So, the quarantine days drag on. I think if I lived in a larger town, the stifling feeling of all of this wouldn’t be so bad, but as it is, we have few options for shopping. We have a grocery store. We have a Dollar General. Truthfully, that’s about it. We had one of the last K Marts in the country, but that closed down this past winter. It’s just four people in a too-small house in a too-small town.Continue reading “The paranoia is thick!”
If you have read this blog off and on during the past few years, you probably noticed that I have quite a fondness for the WNAX Neighbor Lady cookbooks. Now that I have some time on my hands, I’ve decided to start scanning in all the books that I have from the 1940s and 1950s. You can find the ones I’ve scanned so far on the new page designed just for these cookbooks. I will be adding to the collection as I get them scanned in, so be sure to check back!
Well, this “stay at home” stuff is an introvert’s dream, but even introverts hit a wall, and I think I’m getting there. I mean, it would be one thing if the weather was consistently nice and I could get outside of this small house to get some exercise. I did – for a few days. I got all the remaining leaves out of my yard and burned them. I got my pond up and running, which is probably the earliest I’ve ever had it cleaned out and functional. But then Mother Nature decided to play a little joke on us for Easter Sunday, and this is what the pond looks like today.Continue reading “An Easter to remember”
Like many people in the United States, I have suddenly become a homebody. I realized that my “Gee, I have no time to blog” excuse no longer applies, so here I am. Blogging. Thinking. Cleaning. Playing games with my family. Cleaning some more. Sneaking peeks at the CDC website to see what the newest bad news contains. Telling my kids that no, they cannot go hang with friends, although some days I am so tempted to just tell them to go wherever they want. I mean, MUST video games and movies be SO DANG LOUD? Repeat, repeat, repeat.Continue reading “I quarantine; therefore, I write”
Although I was a little late to the party, I discovered Elvis while browsing through channels one day in 1987. It was around the birthday celebration week, and HBO was airing the documentary That’s the Way It Is. My parents were not Elvis fans, and I had apparently grown up in some sort of bubble, so I had no idea who Elvis was. I stopped on the special, intrigued. Who was this man? What was with that fringed jumpsuit? But man, he was handsome, and he could sing.
I went upstairs and told my mom that I was watching some guy in a white jumpsuit sing on HBO. She said, “Oh my, that must be Elvis.”
And that was it for me. My obsession with all things Elvis began.
It’s the time of year when I can easily be found wandering the aisles of Walmart with a glazed look in my eye, buying school supplies and about 842 other things that I really didn’t need but had to have at that exact moment. I don’t know what it is about Walmart, but I think there’s some sort of tranquilizing drug that is piped into the entrance, causing them to forget their budgets and release any sort of remaining restraint that they have.
Perhaps this is why I found myself with a laminator in my cart just a few days ago.
I went there for two things: boxer briefs (not for me, obviously) and Kleenex. I walked out of there $228 poorer. With a laminator.
Yes, I know it’s been a while. It took me a couple minutes to remember how to log back into WordPress. THAT is how long it’s been. I had to enter my password three times before I got it right. Wordpress seemed to give me the stink eye when I successfully logged in, as if to say, “Oh, and NOW you want to see what’s been happening after all this time?”
Although I certainly didn’t just sit on my duff all summer long, for I took lots of trips and was able to take care of a lot of house clutter, the pace of life has certainly picked up in the last week alone. School started. I got the stomach flu (which I’m currently still “enjoying”). My grandpa died.
Out of all those things, it’s the last one that has me reeling. I can handle hectic weeks. I can handle the stomach flu. But I always dreaded the time I’d have to say goodbye to my sweet grandfather. He was a good man who lived live with vigor. He beat colon cancer but suffered through countless intestinal issues from the mid-90’s until he died. Even through it all, he made sure to let those around him know how much he loved them, admired them, and he made sure to thank anyone who helped him.
Writing is definitely cathartic, and I sat down a day after my grandfather’s passing to write a tribute to him. I wrote it for myself, but I shared it on Facebook so that those who knew my grandfather could enjoy it as well. Now I’m sharing it with all of you. Even though you didn’t know him, we can all learn from the gracious way he lived his life.
