Well yes I know it doesn't really, not by anybody's calendar, it's just that it feels that way to me. The last month has been spent in a whirl and feels quite disconnected in time. My lovely, wonderful and much beloved eldest sister has been visiting for a month from Australia and we have had such a delightful and totally distracting time. We have done a fair bit of visiting and travelling, both to relatives (ours) and in-laws (hers) and have even managed to fit in a few museums, galleries and teashops. We have also, in a repeat of last year, done an amazing amount of decluttering. More than I believed possible, in fact. The result is astonishing to me. I can find things in cupboards. I have room to put things in cupboards. Even our poor homeless hoover now has a home (we toyed with making our new 'hoover cupboard' a hideaway for Mummy when things get tough, but decided against it). Have I mentioned how much I love my sister?
The result is, however, now that she is gone and we all have finished crying, that I feel as though I stand on the threshold of a new life. An organised life. A life where things are put away, not left out to get lost or trip up the unwary. A life where cleaning is possible because one does not have to excavate in order to do it. No excuses. A terrifying prospect.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
The Housewives' Monthly Calendar: January's Table of Work
TABLE OF WORK
1. Use up any Christmas left-overs at once.
2. As soon as you have welcomed in the New Year, make a close inspection of your wardrobe and linen cupboard, and take advantage of the bargains at the White Sales. If you have children, inspect school kits and replenish where necessary.
3. Pay all club subscriptions which fall due now, also any dog or wireless or other licence.
4. Settle any accounts held over from last year and if you have a balance on the right side, keep it for an emergency.
5. If you have a country home or a town home with a garden, discuss, plan and decide on the flowers and vegetables you want, and order what requires to be sown at once.
6. Replace any shortages in your store cupboard, taking advantage of any cheap offers.
7. If short of Seville orange marmalade, make a supply of ginger marmalade, orange and apple jelly, and apricot jam from dried apricots.
To use up Oddments of Boiled Ham
Allow 2 oz. ham fat or 2 oz. butter to 1 lb. ham. Put both through a mincer with a fine knife. Season to taste with French mustard, and cayenne, and rub through a fine sieve. Pot, and cover with clarified butter or lard. Pot tongue in the same way, allowing 2 or 3 oz. butter to 1 lb. tongue, and flavouring with ground mace as well as cayenne and mustard.
(The Housewives' Monthly Calendar by Elizabeth Craig, 1936 Chapman & Hall, London)
The Housewives' Monthly Calendar: January
THE FAMILY BUDGET
The best way to budget is to deduct your income tax then divide your income into eight portions, and allot each portion in this way:
A. Food and Household Expenses ... ... ... 4 portions
B. Rent ... ... ... ... 1 portion
C. Clothing ... ... ... 1 portion
D. For Saving ... ... ... 1 portion
E. Doctor's and Dentist's Bills,
Insurance and Holiday Expenses,etc. ... ... 1 portion
If the net income is £iooo per year, the money would be allotted in this fashion:
A ... ... ... ... ... £500
B ... ... ... ... ... £125
C ... ... ... ... ... £125
D ... ... ... ... ... £125
E ... ... ... ... ... £125
To discover the sum you must allow for each item in your budget per week, divide each allotment by 52. Weekly expenditure under "Food and Household" should include all purchases of food, drink, cleaning materials, laundry, light, coal or other fuel, wages, household repairs, any minor household replenishing, servants' insurances, or portion thereof, any window-cleaning payment, etc.
(The Housewives'Monthly Calendar by Elizabeth Craig, 1936 Chapman & Hall London)
Elizabeth Craig
Until a few weeks ago I didn't think I possessed an Elizabeth Craig cookery book. I had heard of her, of course. In her day (1920's and 30's) she was probably the most well known and most published cookery writer. Her output was prodigious. She didn't confine herself to cookery either but wrote on many other subjects connected with homecraft and house-keeping; a pre-war Martha Stewart, and just as inspirational and unattainable for most of her readership I would imagine too. Then I obtained a copy of 'Elizabeth Craig's House-Keeping', a copy of 'The Housewives' Monthly Calendar' and found a copy of 'Economical Cookery' lurking, forgotten on a bookshelf. I'm hooked. Wikipedia has a few bald facts on her life - I would love to know more about her.
So, this year I'll be sharing snippets from 'The Housewives' Monthly Calendar', published in 1936. Each month she provides 'A Table Of Work', a menu suggestion for each day, 'Tea Bread For The Month', 'Table Decorations' and ideas for sandwiches and fillings. No recipes are given. I would imagine that the calendar was designed to be used with her other works, which would provide them if needed. The book is a delight. It would be fun to follow at least some of her suggestions for the month and some of the sandwich fillings sound quite delicious and far more imaginative than anything I have ever come up with. This was obviously a time when sandwiches were taken very seriously indeed.
So, this year I'll be sharing snippets from 'The Housewives' Monthly Calendar', published in 1936. Each month she provides 'A Table Of Work', a menu suggestion for each day, 'Tea Bread For The Month', 'Table Decorations' and ideas for sandwiches and fillings. No recipes are given. I would imagine that the calendar was designed to be used with her other works, which would provide them if needed. The book is a delight. It would be fun to follow at least some of her suggestions for the month and some of the sandwich fillings sound quite delicious and far more imaginative than anything I have ever come up with. This was obviously a time when sandwiches were taken very seriously indeed.
Christmas Day Review
Did you have a lovely Christmas Day? I do hope so. Ours was delightful, quite the nicest I have spent for many years. The weather was horrid - rain all day, so we were under no obligation whatsoever to go out. Rob and I are both still struggling with residual sickness, so staying in and resting was probably a wise idea. Resting in the sense of playing with, feeding and reading to two very energetic and happy little boys., that is. Virtually no cooking either. A non-traditional Christmas menu has become, well, a tradition here and this year was the least labour intensive yet:
Caramel French Toast and Sausages for breakfast (the sausages and the bake in the oven style french toast prepared the night before - 40 minutes in the oven while the boys ripped open their presents and the sausages popped in to heat up for the last 10 minutes). Delicious and lots of left-overs.
Bacon sandwiches for lunch
Pasta with egg and tomato sauce for the boys and, much later quick roast shoulder of lamb (bought several weeks ago on sale and frozen), crusty bread and minty mayonnaise. The lamb was marinated for 48 hours in lemon juice and garlic and was utterly scrumptious. Roughly pulled apart and stuffed into the rolls and devoured by us sitting on the sofa as we watched a dvd on the lap top.
It was very nice not to have to spend most of the day in the kitchen (thank you sweetheart). No vegetables, I've just noticed that. Oh dear. But lots of oranges and grapes to save us from scurvy. Oh, and Christmas pudding too with brandy butter. Some things are sacrosanct.
Caramel French Toast and Sausages for breakfast (the sausages and the bake in the oven style french toast prepared the night before - 40 minutes in the oven while the boys ripped open their presents and the sausages popped in to heat up for the last 10 minutes). Delicious and lots of left-overs.
