last time on Independence Day.
Feb. 22, 1832, the bell was rung to commemorate the birth of George Washington. Later in the same year it tolled to announce the death of the last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence – Charles Carroll of Carrollton, Ga.
July 21, 1834, it tolled again for the death of the Marquis de Lafayette.
July 8, 1835, while it was being tolled for the death of Chief Justice John Marshall, a crack developed.
On Feb. 22, 1843, when an attempt was being made to ring the bell on Washington’s birthday, the fracture increased to such an extent that no effort was made to ring it for decades.
But on June 6, 1944 the Bell was struck to commemorate the ending of World War II. In January 1976, the Bell was moved to the Pavilion in Philadelphia where it has remained.
Other little-known facts that I find interesting was the fact that the bell became widely famous after an 1847 short story claimed that an aged bell-ringer rang it on July 4, 1776 upon hearing of the Second Continental Congress’ vote for Independence. While the bell could not have been rung on that Fourth of July, as no announcement of the Declaration was made that day, the tale was widely accepted as fact, even by some historians.
Beginning in 1885 the City of Philadelphia, which owns the bell, allowed it to go to various expositions and patriotic gatherings. The bell attracted huge crowds wherever it went; additional cracking occurred and pieces were chipped away by souvenir hunters. The last such journey occurred in 1915, after which the city refused further requests. After World War II, the city allowed the National Park Service to take custody of the bell, while retaining ownership.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Life's rhythms have changed
Life had a pattern in “the olden days,” as well as a routine. When grandmother got up in the morning she always knew what she was going to do depending on the day of the week. Monday was wash day, Tuesday was for ironing, Wednesday was a baking day, Thursday you cleaned the upstairs rooms in the house which was all of the bedrooms and bathroom and on Friday you cleaned the downstairs and mopped the kitchen floor or sometimes you did that on Saturdays after the baking was done, depending.
If there was canning to be done or other work that was handled during that particular season, you either got it done first thing in the morning or after you had done your regular chores. Nothing seemed to interfere with the routine if you were a methodical housekeeper, which my grandmother was.
I thought of this the other day when I went to a lady’s kitchen and she had newspapers on the floor. That brought back so many memories of when my grandmother used to put newspapers on the floor after she had mopped her kitchen to keep it clean until the next day, which was generally Sunday. As a teenager growing up I had chores and one of them was doing the kitchen floor. I too, like my grandmother and also my mother, always put papers down until the weekend or Sunday morning, that was just the way it was and they explained it was because there was always so much traffic of people coming in and out. Back then it never was heard of to remove your shoes when you entered the house.
When this procedure stopped I don’t remember, unless it was when we got our new “no-wax” floor which shone all of the time, and I guess didn’t need newspapers to keep it clean. It also could be because we didn’t have as many people tracking through the kitchen with either muddy or wet feet to make it dirty.
It seems as if my grandma was a stickler for covering lots of things to keep them clean and neat until it was time to put them in use. After the dishes at breakfast were done as well as dinner (noon time at our house back then) and after supper dishes she had special cloth napkins she always used to cover up the spoon holder, salt and pepper shakers, sugar bowl, castor set, toothpick holder and whatever else was on the table that was left there between meals on a sort of lazy Susan in the center. It was all neat and tidy, but it had to be covered. In the corner of the kitchen was the wringer washer, which was rolled out every Monday morning. This had its own cover, also. Her kitchen cabinet had doors at the top and windows on which she had white dotted Swiss curtains. They were there to keep the contents from getting dusty.
Also on the cabinet counter was a glass jar like the ones you used to see in candy stores. It had a metal cover. It contained her homemade fried cakes. Anyone who came into the kitchen, generally relatives, knew they could always help themselves to a fried cake, and if there was coffee left from breakfast it was still on the back of the stove, warm enough for them to help themselves to a cup.
We still have the fried cake jar, but rarely are there any homemade fried cakes in it. They mostly come from the grocery store these days. Occasionally there might be a homemade batch in there when the weather is bad and nothing can be done outdoors I might make a batch of homemade ones. They go quickly.
It must be a “family thing” because most of my relatives have a fried cake jar on their kitchen counter for those who visit. The calories, cholesterol and such aren’t practiced there. These jars mostly take the place of a cookie jar, however some do have one for the little kids that come to visit. And, some of the men know it’s there also and take advantage.