NOTE: During a recent software update, the pics from this post somehow disappeared. In fact, I must have deleted them off my computer, too, because they are nowhere to be found. I am going to try to retake these photos and fix this post. In the meantime, please know that this post will be restored soon. 🙂
I started paging through the bound collection of 1950 House Beautiful magazines that I have lying around here and I started noticing the striking difference — and amazing sameness — of the ads that appear in the magazines then and now. I happened to have some new issues in my massive “someday-I’ll-get-the-chance-to-read-these” pile and I started to contrast what the two years’ issues reveal about us as a society.
Some things never change. Cars will always be the full-page eye candy of the magazines. Although our ads today tend to emphasize more environmentally-friendly features, there are still some common threads. We still want Cadillacs to reveal that yes, we are just a tad bit more successful than the average Joe ….
And we still expect our Toyotas to have a little more zip. (Yes, I know Toyotas didn’t exist in 1950. Play along, will you?)
We still want faucets, toilets, bathtubs, and showers to convey that we have great taste:
But in 1950, even having good choice in a toilet seat alone was a priority. (When’s the last time you’ve seen an ad for toilet seats?)
Beauty and staying young was important to women in 1950. They even took a risk and invested in rather scary contraptions like this all in the name of youth:
Today, rather than having these little ads make up the tiny little ads in the back of the magazine, we get to see full-page ads of Botox-injected, plastic-surgery laden, professionally hairstyled celebrities pretend like they actually use these products to look the way they do.
Call me jaded if you will, but I’m pretty certain Courtney Cox’s hair has never been drenched with any Pantene product. Just a hunch.
In House Beautiful, paint ads in 1950 were full-page and usually in color:
Some things never change:
In 1950, people seemed to be on a constant quest for the perfect, most comfortable mattress. These ads usually were full-page as well:
Our aching backs were definitely an issue back in the day. We wanted something orthopedic … something that would make us sleep like a baby … yet something that was stylish. Behold, 2013:
I made this one larger so you could see the text: “made from certified natural materials.” There’s that environmentalism again.
In 1950, Liz Taylor graced the back cover of the magazine, touting the luxurious carpet that Gulistan had to offer:
And now? AllState Insurance graces the back cover, presumably trying to convince you that once your house is House Beautiful, you need to sign up with them to protect all that beauty.
Here are a couple ads that you just don’t see anymore in modern magazines:
I swear I’m not trying to be repetitive, because I know I’ve pointed out before how you just don’t see ads for candles in modern magazines, but I guess I was struck by how many candle ads I saw in the 1950 issues. Today? Zero. Back in 1950, we could also get away with copious ads for:
What would Mad Men be without the liquor? Today it seems that liquor ads are becoming more frowned-upon. I figure in a few years the liquor companies will suffer the same scorn as the tobacco industry and ads for booze will not exist.
There were a few ads in the 2013 issues of House Beautiful that you just didn’t see in 1950 and definitely reflect our changing values, especially in where our money goes. Behold the annoying, multi-page ads for the latest prescription drugs:
Two pages of ad space for this drug? Show me the money!
While Americans certainly had debt in 1950, it wasn’t as easy to get into debt as whipping out a little plastic card and sliding it through a machine in the name of keeping up with the Joneses.
The text for this ad is interesting: no late fees, no penalty rates, because there are plenty of other things to stress over.
Yeah — how about the DEBT that people are incurring on their credit cards for crap they don’t need? That’s probably the most stressful thing of all. Now go sit in a corner, Citibank, and count your millions.
Lastly, while many people had pets in 1950 and most certainly loved them as much as we do ours today, we definitely show them love them with food a lot more than we used to. In 1950 there were virtually no ads for pet food, kitty litter, or anything else. Now? They’ve got the bucks to take out those full-page ads:
Oh, and friend them on Facebook. It’s how we roll in 2013.
A year ago I made the decision to “de-clutter” my house by selling some tablecloths that had been sitting in my basement for years. They were a gift from my sister, who purchased them at auctions and estate sales, and many of them were in great condition. The only problem was that few of the cloths actually fit my table, and several were not colors that complimented my kitchen. So they sat there and collected dust until I decided to allow someone else to enjoy them. I kept a few of them that I really loved and put the rest up for sale on Etsy.