Bacon sandwiches for lunch
Pasta with egg and tomato sauce for the boys and, much later quick roast shoulder of lamb (bought several weeks ago on sale and frozen), crusty bread and minty mayonnaise. The lamb was marinated for 48 hours in lemon juice and garlic and was utterly scrumptious. Roughly pulled apart and stuffed into the rolls and devoured by us sitting on the sofa as we watched a dvd on the lap top.
It was very nice not to have to spend most of the day in the kitchen (thank you sweetheart). No vegetables, I've just noticed that. Oh dear. But lots of oranges and grapes to save us from scurvy. Oh, and Christmas pudding too with brandy butter. Some things are sacrosanct.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Talk At The Christmas Tea-Table (1905)
“JANIE" says she wants to enjoy Christmas, but it seems often such a busy, hurried time. Choosing cards and presents for her friends becomes a burden rather than pleasure, and a great tax on her purse.
Be sensible, Janie. Put aside first exactly what you can afford to spend, including postages, for postages mount up considerably, and begin in good time. Then choose sensible things. The shops at this season are often full of useless ornaments; buy something which will last. I find my friends like books better than anything else. Very nice books can he bought for a penny, and are far more useful than cards, which are too often hardly looked at, while for 6d. and 1s. really beautiful presents can be made. I advise you to send for Partridges' list, telling them some of your wants. You could give your aunt one of their Devotional Books Series ; then there are nice text calendars for your brother's rooms, and beautiful books for the children. In fact, 9, Paternoster Row can supply wants suitable to every purse, and no rubbish.
“CLARA”, who keeps a little shop, says she used to give small presents to her customers at Christmas, but competition is so keen and trade has been so bad, that she has had to give it up. Still, she is sorry; she does not like to be thought mean.
It is not meanness, Clara; you must be just before you are generous. Remember you have children to support. I know in villages like yours the custom of giving Christmas boxes to customers still lingers, but in large towns it has been almost, if not altogether, extinguished. The population has increased so rapidly, and competition is so much keener, that tradesmen came to an unanimous conclusion that they couldn't afford it. All the same; you might do something in a quiet way. I think we all ought to try to cheer the heart of some lonely person at Christmastide. Is there no one who has seen better days, who you know is out of the pale of the ordinary charities and doles, whom you might take this opportunity of doing a little kindness to? No one is offended at receiving a present at Christmastime, be the gift ever so small; it shows kindly thought on the part of the giver - a thing much more prized than the gift itself. Too often people who have seen better days are overlooked. I remember a case of a minister's daughter, whose father being dead, her income was greatly reduced, and she had to live in small rooms. She was well known and respected, and when Christmas came people said to themselves, " Oh, I won't send anything to Miss B; she is sure to receive a number of presents far better than any I could offer: she has so many friends.” But one old lady said, " Well, perhaps she may be offended, but I'd like her to know I thought of her loneliness this Christmas. I've been baking some mince pies, and I shall take her one or two over." This was on Christmas Day morning, and the old lady came back to say that was the only present the minister's daughter had received. Everybody had been thinking that some one else would look after her. So try and do something for some lonely person, Clara, and perhaps your thought will be far more appreciated than if you had sent presents round to all your customers.
"RESTLESS ONE." - You are restless because you are not satisfied with the state of your heart before God. As the year dies away, I guess your conscience is reproaching you for neglected opportunities of drawing nearer to God; of unkind, cutting speeches you have made; of friends you have snubbed, some of them, perhaps, now dead; of your nextdoor neighbour's gossiping words about you, which you overheard and don't intend to overlook.
Yes, you must overlook them, poor, restless heart, or you will not find true rest. Christmas time gives one grand opportunities of forgiving and forgetting. Make it up with her; you cannot recall the past, but you can do better for the future. And that very restlessness about Divine things in itself is not a bad sign - it is far better than not caring at all. That good saint of old, Augustine, said in one of his beautiful prayers: " Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our souls are restless till they find their rest in Thee."
There is a restlessness that is Divine
God sends it to those souls He fain would bless,
Who, weary of the world and all its ways,
Do thirst and hunger after righteousness.
For Thou hast made us for Thyself alone,
And all the souls of men must restless be,
Till, guided by the Spirit of all truth,
They find their true and perfect rest in Thee.
"FANNY" - I have not forgotten my promise to give you some more fireside hints for those little fingers out of your scrap-bag. Needle books are always in request, and are most acceptable Christmas presents to those people who like to see something pretty in their work-basket, yet are always too busy sewing for other folks to dream of making anything pretty for themselves.
Take two pieces of card - the ordinary visiting card answers the purpose very well. Cover each card on one side first, with a scrap of bright-coloured ribbon or satin; this is done by drawing the silk by needlefuls of long thread across the card inside; then cover the inside with a piece of silk or sateen by seaming it to the edge of the satin. When both cards are thus covered, join them together by seaming them at the back with coloured silk; line them with bits of fine white flannel, neatly gimped with scissors round the edges; fill it with a few needles; stitch on two ends of narrow ribbon to tie up; and lo ! you have a pretty needle case. A flower or sprig, worked in silk or painted on the outside, greatly improves the appearance. They sell well at bazaars; also the long needle-books, but these require, more care in making. Any strips of wide ribbon for the outside, and scarlet or white flannel for the inside, are suitable; and if a little pincushion is made at the end in bolster shape, it is all the more saleable.
"PROUD MOTHER." Yes. I'm very glad your little Eva is so intelligent, but don't overtax her brain by feats of memory, and if, as you say, she takes note of everything, be very careful what you say before her. Parents should remember that children have ears and are very imitative. Let them hear and see nothing that you would be ashamed of any outsider hearing and seeing. Sometimes one hears such conversations as these:
" Mother, what made you marry father, when it was you that had all the money? "
" Hush, child. What do you mean?''
“Why the other day, mother, when Aunt Maria was here, you said he was poor, and had you known you would have been burdened with so many of his relations you might have thought twice about the matter."
"My dear, we must have been talking of somebody else - your Uncle Bob, I expect."
" Oh, no, mother; it was father you were talking of. You said there was a time when he drank too much, and that it was a good thing you moved here, out of the way of temptation - that your money paid for the move – and - "
"Maggie, you must never repeat what you heard – never - never."
But all the same, the mother had had a lesson.
"YOUNG MAID" wants to know how to smooth a creased or rumpled ribbon. Lay the ribbon evenly on a clean table or board, and with a very clean sponge damp it all over, missing no part. Next roll it smoothly and tightly on a ruler, or some round piece of wood wider than the ribbon, and let it remain till dry. Afterwards transfer it to a fresh block of wood (which must be perfectly dry), rolling it round that. Wrap it up closely in coarse brown paper (white paper makes marks), and keep it thus till you want to use it. Don't iron it; ironing a ribbon is apt to discolour it, and give it a faded look even when new, besides making it limp.
"EDITH'' - By all means go to the Watch-Night Service on the last day of the old year. It is one of God's ways of calling His people to Him. Only if by going you so knock yourself up as to be unfit to get your old grandmother her early cup of tea next morning, then I think you would show true self-denial by staying away. Your prayer to God in the quiet of your chamber would be far more acceptable in His sight. To all it is a solemn thing, this departure of the old year. We know not what the new' year may bring - what changes, what disappointments - perhaps death itself for some of us. Life is so full of problems, and vexations, and struggles, it seems to many of us so hard to live at all and pay our way. Dear friends of the Tea-table, I would say to you all, Trust in God.
