1950’s

A Glimpse into the Food Lives of People From the Past

Linda Vernon 1950's, Edible Tales, Thrift Store Finds , , , , , , , , ,

Dear Readers!  What fruitful weekend I had at the Thrift Store.  I was lucky enough to find this Heinz Ketchup cookbook from 1957!

You see, back in 1957, before life was unnecessarily complicated with Twitter, Facebook and the radio alarm clock, people would stay home and cook dishes that required a lot of Heinz Ketchup.

Let’s take a peek inside the pages of these 1957 Heinz Ketchup Prize winning recipes and see if we can get a glimpse into the food lives of people from the past:

 

It’s Red Magic! Hey wait a minute! In 1957, during the height of the cold war against communism, it seems a little odd that Heinz Ketchup would bill their product by saying “It’s Red Magic.”

And the fact that Mother seems to be flirting with a gigantic tomato man wearing a manacle isn’t helping Heinz Ketchup’s credibility either . . .  oh well let’s just keep moving.

 

Okay, here we have Mother cooking with what looks like a radio-active bottle of Heinz Ketchup. But there’s probably a simple explanation.

Mother’s husband, Father, is probably a Nuclear Physicist who sometimes brings home radioactive isotopes from the office to put in the Ketchup bottle to freak Mother out!

That Father always with the pranks!  (Too bad Mother didn’t even notice!)

 

The only explanation for what Mother is doing here is that Father told Mother to take a long walk on a short pier.

Ha! That Father!  Which Mother did, of course, and while she was at it decided to do a little fishing.

Of course, as you can see the radioactive isotope has caused the Heinz Ketchup bottle to fuse permanently to Mother’s hand.  Father. Could. Not. Stop. Laughing.

 

Here are Mother and Father’s children, Boy and Girl. They are eating minced ham and bean sandwiches that Father made for them.

Oh that wacky Father!  He made both Boy and Girl  these Ketchup bean sandwiches and is now hiding behind the Frigidaire spying on them as they try to eat their Ketchup bean sandwiches.

Right about now Father is probably thinking about how he should see if Milton Berle needs any more comedy writers!

 

Hey who’s this?  Why it’s New Mother, of course.  Old Mother had a drowning accident when she was unable to paddle to safety after falling off a short pier due to the Ketchup bottle being fused to her hand. 

But that’s okay because Father found and married New Mother later that day!  And New Mother has just cooked Father a tasty dish of  Green Beans with Ketchup!

Little does New Mother know that Father has just stuck two radioactive isotopes into the casserole dish she’s holding and Father can’t wait to see the look on New Mother’s face when she tries to set the dish down but finds that it’s fused to her hands!

Unfortunately Father didn’t get to see the look on New Mother’s face because just then the phone rang and Father ran to answer it because  — who knows — it might have been that all important call from Uncle Milty!

“I need a new comedy writer. Find out if Father’s available.”

And there you have it, Dear Readers, a glimpse into the food lives of people from the past.

Until next time . . . I love you

Dumb Things We Did in the 50’s

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My dad, my brother and me in 1953.

Flipping though the pages of  the TV Guide yesterday brought back a lot of memories.  Here are some  things I haven’t thought about in years:

Smoking

When I was a little girl growing up in the 50’s and 60’s, my grandfather smoked Chesterfields and my mother smoked Salems and my dad smoked Camels.  Of course, everybody smoked everywhere.  In the house, in the car, before, during and after meals, in movie theaters, airplanes, buses and department stores and probably even at death-bed vigils.

Men used to hold cigarettes on the side of their mouths and smoke them hands free while they mowed the lawn or pumped gas. (It was the 50’s version of multi-tasking.)  If there wasn’t an ashtray people would just drop their cigarettes on the ground and step on them.

Drinking and Driving

When I was a kid I thought nothing of it when my dad would drive around with a can of beer between his legs. He drank Olympia beer.  I remember once when I was really little  going for a drive with my dad in the country.  He was driving with a can of beer between his legs, and his shotgun right beside him at the ready.  (I was also in the front seat.)  Every once in a while my dad would slow way down,  reach over,  grab his shotgun and then shoot at a pheasant from the car window.  This was a perfectly normal and natural part of everyday life. (He always missed by the way!)

Olympia Beer always claimed it was “the water” that made their beer so good, but I suspect it was the alcohol.