We don’t adhere to life’s patterns anymore, nor do we have a routine or schedule like our grandmother had or even our moms, who insisted that everyone be at the supper table at night for the evening meals because that is when we would all sit down together and catch up on our happenings that day. We would all be on the same page.
Today much is different. Children have sports events that are either practiced or played at suppertime; many other children would rather be sitting in front of the TV or computer. Mom or dad may have a meeting they have to attend and it is right during the supper hour. But, supper hours have changed from days of yore. Back then most folks ate promptly at 5 or 6 o’clock, but today the place of employment is just closing at that time and you have a drive of perhaps 30 or 45 minutes home which makes the supper hour later. Times change.
There are no longer certain days or a schedule in getting things done in the home. Automatic washers and dryers make any day wash day and the clothes we wear today need little or no ironing.
We go to the supermarket for all our needs that are almost already prepared or ready to pop in the microwave.
But easier isn’t always better. The fried cake and cookie jars can still make the kitchen a welcoming place for those who enjoy treats, even if they now come from the bakery or grocery store.
If there was canning to be done or other work that was handled during that particular season, you either got it done first thing in the morning or after you had done your regular chores. Nothing seemed to interfere with the routine if you were a methodical housekeeper, which my grandmother was.
I thought of this the other day when I went to a lady’s kitchen and she had newspapers on the floor. That brought back so many memories of when my grandmother used to put newspapers on the floor after she had mopped her kitchen to keep it clean until the next day, which was generally Sunday. As a teenager growing up I had chores and one of them was doing the kitchen floor. I too, like my grandmother and also my mother, always put papers down until the weekend or Sunday morning, that was just the way it was and they explained it was because there was always so much traffic of people coming in and out. Back then it never was heard of to remove your shoes when you entered the house.
When this procedure stopped I don’t remember, unless it was when we got our new “no-wax” floor which shone all of the time, and I guess didn’t need newspapers to keep it clean. It also could be because we didn’t have as many people tracking through the kitchen with either muddy or wet feet to make it dirty.
It seems as if my grandma was a stickler for covering lots of things to keep them clean and neat until it was time to put them in use. After the dishes at breakfast were done as well as dinner (noon time at our house back then) and after supper dishes she had special cloth napkins she always used to cover up the spoon holder, salt and pepper shakers, sugar bowl, castor set, toothpick holder and whatever else was on the table that was left there between meals on a sort of lazy Susan in the center. It was all neat and tidy, but it had to be covered. In the corner of the kitchen was the wringer washer, which was rolled out every Monday morning. This had its own cover, also. Her kitchen cabinet had doors at the top and windows on which she had white dotted Swiss curtains. They were there to keep the contents from getting dusty.
Also on the cabinet counter was a glass jar like the ones you used to see in candy stores. It had a metal cover. It contained her homemade fried cakes. Anyone who came into the kitchen, generally relatives, knew they could always help themselves to a fried cake, and if there was coffee left from breakfast it was still on the back of the stove, warm enough for them to help themselves to a cup.
We still have the fried cake jar, but rarely are there any homemade fried cakes in it. They mostly come from the grocery store these days. Occasionally there might be a homemade batch in there when the weather is bad and nothing can be done outdoors I might make a batch of homemade ones. They go quickly.
It must be a “family thing” because most of my relatives have a fried cake jar on their kitchen counter for those who visit. The calories, cholesterol and such aren’t practiced there. These jars mostly take the place of a cookie jar, however some do have one for the little kids that come to visit. And, some of the men know it’s there also and take advantage.
We don’t adhere to life’s patterns anymore, nor do we have a routine or schedule like our grandmother had or even our moms, who insisted that everyone be at the supper table at night for the evening meals because that is when we would all sit down together and catch up on our happenings that day. We would all be on the same page.
Today much is different. Children have sports events that are either practiced or played at suppertime; many other children would rather be sitting in front of the TV or computer. Mom or dad may have a meeting they have to attend and it is right during the supper hour. But, supper hours have changed from days of yore. Back then most folks ate promptly at 5 or 6 o’clock, but today the place of employment is just closing at that time and you have a drive of perhaps 30 or 45 minutes home which makes the supper hour later. Times change.
There are no longer certain days or a schedule in getting things done in the home. Automatic washers and dryers make any day wash day and the clothes we wear today need little or no ironing.
We go to the supermarket for all our needs that are almost already prepared or ready to pop in the microwave.
But easier isn’t always better. The fried cake and cookie jars can still make the kitchen a welcoming place for those who enjoy treats, even if they now come from the bakery or grocery store.
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