The Heavenly manna fell each day at dawn,
Not over-night.
So when thy trial comes, thou too shalt find
All will be right.
That each reader of " THE FAMILY FRIEND " may have a truly happy Christmas and bright New Year is the earnest wish of
Aunt Flo
Be sensible, Janie. Put aside first exactly what you can afford to spend, including postages, for postages mount up considerably, and begin in good time. Then choose sensible things. The shops at this season are often full of useless ornaments; buy something which will last. I find my friends like books better than anything else. Very nice books can he bought for a penny, and are far more useful than cards, which are too often hardly looked at, while for 6d. and 1s. really beautiful presents can be made. I advise you to send for Partridges' list, telling them some of your wants. You could give your aunt one of their Devotional Books Series ; then there are nice text calendars for your brother's rooms, and beautiful books for the children. In fact, 9, Paternoster Row can supply wants suitable to every purse, and no rubbish.
“CLARA”, who keeps a little shop, says she used to give small presents to her customers at Christmas, but competition is so keen and trade has been so bad, that she has had to give it up. Still, she is sorry; she does not like to be thought mean.
It is not meanness, Clara; you must be just before you are generous. Remember you have children to support. I know in villages like yours the custom of giving Christmas boxes to customers still lingers, but in large towns it has been almost, if not altogether, extinguished. The population has increased so rapidly, and competition is so much keener, that tradesmen came to an unanimous conclusion that they couldn't afford it. All the same; you might do something in a quiet way. I think we all ought to try to cheer the heart of some lonely person at Christmastide. Is there no one who has seen better days, who you know is out of the pale of the ordinary charities and doles, whom you might take this opportunity of doing a little kindness to? No one is offended at receiving a present at Christmastime, be the gift ever so small; it shows kindly thought on the part of the giver - a thing much more prized than the gift itself. Too often people who have seen better days are overlooked. I remember a case of a minister's daughter, whose father being dead, her income was greatly reduced, and she had to live in small rooms. She was well known and respected, and when Christmas came people said to themselves, " Oh, I won't send anything to Miss B; she is sure to receive a number of presents far better than any I could offer: she has so many friends.” But one old lady said, " Well, perhaps she may be offended, but I'd like her to know I thought of her loneliness this Christmas. I've been baking some mince pies, and I shall take her one or two over." This was on Christmas Day morning, and the old lady came back to say that was the only present the minister's daughter had received. Everybody had been thinking that some one else would look after her. So try and do something for some lonely person, Clara, and perhaps your thought will be far more appreciated than if you had sent presents round to all your customers.
"RESTLESS ONE." - You are restless because you are not satisfied with the state of your heart before God. As the year dies away, I guess your conscience is reproaching you for neglected opportunities of drawing nearer to God; of unkind, cutting speeches you have made; of friends you have snubbed, some of them, perhaps, now dead; of your nextdoor neighbour's gossiping words about you, which you overheard and don't intend to overlook.
Yes, you must overlook them, poor, restless heart, or you will not find true rest. Christmas time gives one grand opportunities of forgiving and forgetting. Make it up with her; you cannot recall the past, but you can do better for the future. And that very restlessness about Divine things in itself is not a bad sign - it is far better than not caring at all. That good saint of old, Augustine, said in one of his beautiful prayers: " Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our souls are restless till they find their rest in Thee."
There is a restlessness that is Divine
God sends it to those souls He fain would bless,
Who, weary of the world and all its ways,
Do thirst and hunger after righteousness.
For Thou hast made us for Thyself alone,
And all the souls of men must restless be,
Till, guided by the Spirit of all truth,
They find their true and perfect rest in Thee.
"FANNY" - I have not forgotten my promise to give you some more fireside hints for those little fingers out of your scrap-bag. Needle books are always in request, and are most acceptable Christmas presents to those people who like to see something pretty in their work-basket, yet are always too busy sewing for other folks to dream of making anything pretty for themselves.
Take two pieces of card - the ordinary visiting card answers the purpose very well. Cover each card on one side first, with a scrap of bright-coloured ribbon or satin; this is done by drawing the silk by needlefuls of long thread across the card inside; then cover the inside with a piece of silk or sateen by seaming it to the edge of the satin. When both cards are thus covered, join them together by seaming them at the back with coloured silk; line them with bits of fine white flannel, neatly gimped with scissors round the edges; fill it with a few needles; stitch on two ends of narrow ribbon to tie up; and lo ! you have a pretty needle case. A flower or sprig, worked in silk or painted on the outside, greatly improves the appearance. They sell well at bazaars; also the long needle-books, but these require, more care in making. Any strips of wide ribbon for the outside, and scarlet or white flannel for the inside, are suitable; and if a little pincushion is made at the end in bolster shape, it is all the more saleable.
"PROUD MOTHER." Yes. I'm very glad your little Eva is so intelligent, but don't overtax her brain by feats of memory, and if, as you say, she takes note of everything, be very careful what you say before her. Parents should remember that children have ears and are very imitative. Let them hear and see nothing that you would be ashamed of any outsider hearing and seeing. Sometimes one hears such conversations as these:
" Mother, what made you marry father, when it was you that had all the money? "
" Hush, child. What do you mean?''
“Why the other day, mother, when Aunt Maria was here, you said he was poor, and had you known you would have been burdened with so many of his relations you might have thought twice about the matter."
"My dear, we must have been talking of somebody else - your Uncle Bob, I expect."
" Oh, no, mother; it was father you were talking of. You said there was a time when he drank too much, and that it was a good thing you moved here, out of the way of temptation - that your money paid for the move – and - "
"Maggie, you must never repeat what you heard – never - never."
But all the same, the mother had had a lesson.
"YOUNG MAID" wants to know how to smooth a creased or rumpled ribbon. Lay the ribbon evenly on a clean table or board, and with a very clean sponge damp it all over, missing no part. Next roll it smoothly and tightly on a ruler, or some round piece of wood wider than the ribbon, and let it remain till dry. Afterwards transfer it to a fresh block of wood (which must be perfectly dry), rolling it round that. Wrap it up closely in coarse brown paper (white paper makes marks), and keep it thus till you want to use it. Don't iron it; ironing a ribbon is apt to discolour it, and give it a faded look even when new, besides making it limp.
"EDITH'' - By all means go to the Watch-Night Service on the last day of the old year. It is one of God's ways of calling His people to Him. Only if by going you so knock yourself up as to be unfit to get your old grandmother her early cup of tea next morning, then I think you would show true self-denial by staying away. Your prayer to God in the quiet of your chamber would be far more acceptable in His sight. To all it is a solemn thing, this departure of the old year. We know not what the new' year may bring - what changes, what disappointments - perhaps death itself for some of us. Life is so full of problems, and vexations, and struggles, it seems to many of us so hard to live at all and pay our way. Dear friends of the Tea-table, I would say to you all, Trust in God.
The Heavenly manna fell each day at dawn,
Not over-night.
So when thy trial comes, thou too shalt find
All will be right.