Helmets and Seat belts

When I was growing up, the only people who wore helmets were human cannon balls. They were the only people to wear capes too now that I think about it.

“Golly, I hope this wind doesn’t put out my cigarette!”

And seat belts?  Forget about it!  When they started making cars with seat belts everyone totally ignored them or tucked them into the seat so they wouldn’t be in the way.  I don’t even think the astronauts wore seat belts. (Probably because it would have restricted their cigarette smoking.)

Cooking

When I was a kid the term fast food meant somebody dropped a watermelon down a hill and it was rolling too fast to catch it.  Of course, I lived in a small town of a thousand people and there certainly weren’t any fast food places in that town.

My mother cooked every meal everyday and on Sunday afternoon, she would fix a big Sunday dinner.  Of course, all the stores were closed on Sundays, so if she forgot to buy an ingredient, she would have to borrow it from the neighbors or make do without.

My mother kept a coffee can of bacon grease to cook with in the cupboard above the stove. I distinctly remember this because one time when she reached to get it down, she spilled it all over herself and the stove. Boy was she mad . . . I think it might have put out her cigarette!
Until next time Dear Readers . . . I love you

The Government Helps 1956 Mom Kill The Lonely Hours of Her Day!

Linda Vernon 1950's, Wackadoodle Adventures of 1956 Mom , , , , , , , , ,

In this 1956 government issued Bulletin No. 10, the government suggests 1956 Mom go about killing the lonely hours of her day by freezing some strawberries!

Isn’t it adorable?

To that end, the government has transformed the simple task of placing some strawberries in the freezer into a complicated, time-consuming ordeal that is guaranteed to take 1956 Mom all day long!

Step One

First, 1956 Mom needs to wash the strawberries, then gently lift them out of the water where they will be ready for contemplation (as pictured).

To kill as many lonely hours as possible, the government is suggesting 1956 Mom contemplate the berries for two hours minimum — the same length of time she was instructed to contemplate her navel in the previously issued government Bulletin No. 9 entitled 1956 Moms and Their Navels.

Step Two:

1956 Mom now needs to remove the hulls from the berries which is easier said than done.  1956 Mom knows that she doesn’t exactly know what a strawberry hull is  — which means a trip to the local library where she can study the anatomy of a strawberry and sketch it into her Things I Once Froze diary for future strawberry freezing reference.

Step Three

1956 Mom is happy to finally get to the high point of her day, the sprinkling of the sugar! Oh what fun she will have!  But the fun doesn’t end there. She also gets to turn the strawberries over and over in the sugar for as long as her little arms will allow –giving nary a care to carpal tunnel syndrome — which, in 1956, hadn’t even been invented yet!

Step Four:

The next step is to pack the berries into a container. This step is  self-explanatory.  To find out more about things that are self-explanatory, 1956 Mom will have refer to previously issued government Bulletin No. 7 entitled The Government Explains Things That Are Self-Explanatory.

Step Five

Next 1956 Mom is going to need to press the lid on the container firmly making sure it’s on watertight — which means 1956 Mom will have to go to the garage, locate Father’s fishing gear, then find the nearest body of water in which to throw the container.  Then quickly fish it out, open the lid and check carefully for wet strawberries.  Phew! What 1956 Mom won’t do to kill the lonely hours of her day!

Step Six

Finally, 1956 Mom has made it to the very last step of her herculean strawberry freezing project.  It was touch and go there for a couple of hours!  But thanks to 1956 Mom’s perseverance, the only thing left to do now is label the containers with the name of the fruit (that’s easy . . . strawberries!) and the date she froze them.  For this, 1956 Mom will carefully pen  1 9 5 6.  Because if there’s one thing 1956 Mom knows, it’s her name!

Of course 1956 Mom might want to take a calligraphy class first to kill a few more hours of her lonely day — but that’s another government issued bulletin for another government issued day!

Until next time . . . I love you

The Further Wackadoodle Adventures of 1956 Mom

Linda Vernon 1950's, Wackadoodle Adventures of 1956 Mom , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dear Readers, here are some more tips from the pages of this 1956 Betty Crocker Cookbook (see earlier tips here) that I got at — guess where? That’s right! The thrift store!

Anyway, I noticed when compiling these tips that the “tip section” is prefaced by this cheerful poem written to inspire 1956 Mom to keep working like a dog no matter what!

