Summing it Up...
Now, that I'm way on the wrong side of sixty, I feel that being true to self is important. "I yam, what I yam." Kindness and smiles are to be given away. Women are strong. Men are more vulnerable than we believe. Husbands may come and go...but one thing I know for sure is that I will NEVAH live without a corgi or coffee in my life if I can prevent it. Come piles of dog fur or hot water!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Vintage Thingie Thursday is here again!
Hello, and welcome once again to Vintage Thingie Thursday sponsored by Coloradolady. Click on her name to visit many other sites with vintage entries. Remember that old song, "Back in Fifties with You?" That tune has been running in my head since the new year, so, that's what I'm writing about today.
The family kitchen in a 50's house was the hub, and haven of the home. Mom's domain, so to speak. This is where the kids did homework, and family concerns were discussed. Soup based casseroles baked in now vintage pyrex dishes, stuffed peppers, and stew with home made biscuits were served.
The entire family would gather around a black and white television set; it didn't matter what was on. Everyone watched, and it was usually what Dad selected. Kids didn't have much of voice back then. Luckily, most things on in those days was family friendly, and we, weren't so picky, and spoiled by cable.
Remember Tapioca? It was a monthly treat at our house; discovered as we came home from school, cooling in melamine bowls, on the Formica counter, covered with wax paper. I remember the circles of condensation dotting the wax paper, and the smell of vanilla in the kitchen. Tapioca had such an odd consistency, but was tasty!
Mil not...by the name, I'm guessing it wasn't milk. So, what was it? Mom used to whip it up, and put it in her Easter "glorified rice" dish. It just grew and grew it seemed. Ugh. (That's a recipe, I've never made!)
In our childhood home, supper was at 6 pm, sharp! No matter where we were, we had better be sitting at the table, hands washed, as the courthouse counted out the hour; six gongs.My brother would tear home on his Schwinn, skidding on the gravel, and tear through the house to the bathroom to wash up, as my silent Dad would gaze up at the clock. Families ate the main meal together in those days, it was a ritual in 99% of households, I believe.
See this 1950 Ford? I learned to drive in a car like this, in the summer of '66. I loved this car, and always delight when we find one on the road today! On back, country, gravel roads, my very first boyfriend, allowed me to experiment at the wheel.He was patient and kind; two traits needed, believe me! Heck, we didn't park to neck...we just changed drivers!
Life was so simple, so clean, at least it seemed so. The fifties have always intrigued me; maybe because my memories are so happy of that decade.