That each reader of " THE FAMILY FRIEND " may have a truly happy Christmas and bright New Year is the earnest wish of
Aunt Flo
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Christmas Blah
Well all around the blogsphere I see a hive of busyness and creativity and here on this poor neglected blog .......
Ho hum. We feel as though we are limping out the remainder of the year, full of cold and germs, coughs and sneezes. Visitors at the beginning of the month left a virus as a hostess gift and we have been sick, sick, sick ever since. Nothing serious (for which we thank God), just miserable, self-pity inducing sickness. We are all on the mend now, but the result of all this has been that the grand plans I had for advent went by the board long ago. We lost the advent calendar, lost the book of advent devotions and lost the will to continue. Homeschooling was of the decidedly 'unschooling' variety. Christmas has taken us by surprise. Aren't there usually more days in December? I was sure there was another week to go and here we are with it virtually upon us. I don't think I am alone - I keep eavesdropping on conversations in the shops: people moaning "I'm not ready! I'm not ready". In our little neighbourhood the Christmas spirit seems sadly lacking. The shops are packed, the shoppers frantic - as though the shops were closing for a week or more, instead of 2 days. No one seems happy about it - Christians and non-Christians alike. One lady I overheard in the charity shop was complaining that the supermarket was filled with men ("Just drives me mad: all of them moaning into their mobile phones 'I don't know which one you want!'). There are some comic moments but it is all rather sad.
Chez Baleboosteh, we are tired but not sad at all. Happy in fact - just not feeling terribly Christmassy. Today the weather was too bad to walk to church so we bumbled about the house and dried some garlic. Garlic is part of our Christmas tradition (such as it is). The first year we were here we planted garlic on Christmas Day. This year we peeled, sliced (in the food processor) and filled the dehydrator with approximately 10lbs of garlic. The house smells astonishing. We used the photo tutorial provided by Deliberate Agrarian as a guide. I have no idea how long it will take to dry, but we may be seeing the New Year in wielding a grinder and sieve.
Rob has to work a half day tomorrow (boo hoo), but we will then be able to relax and contemplate the holiday properly. Once the boys are in bed we will put up the tree and wrap their presents. As for the rest of today, well there is homemade fudge cooling in the kitchen that may not last until Christmas Day and we are going to settle down this evening to watch that classic Christmas movie ....... 'While You Were Sleeping'. Yes, I know it should be 'Its A Wonderful Life', but I have to admit that while in general I much prefer classic black and white films, I don't really enjoy this one as much as I perhaps I should. Shocking but true.
Ho hum. We feel as though we are limping out the remainder of the year, full of cold and germs, coughs and sneezes. Visitors at the beginning of the month left a virus as a hostess gift and we have been sick, sick, sick ever since. Nothing serious (for which we thank God), just miserable, self-pity inducing sickness. We are all on the mend now, but the result of all this has been that the grand plans I had for advent went by the board long ago. We lost the advent calendar, lost the book of advent devotions and lost the will to continue. Homeschooling was of the decidedly 'unschooling' variety. Christmas has taken us by surprise. Aren't there usually more days in December? I was sure there was another week to go and here we are with it virtually upon us. I don't think I am alone - I keep eavesdropping on conversations in the shops: people moaning "I'm not ready! I'm not ready". In our little neighbourhood the Christmas spirit seems sadly lacking. The shops are packed, the shoppers frantic - as though the shops were closing for a week or more, instead of 2 days. No one seems happy about it - Christians and non-Christians alike. One lady I overheard in the charity shop was complaining that the supermarket was filled with men ("Just drives me mad: all of them moaning into their mobile phones 'I don't know which one you want!'). There are some comic moments but it is all rather sad.
Chez Baleboosteh, we are tired but not sad at all. Happy in fact - just not feeling terribly Christmassy. Today the weather was too bad to walk to church so we bumbled about the house and dried some garlic. Garlic is part of our Christmas tradition (such as it is). The first year we were here we planted garlic on Christmas Day. This year we peeled, sliced (in the food processor) and filled the dehydrator with approximately 10lbs of garlic. The house smells astonishing. We used the photo tutorial provided by Deliberate Agrarian as a guide. I have no idea how long it will take to dry, but we may be seeing the New Year in wielding a grinder and sieve.
Rob has to work a half day tomorrow (boo hoo), but we will then be able to relax and contemplate the holiday properly. Once the boys are in bed we will put up the tree and wrap their presents. As for the rest of today, well there is homemade fudge cooling in the kitchen that may not last until Christmas Day and we are going to settle down this evening to watch that classic Christmas movie ....... 'While You Were Sleeping'. Yes, I know it should be 'Its A Wonderful Life', but I have to admit that while in general I much prefer classic black and white films, I don't really enjoy this one as much as I perhaps I should. Shocking but true.
Friday, November 02, 2007
For Dinner Tonight:
'Homeopathic' Chicken Pie
Cinnamon Apple Spice Tea
The last, minute vestiges of the organic chicken made an appearance tonight, fleetingly, in what was essentially an autumn vegetable pie. Very nice all the same and a pie is just the thing for a chilly night. The rest of it had gone to make 'Chicken Inspired Risotto' yesterday evening. No pudding tonight but we did try some rather delicious Celestial Seasonings tea. This brand is very hard to get hold in the UK, but our local natural health shop managed to track some down. It is always fun to try new teas (a comparatively frugal indulgence at 99p for 10 bags) so I bought this variety together with 'True Blueberry', 'Red Zinger ' and 'Tension Tamer'.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
For Dinner Tonight:
Chicken Flavoured Stir Fry
Rice
Hot Chocolate
Chicken flavoured because I would be breaking the Trades Descriptions Act if I called it anything else - there was so little chicken in it. Why the measley portions? It is all down to Hugh Fearnley Wittingstall and his campaign to stop us buying battery chickens in favour of organic, free range ones. We want to join in, we really do, but organic chicken is just beyond our budget at the moment. Unless of course we buy it when it is marked down for quick sale, which is what we did here. It was clear that this was a bird that had never ingested a growth hormone, wee little thing that it was. As my mother would have said: "You could stick it in your ear!" I poached it with some vegetables in a little water - not as delicious as roasting it but you lose less meat to shrinkage that way (and it is less tempting to nibble at - I can't resist roast chicken). I then stripped every bit of usable meat off of the bones, a grisly task. How much did I get: a paltry 375 grams (about 3/4 of a pound). At full price this would have set us back £6.10. We paid £3.29. Still an expensive option. The children ate some tonight, just as it was, I made the stir fry and I will try to squeeze two more dishes out of it. But it really will not go very far. I can't even say that the meat itself had a better flavour than we are used to, although it did make the most delicious stock (I added the bones back to the poaching liquid for extra flavour). Ah well, at least the bird had a better existence than a battery bird, and for that we are glad.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Talk At The Tea-Table V
"MARY" has a somewhat unhappy home, and thinks the burning of the Yuletide logs and other customs at this season of the year a mockery, when there is no real harmony by the fireside.
Whose fault is it, Mary? Ask yourself the question over and over again, and let the Yule log teach you a lesson. That fancied slight, that imaginary wrong, that careless habit, that nagging temper, that hasty word, throw them all on the Yule log, and let them burn away like the dying wood ashes. So shall the sweet music of the chimney-corner once more be yours.