If you’re tired from overwork,

Household chores you’re bound to shirk

Read these pointers tried and true

And discover what to do

–1956 Edition of Betty Crocker’s Picture Cook Book

As you can see, comfortable clothing for 1956 Mom consisted of a pencil skirt, and apron tied tight enough to cut off circulation to the kidneys and shoes that one’s heel didn’t fit into.

Which was a big improvement over the comfortable clothes Betty Crocker suggested for 1955 Mom which was a sturdy pair cactus needle pedal pushers, a cardigan sweater woven entirely of straw and wooden clogs.

Oh that Betty! She knew 1956 Mom needed to conserve her energy so that she could keep working from the crack of dawn to the stroke of midnight and what better way than to alternate sitting and standing!

If you look closely at the big roller that 1956 mom is operating, it looks as though she may have inadvertently flattened her right arm! 1956 Mom is still smiling though because she got to be sitting down while she was doing it!

Frankly, when giving this tip, Betty Crocker seemed to be slacking off a bit by leaving off both the illustration and the punctuation –but hey, maybe she was trying to get 1956 Mom to use her own imagination for once.

Well, at least Betty managed to assign “head work” for 1956 Mom while 1956 Mom keeps her hands busy dusting, sweeping and washing! For instance, 1956 Mom can be planning family recreation or planning the garden or planning how she will run away from home and never ever come back.

As you can see in this tip, Betty Crocker is pointing out to 1956 Mom that with a little planning and organizing, she can train her family to help with different jobs.

Young children can clear the table or, perhaps, get a job in the textile mill down the street for 12 hours a day; while the older ones can cook or, perhaps, plow the fields and chop wood til the sun goes down because Betty Crocker knows that chances are the Child Protective Services of 1956 will more than likely never know.

That Betty has a heart as big as all get out! Just when 1956 Mom cannot wash one more dish or vacuum one more floor or think up one more plan for her family’s recreation, Betty Crocker has suggested that 1956 Mom actually sit down and close her eyes and just relax her muscles!

That’s right 1956 Mom. Betty Crocker says it’s OK to let your arms, hands and head fall limp. There now. Don’t you feel better now 1956 Mom? . . . .1956 Mom? . . .   1956 Mom answer Betty!  . . .

Hmm . . . apparently 1956 Mom is too tired to revive just yet — but rest assured Betty Crocker will keep trying . . . for there are so many more household chores still to be done!

And for crying out loud, she hasn’t even started the cooking yet!

Until next time . . . I love you just as much as Betty Crocker does

The Taffy May Incident

Linda Vernon 1950's, Pets , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Hello Dear Readers.  Is it Lazy Friday Rerun Blog Day already?  OK!  Who am I to argue with the calendar!  (except I do think a week should have 8 days and 3 of them should be a three-day weekend –  but apparently my calendar wouldn’t give me the time of day.)  Here’s today’s rerun:

Taffy May I Hardly Knew Ye

When I was a little girl, the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow was a horse.

I had no preference as to style, make or model.  If it had four legs and knew how to gallop, I’d take it!  We lived in a small town smack dab in the middle of an ocean of wheat, so there were lots of girls who had horses and rode them everywhere.  It would rip my heart out to see a gaggle of girls atop their sterling steeds clip clopping all over town.

“Clip clop clip clop clip clop clip . . . etc.”

I really only voiced the question of my getting a horse to my parents a couple of times, knowing full well that the answer would be no, and, as a matter of pride,  I’d ultimately have to run away from home or –at the very least — stage a runaway as in the following true scenario:

“Look at this Janey,” my father remarked to my mother, “I found Linda’s yellow shorty pajamas in this little 45-record case in the bushes just outside her window when I was mowing the lawn.”

Oh I was going to run away alright . . . eventually.

Ok, fine . . . if I wasn’t going to get a horse, at least I could try for a kitten.  This is how I went about it: 

Step 1:  Convince my parents that I was head over heals in love with cats.  To accomplish this,  I colored umpteen pictures of kittens and scotch taped them to my circa 1959 pink wall.

Step 2:  Wasn’t even needed because Step 1 worked like a charm.  Next thing I knew I was picking out my very own gray, long-haired kitten from a batch of five.

In my excitement, I failed to notice that this particular kitten had issues.  It suffered from the world’s lowest kitty IQ.   Maybe that’s why the name I chose, Taffy May, seemed to fit her so well.

Taffy May was the perfect cat for a little girl to bond with.  Being nearly brain-dead, she allowed me to pick her up and carry her around without protest. 

She slept with me all night under the covers which I thought was because she loved me so —  but more likely she just couldn’t figure a way out.

Taffy May had one batch of kittens – if three can be considered a batch.  But being the little dummy that she was, she managed to lie on all three of them during the night and  in the morning the only one left breathing was my beloved, Taffy May.

Perhaps it was Karma (I know there was a car involved) the day Taffy May shuffled off this mortal world.

I was on my way home from school without a care in the world.  When I rounded the corner, there stood our across-the-street neighbor, Mr. Huey, holding a lifeless Taffy May up by the tail.

I don’t know how many times Taffy May had been run over, but judging from the fact that she was literally as flat as a pancake, it would be safe to assume more than once. 

I screamed and ran into the house where I was inconsolable well into the night.  I never got another cat of my very own, out of respect for Taffy May, who will always have a place in my heart . . . about two feet wide and one and one-half inches deep.

Until next time . . . I love you

Strange and Eerie Unexplained Jello Phenomenon

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I was just wandering around in reality as I used to know it, hanging out at my favorite thrift store and going about my life as though the laws of physics still applied, when suddenly I came across this little know pamphlet depicting in great detail, the forbidden knowledge of the strange and eerie Unexplained Jello Phenomenon.

Gulp!

Oh sure, on the surface this little cookbook looks perfectly harmless:

Cookbook for Jello
Joys of Jello? Well that’s what they would LIKE us to think anyway.

And I’m sure innocent 1950’s moms bought it because they wanted to whip up a big ol’ batch of innocent Jello for their big ol’ innocent 1950’s families.

But lurking inside these mild-mannered pages are mysteries so unexplainable, so counterintuitive, so very very hard to explain that it just isn’t explainable no matter how many thesaurus’ a person owns (btw, I only own one thesaurus — as you may have guessed already).

Anyway, getting back to the strange and eerie Unexplained Jello Phonomenon. Let’s start with Exhibit A, shall we?

Obviously the government or something eerily government-like wants us to believe this is Jello.

Please!  It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that this is actually a bona-fide real-life UFO that is obviously utilizing the thrust from an ion antimatter, strawberry propulsion system so that it can zip around planet earth causing havoc all OVER the place . . . hello! 

And if that isn’t enough to convince you that the laws of physics as we know them are totally bogus, may I present, as further evidence,  Exhibit B:

Jello? Are you kidding? Do I really look that naive?

I hate to be the one to have to break it to you, but this seemingly ordinary Jello Upside Down Cake, isn’t fooling anybody (except for maybe you, sorry).  

For  this, Dear Reader, is actually a crop circle.  A crop circle depicting the most beautiful and profound mathematical equation in the history of arithmetic, or failing that, in the history of Upside Down Cake.

As a matter of fact, this crop circle calculates the exact date the world will end while, at the same time, managing to make your mouth water.  And if that’s not proof of cool, other-worldly intervention, I don’t know what is. 

 And now for the final proof.  May I present: Exhibit C.  An exhibit, I might add, that puts the ex in hibit like nobody’s business.  See for yourself:

Can this get any more self-explanatory?

This strange and eerie Unexplained Jello Phenomenon is so blatantly obvious, so glaringly conspicuous, so flagrantly in your face, that I absolutely refuse to  insult your intelligence by explaining it. 

Besides I only own one thesaurus.

Until next time . . . I love you

 

The Wackadoodle Adventures of 1956 Mom

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1956 Betty Crocker Picture Cook Book

In 1956 Betty Crocker Cookbooks not only cared deeply about 1956 Mom’s cooking; they cared deeply about her life.  As proof, here’s some hints from the “Special Helps” section.

Let’s start with this little gem of a helpful hint:

woman lying on the kitchen floor relaxing

Apparently in 1956, it was perfectly acceptable for Mom to lie down on the kitchen floor to  relax and/or fall asleep for as long as 3 to 5 minutes without anyone thinking she was completely out of her gourd.
It’s not clear if this odd form of  “relaxation” was reserved only for the kitchen floor or if one might come across 1956  Mom relaxing on, say, the floor of the Post Office or while waiting in line at the bank.