" Aunt Flo " will glad to answer be from time to time any enquiries in this column, if letters are sent to "Aunt Flo," 9, Paternoster Row, London, E.C.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Whose fault is it, Mary? Ask yourself the question over and over again, and let the Yule log teach you a lesson. That fancied slight, that imaginary wrong, that careless habit, that nagging temper, that hasty word, throw them all on the Yule log, and let them burn away like the dying wood ashes. So shall the sweet music of the chimney-corner once more be yours.
" Aunt Flo " will glad to answer be from time to time any enquiries in this column, if letters are sent to "Aunt Flo," 9, Paternoster Row, London, E.C.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Talk At The Tea-Table IV
“PEEVISH OLD MAID" - Judging from your letter you have chosen a wrong nom de plume. There are no old, maids nowadays - at least, few of the scandal-loving, bitter-tongued creatures we once associated with the name, and marriage may take place at any age, so do not despair. One of the happiest unions I ever knew was that of a dear old aunt, who married at fifty-four. If you wish to lose your peevishness and keep young, don't be self-centred, but take up some interesting work in which you can show affection and self-denial.
Love is the instinct of every woman's heart; it is a God-given gift, so it is not wrong to feel you wish some one would love you. If, as I guess, you are struggling against some hopeless or unrequited attachment, make both a physical and spiritual effort to interest yourself in the lives of those around you - be they man, woman, or child. Rest assured then that, in some form or other, as God sees best, you will be loved and you will be happy. Sunshine will be round you to the end of life.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Love is the instinct of every woman's heart; it is a God-given gift, so it is not wrong to feel you wish some one would love you. If, as I guess, you are struggling against some hopeless or unrequited attachment, make both a physical and spiritual effort to interest yourself in the lives of those around you - be they man, woman, or child. Rest assured then that, in some form or other, as God sees best, you will be loved and you will be happy. Sunshine will be round you to the end of life.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Talk At The Tea-Table III
"MOTHERLY PRIDE" must take a lesson in moral courage. Don't attempt to do as Mrs. Robinson, who has a private income, independent of her husband, while you have to ask George for every penny. You say you don't like your children to go to Christmas holiday entertainments there without making some return, yet you feel the Robinsons would despise your shabby house and plain way of living. If they did, they would not be worth reckoning as friends; but I think most likely you are mistaken.
Don't attempt an evening party; it is a great expense, meaning meat supper, evening frocks, etc. Ask the Robinson children to meet yours from three to six, have a nice tea with hot cakes, etc., plan a programme of various games beforehand, so that the children are amused all the time, and give some little inexpensive toys or prizes to excite interest. You will find the Robinsons will have enjoyed the party far more than many of the stiff formal ones they go to during the season, and George will not be cross at the outlay.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Don't attempt an evening party; it is a great expense, meaning meat supper, evening frocks, etc. Ask the Robinson children to meet yours from three to six, have a nice tea with hot cakes, etc., plan a programme of various games beforehand, so that the children are amused all the time, and give some little inexpensive toys or prizes to excite interest. You will find the Robinsons will have enjoyed the party far more than many of the stiff formal ones they go to during the season, and George will not be cross at the outlay.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Talk At The Tea-Table II
“NETTA" is a nursery governess of small means, an orphan, too, with few friends, so has to spend her Christmas holiday with her employers, who are not absolutely unkind, but expect her to constantly amuse the children, who have had mumps this Christmas, and been unable to go to any parties. Netta's resources are exhausted, and she often feels lonely, and cross, and irritable.
Poor Netta! It won't improve matters to be cross and irritable. If the mood lasts, you will lose all influence over the children; yours is a sacred trust; you must not tamper with it. Throw yourself heart and soul into making their forced imprisonment lighter, and you will cease to feel lonely.
There are governesses in far worse plight - forced to leave their employer's roof in holiday time, and spend their scanty savings in board and lodging. You may have few friends, but remember you have always Him who hath said, " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
Teach your little invalids to think of other sick children. Have they made any scrap-books? Such nice ones can be made of scraps of coloured glazed calico, cut to uniform size, and covered with pictures out of ordinary illustrated papers. Paste these on to the calico, stitch the sheets together, make the cover of stout brown paper, bind it with a strip of colour, and decorate with used Christmas cards. The children will delight in cutting out the pictures, and the scrapbooks will brighten some hospital or workhouse ward. Another time I will give you some more suggestions.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Poor Netta! It won't improve matters to be cross and irritable. If the mood lasts, you will lose all influence over the children; yours is a sacred trust; you must not tamper with it. Throw yourself heart and soul into making their forced imprisonment lighter, and you will cease to feel lonely.
There are governesses in far worse plight - forced to leave their employer's roof in holiday time, and spend their scanty savings in board and lodging. You may have few friends, but remember you have always Him who hath said, " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
Teach your little invalids to think of other sick children. Have they made any scrap-books? Such nice ones can be made of scraps of coloured glazed calico, cut to uniform size, and covered with pictures out of ordinary illustrated papers. Paste these on to the calico, stitch the sheets together, make the cover of stout brown paper, bind it with a strip of colour, and decorate with used Christmas cards. The children will delight in cutting out the pictures, and the scrapbooks will brighten some hospital or workhouse ward. Another time I will give you some more suggestions.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Friday, October 26, 2007
Talk At The Tea-Table I
(See previous entry for an introduction to Aunt Flo)
TIRED ANNIE has so much to do all day, making the house look trim, sewing for and amusing the children, and bearing with "Jane's" tiresome ways, that when night comes she is hardly able to speak to John. She can only fling herself in an easy chair, feeling intensely sleepy. John is finding his evenings dull, and lately has slipped out - to see a neighbour, whose influence is not altogether good. What must she do?
I'm very sorry for you, Annie; but John must not have dull evenings - and you must be your brightest and best at night - then he will not want to leave his home.
But you must set yourself straight first. What you want is an occasional dose of "rest cure.'' Body and mind are completely over-taxed - try what a whole day in bed (say once in ten days for the present) will do.
The house dusting must go; put Jane on her honour not to waste in the kitchen, give the children some quiet amusement, and recreate yourself while lying still with some wholesome work of fiction by well-known writers (I'm always very fond of George Eliot's books when tired and weary), or a pleasantly written biography.
These will carry you out of yourself, and suggest a fresh line of thought. Get up an hour before John returns, make a careful toilette so that he will have something pleasant to look at. You won't feel at all sleepy now; tell him how much that good rest has refreshed you, and you will find he highly approves.
There is no more depressing sight to a man after a hard day's office-work than a tired, peevish, untidy woman. It isn't fair to the bread-winner; it isn't right. Next month I will give you a hint how some pleasant evenings may be had. Remember, Aunt Flo has had some experience.
(The Family Friend 1905)
TIRED ANNIE has so much to do all day, making the house look trim, sewing for and amusing the children, and bearing with "Jane's" tiresome ways, that when night comes she is hardly able to speak to John. She can only fling herself in an easy chair, feeling intensely sleepy. John is finding his evenings dull, and lately has slipped out - to see a neighbour, whose influence is not altogether good. What must she do?