But a wise 1956 Mom would have  kept this handy little tip bookmarked should  she ever need to explain to dinner guests why they  found her lying down on the kitchen floor after sampling,  god forbid,  one too many Brandy Alexanders.

1956 Mom gets all her thoughts from Betty Crocker!

Woman thinking about activities such as sailling, relaxing on a desert island, golfing and dancing.

Not only does Betty Crocker want 1956 Mom to harbor pleasant thoughts while scrubbing the kitchen floor so clean she’ll be able to lie down on it for 3 to 5 minutes, she is even giving 1956 Mom some suggestions about what these thoughts might be.

Such as relaxing on a tropical island for instance.  Or dancing one-legged with a guy whose center of gravity is somewhere around his knees.

Or maybe 1956 Mom could distract herself from her work by thinking about  a sailboat with a dangerous starboard list that perhaps the guy with the low center of gravity just happens to be sailing on.

But chances are what 1956 Mom thought was the pleasantest of all these suggestions was thinking about  her husband holding her golf bag  waist-high for her while  she leisurely takes thousands and thousands and thousands of practice swings.

If only 1956 Mom could find a kitten in a tree . . . it would be hilarious!

1956 Illustration of woman coaxing a kitten out of a tree

This tip is a little more tricky, however.  Betty Crocker is only suggesting 1956 Mom find a kitten in a tree so that 1956 Mom will have something —  anything to talk about — besides relaxing on the kitchen floor and  thinking about cookbook-suggested topics.

This is just a suggestion because searching for a kitten could be dangerous to 1956 Mom’s health.  Obviously, it took 1956 Mom hours and hours of uninterrupted hiking to happen upon a kitten in a tree.

Which means by the time 1956 Mom found the kitten in the tree, she was horribly emaciated and her waist had dwindled from its normal  circumference of 7 inches to a measly 5 and 3/4 inches.

Of course, maybe it was well worth it because, in the end, 1956 Mom did  have a wonderful story in her brain about finding a kitten in a tree to tell to her family at dinnertime and — when the time was right — she managed to tell her story with good humor and aplomb.

It was a story that her family would  have found uproariously funny too had they not already left the room.

Until next time . . . I love you

The Government’s Secret String Bean Agenda

Linda Vernon 1950's, Edible Tales , , , , , , , , ,

Hey look what I got for only 23 cents!

Now I know you’re thinking how hard up for fun does a person have to be to go to a thrift store and come home with: Home Freezing of fruits and vegetables (bulletin 10) by the U.S. Department of Agriculture circa 1957 and be pleased as punch about it?

I am.  I did.  And I was.

Back in 1957, everybody who was anybody was into freezing food.

It was practically a national pastime for heaven sakes!  My parents didn’t own a home deep freezer, so they  rented a space in the walk-in freezer at Blower’s Grocery Store. I think I was about six years old, and I remember my mother giving us a lecture each week as she stood outside the Blowers big freezer door.

Here's Mom in the Freezer Halcyon Days

“Now, I’m going in kids.  I want you to wait out here for me.  If I don’t come out soon, go tell Mr. Blower, in case I get locked in.”

“Can we come in too Mommy?” we always pleaded.

“Absolutely not!  You’re small. You could freeze to death.”

Checking to see if limbs are operable
Here's Mom making sure my limbs haven't frozen solid.

Then my mother would assume her head-up, shoulders-back, pioneering-woman stance, open the door to Blowers walk-in freezer and march in like a brave soldier who didn’t hold out much hope of returning alive.

After a few seconds, she’d reappear with a several cuts of meat wrapped in white butcher paper and was always bitterly disappointed at what cuts of meat she managed to grab without getting frostbitten (or something unimaginably worse).

I think my parents might have bought the wrong side of beef –the one without the steaks – because I never heard her say, “Oh goody! Steaks.”

Anyway getting back to my fabulous 23 cent find.  I know that life was more structured in the 50’s, but these GOVERNMENT ISSUED INSTRUCTIONS for freezing string beans make you want to get into a time machine and put a flaming bag of poo on Mamie Eisenhower’s front porch.

Here’s Mamie poised but obviously preoccupied about her string beans

This is how the U.S. Department of Agriculture strongly suggested its female citizenry freeze  string beans in 1957:

Step one:

Ok, they are giving you some leeway here.  1- or 2-inch pieces.  But . . . you must line them up EVENLY first.  And then sliiiiide them all over with the knife to the others — making sure they are Even Steven at all times. AT ALL TIMES!!

Step Two:

You cook the beans and then you PLUNGE  them into cold water to stop the cooking. Don’t ever ever ever just SET them in cold water, they will just keep cooking and cooking and cooking like they’ve been exposed to a radioactive isotope (which, in the 50’s, wasn’t as rare as you might imagine) and we know what happens when that happens.  Radioactive 1- or 2-inch pieces of KILLER STRING BEANS!

Step Three:

This is important now so pay attention.  Don’t even try this unless you have a GOVERNMENT ISSUED String Bean Bag Stand and a Green Bean Funnel.  How else would you put them in the bags for freezing in a home freezer?  Surely not with your bare hands? Frankly, the U.S. Department of Agriculture is practically sick to its stomach that it would even have to mention this.

Step Four

Ok, do you see this?  You must have your string (not to be confused with string beans) precut into what looks like approximately 2- or 2 and 2/16th’s  inches of string placed no more than ¾’s of an inch from the outside of your little finger.

Head space is also quite important.  Because apparently in the 50’s string beans had heads for which one must alott space . . . and if those bags get brittle? Uh Oh.  It’s not going to be pretty.  President Eisenhower might have to send over Mamie to pay you a little visit.

And you don’t even want to know why they called her Mamie.

Until next time. . . I love you

The Wackadoodle Adventures of 1956 Mom

Linda Vernon 1950's , , , , , , , ,

1956 Betty Crocker Picture Cook Book

In 1956 Betty Crocker Cookbooks not only cared deeply about 1956 Mom’s cooking; they cared deeply about her life.  As proof, here’s some hints from the “Special Helps” section.

Let’s start with this little gem of a helpful hint:

woman lying on the kitchen floor relaxing

Apparently in 1956, it was perfectly acceptable for Mom to lie down on the kitchen floor to  relax and/or fall asleep for as long as 3 to 5 minutes without anyone thinking she was completely out of her gourd.It’s not clear if this odd form of  “relaxation” was reserved only for the kitchen floor or if one might come across 1956  Mom relaxing on, say, the floor of the Post Office or while waiting in line at the bank.But a wise 1956 Mom would have  kept this handy little tip bookmarked should  she ever need to explain to dinner guests why they  found her lying down on the kitchen floor after sampling,  god forbid,  one too many Brandy Alexanders.

1956 Mom gets all her thoughts from Betty Crocker!

Woman thinking about activities such as sailling, relaxing on a desert island, golfing and dancing.

Not only does Betty Crocker want 1956 Mom to harbor pleasant thoughts while scrubbing the kitchen floor so clean she’ll be able to lie down on it for 3 to 5 minutes, she is even giving 1956 Mom some suggestions about what these thoughts might be.Such as relaxing on a tropical island for instance.  Or dancing one-legged with a guy whose center of gravity is somewhere around his knees.Or maybe 1956 Mom could distract herself from her work by thinking about  a sailboat with a dangerous starboard list that perhaps the guy with the low center of gravity just happens to be sailing on.But chances are what 1956 Mom thought was the pleasantest of all these suggestions was thinking about  her husband holding her golf bag  waist-high for her while  she leisurely takes thousands and thousands and thousands of practice swings.

If only 1956 Mom could find a kitten in a tree . . . it would be hilarious!

1956 Illustration of woman coaxing a kitten out of a tree

This tip is a little more tricky, however.  Betty Crocker is only suggesting 1956 Mom find a kitten in a tree so that 1956 Mom will have something —  anything to talk about — besides relaxing on the kitchen floor and  thinking about cookbook-suggested topics.This is just a suggestion because searching for a kitten could be dangerous to 1956 Mom’s health.  Obviously, it took 1956 Mom hours and hours of uninterrupted hiking to happen upon a kitten in a tree.Which means by the time 1956 Mom found the kitten in the tree, she was horribly emaciated and her waist had dwindled from its normal  circumference of 7 inches to a measly 5 and 3/4 inches.Of course, maybe it was well worth it because, in the end, 1956 Mom did  have a wonderful story in her brain about finding a kitten in a tree to tell to her family at dinnertime and — when the time was right — she managed to tell her story with good humor and aplomb.It was a story that her family would  have found uproariously funny too had they not already left the room.

Until next time . . . I love you