I'm very sorry for you, Annie; but John must not have dull evenings - and you must be your brightest and best at night - then he will not want to leave his home.
But you must set yourself straight first. What you want is an occasional dose of "rest cure.'' Body and mind are completely over-taxed - try what a whole day in bed (say once in ten days for the present) will do.
The house dusting must go; put Jane on her honour not to waste in the kitchen, give the children some quiet amusement, and recreate yourself while lying still with some wholesome work of fiction by well-known writers (I'm always very fond of George Eliot's books when tired and weary), or a pleasantly written biography.
These will carry you out of yourself, and suggest a fresh line of thought. Get up an hour before John returns, make a careful toilette so that he will have something pleasant to look at. You won't feel at all sleepy now; tell him how much that good rest has refreshed you, and you will find he highly approves.
There is no more depressing sight to a man after a hard day's office-work than a tired, peevish, untidy woman. It isn't fair to the bread-winner; it isn't right. Next month I will give you a hint how some pleasant evenings may be had. Remember, Aunt Flo has had some experience.
(The Family Friend 1905)
Talk At The Tea-Table With Aunt Flo.
Until beginning to read Victorian and Edwardian magazines some years ago, I would have imagined the 'agony aunt' or advice column a modern invention. Surely, Victorian ladies all had a network of 'Titus2' women they could call upon for advice. But it appears not and I would hazard a guess that such columns go back much further in time than the Victorian era too.
In 'The Family Friend' of 1905, there is a delightful example of the genre: 'Talk At The Tea-Table' with 'Aunt Flo'. No biographical details are given for Aunt Flo. Was she a real person or the creation of a number of writers. Both are equally possible but I would like to think that the editor of the 'The Family Friend' would be above such journalistic tricks and that she was the alter ego of one writer. Was the author a man or a woman? A woman I hope, although I have at the back of my mind those stories by PG Wodehouse where the hapless hero is reduced to writing under a feminine pseudonym for 'Peg's Paper' or some such frilly journal to earn a crust. The fact that the name was an assumed one was quite the done thing in those days, especially for a religious paper (for reasons of humility and privacy).
What is intriguing is the way that only the answers to the problems are published and not the original letters themselves. Again this is so common for the period. Advice columns in other periodicals take the same approach, even where the advice sought is of a purely practical nature ('hapless in Hendon seeks a pattern for a crocheted collar'; 'careless in Catford seeks remedy for gravy stains on linen' that sort of thing). This was, I think, obviously for reasons of confidentiality (and people were much more concerned with keeping the private, private then), to avoid the accusations of gossip and also to avoid creating an unhealthy interest in the problems and weaknesses of others. Far better to read the solution offered by a wiser soul and not the intimate details of the person with the problem themselves. Goodness, how times have changed.
So I will be offering up some of Aunt Flo's advice to you. I think that she is a delight and offers far more sensible advice that any of the 'aunts' writing in modern magazines. Certainly her advice is more wholesome. As with all things, eat the fruit and spit out the pips. There is certainly plenty of oddity mixed in with the common sense, but you may judge which is which for yourself (especially when it comes to health advice, household remedies and recipes)! I hope that you think her worth reading.
In 'The Family Friend' of 1905, there is a delightful example of the genre: 'Talk At The Tea-Table' with 'Aunt Flo'. No biographical details are given for Aunt Flo. Was she a real person or the creation of a number of writers. Both are equally possible but I would like to think that the editor of the 'The Family Friend' would be above such journalistic tricks and that she was the alter ego of one writer. Was the author a man or a woman? A woman I hope, although I have at the back of my mind those stories by PG Wodehouse where the hapless hero is reduced to writing under a feminine pseudonym for 'Peg's Paper' or some such frilly journal to earn a crust. The fact that the name was an assumed one was quite the done thing in those days, especially for a religious paper (for reasons of humility and privacy).
What is intriguing is the way that only the answers to the problems are published and not the original letters themselves. Again this is so common for the period. Advice columns in other periodicals take the same approach, even where the advice sought is of a purely practical nature ('hapless in Hendon seeks a pattern for a crocheted collar'; 'careless in Catford seeks remedy for gravy stains on linen' that sort of thing). This was, I think, obviously for reasons of confidentiality (and people were much more concerned with keeping the private, private then), to avoid the accusations of gossip and also to avoid creating an unhealthy interest in the problems and weaknesses of others. Far better to read the solution offered by a wiser soul and not the intimate details of the person with the problem themselves. Goodness, how times have changed.
So I will be offering up some of Aunt Flo's advice to you. I think that she is a delight and offers far more sensible advice that any of the 'aunts' writing in modern magazines. Certainly her advice is more wholesome. As with all things, eat the fruit and spit out the pips. There is certainly plenty of oddity mixed in with the common sense, but you may judge which is which for yourself (especially when it comes to health advice, household remedies and recipes)! I hope that you think her worth reading.
First Catch Your Fidget ...
Here, much later than promised is the recipe for Cheshire Fidget Pie. We haven't all been prostrate with food poisoning, it is just that real life has been somewhat 'real' this week! It really was quite delicious and as nice cold as hot. I guess that the taste of the pie would change according to the type of apple used. I'm not sure what variety ours were as we picked them up from the roadside as we walked down the hill last week (where they had fallen from a tree, I hasten to add, not someone's shopping basket!). If you didn't want to use bacon you could use minced chicken or potato. Sausage meat would be good too.
Cheshire Fidget Pie
8 oz shortcrust pastry (the original said only 5oz it wasn't enough for the dish I used)
1lb apples, peeled, cored and sliced (the recipe says cooking apples)
8oz onions, sliced
12oz bacon, chopped small
seasoning
3-4 fl oz stock (I used vegetable stock granules and water)
Preheat oven to Gas 4, 350F, 180C
Make layers in a pie dish of apple, onion and bacon until all is used. Season between the layers with pepper and, if you want, a little salt. Pour over the stock. Cover the pie dish with the pastry. Bake for 2 hours or so. Enjoy.
(Adapted from: The Complete Farmhouse Kitchen Cook Book - Ed. Mary Watts. William Collins Sons & Co Ltd 1985)
Cheshire Fidget Pie
8 oz shortcrust pastry (the original said only 5oz it wasn't enough for the dish I used)
1lb apples, peeled, cored and sliced (the recipe says cooking apples)
8oz onions, sliced
12oz bacon, chopped small
seasoning
3-4 fl oz stock (I used vegetable stock granules and water)
Preheat oven to Gas 4, 350F, 180C
Make layers in a pie dish of apple, onion and bacon until all is used. Season between the layers with pepper and, if you want, a little salt. Pour over the stock. Cover the pie dish with the pastry. Bake for 2 hours or so. Enjoy.
(Adapted from: The Complete Farmhouse Kitchen Cook Book - Ed. Mary Watts. William Collins Sons & Co Ltd 1985)
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Complete Farmhouse Cook Book
Today I rediscovered an old treasure - in the form of a cookery book. Don't you just love it when that happens. You are browsing your shelves, looking for something else entirely and you come across something that makes you exclaim: "How could I have forgotten I had this!"
My 'this' in question is a copy of 'The Complete Farmhouse Kitchen Cook Book', which I have had for at least 20 years and not properly looked at for at least 5, I would say. The book was published to tie in with a television series of the same name, which I dimly remember from childhood. I do know that it was in the days before television cooks became glamorous; the ladies who presented it looked comfortingly like real farmers' wives. I had forgotten until I read the blurb on the back of the book that most of the recipes were actually sent in by farmers' wives around the country. The result is a book that contains some very old and very regional recipes. I wonder whether some are ever cooked anywhere any more. They have wonderful titles: Sussex Heavies (which I think are pronounced as in heaving up a weight rather than 'heavy' as in the weight itself), Lemon Dainty, Shearing Cake, God's Kitchel Cake, How D'You Do Cake, Huffed Chicken.
A great proportion of the recipes embody the very essence of thrift, using produce that would have been easily available to the farmer's wife and making a small amount of meat go a long and satisfying way. One dish that took my eye is baking in the oven now: Cheshire Fidget Pie, made with layers of apple, onion and chopped bacon covered with a pastry crust. Why 'fidget' I wonder? We'll try it later today and I'll post the recipe if it is worth sharing.
My 'this' in question is a copy of 'The Complete Farmhouse Kitchen Cook Book', which I have had for at least 20 years and not properly looked at for at least 5, I would say. The book was published to tie in with a television series of the same name, which I dimly remember from childhood. I do know that it was in the days before television cooks became glamorous; the ladies who presented it looked comfortingly like real farmers' wives. I had forgotten until I read the blurb on the back of the book that most of the recipes were actually sent in by farmers' wives around the country. The result is a book that contains some very old and very regional recipes. I wonder whether some are ever cooked anywhere any more. They have wonderful titles: Sussex Heavies (which I think are pronounced as in heaving up a weight rather than 'heavy' as in the weight itself), Lemon Dainty, Shearing Cake, God's Kitchel Cake, How D'You Do Cake, Huffed Chicken.
A great proportion of the recipes embody the very essence of thrift, using produce that would have been easily available to the farmer's wife and making a small amount of meat go a long and satisfying way. One dish that took my eye is baking in the oven now: Cheshire Fidget Pie, made with layers of apple, onion and chopped bacon covered with a pastry crust. Why 'fidget' I wonder? We'll try it later today and I'll post the recipe if it is worth sharing.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Sunday At Home 1865
"The Sunday At Home: A Family Magazine For Sabbath Reading" was published by The Religious Tract Society, of London: a robustly evangelical organisation and extremely influential in its day. The volume I have is for 1865 (the year the American Civil War ended, Lincoln was assassinated and Lister developed antiseptic surgery). Had you been a subscriber, here is what the first week's edition would have brought you (for the princely sum of one penny):
The Forty Acres; Or Dancing The Old Year Out And The New Year In, by the author of No.1, Paradise Row (a serialised story)
A Hymn For The New Year (Tune: Jerusalem The Golden)
A Winter Meditation (Cowper's 'Task' Book VI, The Winter Walk At Noon)
The Old Year And The New: Looking Back And Looking Forward (an exhortation)
Early Christian haunts In The Catacombs of Rome
The Pulpit In The Family: Eben-ezer; or, The Stone of Help (a sermon)
Sabbath Thoughts: Alleluia
Pages For The Young:
Marion, The Ballad Singer (Chapter 1 - The Working Party)
Scripture Enigma
Scripture Character
Questions on Bible Saints
The last three are Bible quizes or riddles but ones which presupposed an astonishing amount of Scriptural knowledge on the part of their young readers - or at least the ability to find the answers in the family Bible. One can imagine the solving of them being a family affair, with much excitement as the solution was pieced together. Rob and I attempted a couple of them. Great fun (and fortunately the solutions are offered in subsequent editions).
The Forty Acres; Or Dancing The Old Year Out And The New Year In, by the author of No.1, Paradise Row (a serialised story)
A Hymn For The New Year (Tune: Jerusalem The Golden)
A Winter Meditation (Cowper's 'Task' Book VI, The Winter Walk At Noon)
The Old Year And The New: Looking Back And Looking Forward (an exhortation)
Early Christian haunts In The Catacombs of Rome
The Pulpit In The Family: Eben-ezer; or, The Stone of Help (a sermon)
Sabbath Thoughts: Alleluia
Pages For The Young:
Marion, The Ballad Singer (Chapter 1 - The Working Party)
Scripture Enigma
Scripture Character
Questions on Bible Saints
The last three are Bible quizes or riddles but ones which presupposed an astonishing amount of Scriptural knowledge on the part of their young readers - or at least the ability to find the answers in the family Bible. One can imagine the solving of them being a family affair, with much excitement as the solution was pieced together. Rob and I attempted a couple of them. Great fun (and fortunately the solutions are offered in subsequent editions).
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Victorian Sunday Books
I've posted before about how much I love vintage homemaking and recipe books but I'm not sure if I've ever blogged about another great favourite - Victorian Sunday Books. I've made that name up - I'm not really sure what to call them or if antiquarian booksellers have a special name for them (they do for most things). I'm thinking of the kind of book a happy and contented Victorian family would have settled down to read on the Sabbath and in particular the bound volumes of magazines designed for this purpose. They are still relatively easy to find in second hand bookshops and sales and, as they aren't really valuable at all in the financial sense or desirable to any but a small number of dedicated fans, not terribly expensive.
I think they offer a priceless look into the lives of Victorian Christians and a fascinating glimpse of the Church of that time. Of course, like magazines today, they reflect the aspirations of the readership at which they were aimed - or at least the aspirations that the publishers thought they ought to have! And how things have changed - particularly with regard to 'Lord's Day Observance'.
These books were written at a time when the notion that Sunday should be kept as a day apart was widely accepted and put into practise - not just in the public sphere but behind closed doors at home and in one's private life. Certain public activities were virtually impossible on a Sunday: shops were closed, offices and factories silent, fields empty. Recreational travel was difficult and frowned upon (at least in the early Victorian period) as indeed was public recreation of any kind. These restrictions even the non-religious had to put up with. But for Christians across the denominations (and to some extent across the classes too) keeping the Sabbath was a matter of private obligation and joyful sacrifice in one's home. The reading of Scripture, of religious books and improving, morally edifying works was thoroughly in keeping with the Victorian Sunday and something to be shared with the entire family. Hence these delightful volumes.
Over the years I've picked up a number of volumes with titles such as 'The Family Friend', 'The Sunday At Home', 'Words For Hearth And Home' ranging in date from 1865 through to 1905. The early volumes are weighted towards exposition of Scripture, sermons, Bible quizzes, essays on church history and missionary updates (fascinating and poignant accounts which make one long to know what happened to the people mentioned). Later volumes contain more household hints, domestic advice and geographical essays on the wonders of the British Empire ('The Dams of Canada'; 'Australia's Courageous Miners'). All feature a serialised story, fiction but of the improving sort, to keep their readership anticipating next week's instalment. Most have wonderful illustrations.
If you've never come across such volumes, I do encourage you keep a look out. They really are a captivating read. An edifying one too. They all contain a fair share of what to modern eyes does seem quirky and sometimes down right ridiculous, but with it comes stories of bravery and courage, faithfulness to God and sacrifice that should not be forgotten. Plus some very meaty articles on Scripture and church history that would never make a mainstream Christian publication these days. Even the occasional knitting pattern! Reading these books, for me, always makes me consider my own Sabbath practise too; an exercise never wasted.
Over the next few months I want to share some of my favourite excerpts with you. One of the volumes, for example, has an advice page where readers' problems are tackled by the redoubtable 'Aunt Flo'. Now she definitely deserves a wider audience!
I think they offer a priceless look into the lives of Victorian Christians and a fascinating glimpse of the Church of that time. Of course, like magazines today, they reflect the aspirations of the readership at which they were aimed - or at least the aspirations that the publishers thought they ought to have! And how things have changed - particularly with regard to 'Lord's Day Observance'.
These books were written at a time when the notion that Sunday should be kept as a day apart was widely accepted and put into practise - not just in the public sphere but behind closed doors at home and in one's private life. Certain public activities were virtually impossible on a Sunday: shops were closed, offices and factories silent, fields empty. Recreational travel was difficult and frowned upon (at least in the early Victorian period) as indeed was public recreation of any kind. These restrictions even the non-religious had to put up with. But for Christians across the denominations (and to some extent across the classes too) keeping the Sabbath was a matter of private obligation and joyful sacrifice in one's home. The reading of Scripture, of religious books and improving, morally edifying works was thoroughly in keeping with the Victorian Sunday and something to be shared with the entire family. Hence these delightful volumes.
Over the years I've picked up a number of volumes with titles such as 'The Family Friend', 'The Sunday At Home', 'Words For Hearth And Home' ranging in date from 1865 through to 1905. The early volumes are weighted towards exposition of Scripture, sermons, Bible quizzes, essays on church history and missionary updates (fascinating and poignant accounts which make one long to know what happened to the people mentioned). Later volumes contain more household hints, domestic advice and geographical essays on the wonders of the British Empire ('The Dams of Canada'; 'Australia's Courageous Miners'). All feature a serialised story, fiction but of the improving sort, to keep their readership anticipating next week's instalment. Most have wonderful illustrations.
If you've never come across such volumes, I do encourage you keep a look out. They really are a captivating read. An edifying one too. They all contain a fair share of what to modern eyes does seem quirky and sometimes down right ridiculous, but with it comes stories of bravery and courage, faithfulness to God and sacrifice that should not be forgotten. Plus some very meaty articles on Scripture and church history that would never make a mainstream Christian publication these days. Even the occasional knitting pattern! Reading these books, for me, always makes me consider my own Sabbath practise too; an exercise never wasted.
Over the next few months I want to share some of my favourite excerpts with you. One of the volumes, for example, has an advice page where readers' problems are tackled by the redoubtable 'Aunt Flo'. Now she definitely deserves a wider audience!
Playing Catch Up
Thank you all so much for your sweet comments and good wishes. Things just don't seem to be getting back to normal around here. Or may be this is the new normal! The boys are well - if you discount one bout of 2am vomiting (Sunday night/Monday morning) and complaints of a sore throat (today). They still seem to have the most astonishing amount of energy - and honestly I'm not complaining. I thank God for their good health, knowing that it isn't something to be taken for granted. I'm struggling with migraines and would really value your prayers and wisdom. If any of you suffer from them, do you have any tips for either managing them or managing life with them. One thing I do know, I am almost guaranteed to have one if I've lost my temper, become extremely stressed out or ratty. As if one needed any additional incentive to obey God's word and walk in love.
Autumn is without a doubt my favourite season even though it is tinged with sadness for us here. Although maybe the memories of loss make it so beloved - not all sad memories bring sorrow with them, if that makes any sense. My mothers final illness began in September, six years ago and the landmarks of her last three months still frame the season for me. And this year we marked the first anniversary of our baby Esther's death and all the events leading up to it. Bittersweet memories. The weekend of her death itself, I had the most appalling migraine and cried my cry the night before visiting her grave stone. I had in my mind that the four of us would visit the church yard, lay a posy of flowers and spend a quiet moment, just a moment you understand, of reflection and prayer. Hmm. Sometimes I forget I have two rambunctious little boys. Don't know how that happens. The boys looked on the grave yard (which dates back to the late medieval period) as some sort of stony play kingdom. They hit it at a run, whooping like little savages. Every time we turned around we were peeling one or other of them off of the grave stones which they were attempting to ride like horses or scale like mountains. Isaac insisted on laying the posy on another grave altogether: "No Mummy, this one really!" and as we finally wrested it out of his hands, Elisha emerged from the undergrowth with the remains of a dead wood pigeon in his hands. Which he then attempted to eat or kiss, I'm not quite sure which! The boys then found some lumps of chalk (it rises to the surface of the land around here after a heavy rain) and proceed to wipe them over their faces and hands. How they quite manage to pack so much activity into such a short space of time I have no idea. Wiping tears of laughter from our eyes we decided to call it a day. You cannot be solomn around little boys.
I hasten to add that there wasn't anyone else in the grave yard at the time and that we will be following our visit with (yet another) lesson in graveyard ettiquette. On the way back home Isaac asked us if we thought that baby Esther would have liked the flowers. Would she have smiled, he asked. Yes, my sweetheart, I'm sure of it.
Autumn is without a doubt my favourite season even though it is tinged with sadness for us here. Although maybe the memories of loss make it so beloved - not all sad memories bring sorrow with them, if that makes any sense. My mothers final illness began in September, six years ago and the landmarks of her last three months still frame the season for me. And this year we marked the first anniversary of our baby Esther's death and all the events leading up to it. Bittersweet memories. The weekend of her death itself, I had the most appalling migraine and cried my cry the night before visiting her grave stone. I had in my mind that the four of us would visit the church yard, lay a posy of flowers and spend a quiet moment, just a moment you understand, of reflection and prayer. Hmm. Sometimes I forget I have two rambunctious little boys. Don't know how that happens. The boys looked on the grave yard (which dates back to the late medieval period) as some sort of stony play kingdom. They hit it at a run, whooping like little savages. Every time we turned around we were peeling one or other of them off of the grave stones which they were attempting to ride like horses or scale like mountains. Isaac insisted on laying the posy on another grave altogether: "No Mummy, this one really!" and as we finally wrested it out of his hands, Elisha emerged from the undergrowth with the remains of a dead wood pigeon in his hands. Which he then attempted to eat or kiss, I'm not quite sure which! The boys then found some lumps of chalk (it rises to the surface of the land around here after a heavy rain) and proceed to wipe them over their faces and hands. How they quite manage to pack so much activity into such a short space of time I have no idea. Wiping tears of laughter from our eyes we decided to call it a day. You cannot be solomn around little boys.
I hasten to add that there wasn't anyone else in the grave yard at the time and that we will be following our visit with (yet another) lesson in graveyard ettiquette. On the way back home Isaac asked us if we thought that baby Esther would have liked the flowers. Would she have smiled, he asked. Yes, my sweetheart, I'm sure of it.
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