Peculiar Directions for Resuscitation from 1861

Swimming is an old art dating back to prehistoric times. In ancient Rome, it was an insult to say that someone was unable to swim. In the Middle Ages, knights were also expected to be able to swim but by the 1700s, few people knew how to do so. The strict clothing laws of the time deterred people from learning to swim and it soon lost favor. Stories of sea monsters, such as the Ogua in Pennsylvania (a 20 ft river monster who dragged deer into the river,) were also said to be used to deter people from the water. Even many sailors in the 1700s, could not swim which caused a lot of unfortunate, unnecessary deaths. 

John Locke was an advocate for teaching children to swim because it was a common cause of death. Even though Benjamin Franklin taught himself to swim and is credited for inventing swimming fins at the age of 10, his brother drowned while still a child. John Quincy Adams' son drowned as well. In the early 1800s, bath houses in England were popular but were too shallow to need to swim.

By the 1850s, visiting beaches became more popular and although most people only wading in the water with heavy bathing costumes, just having an increased number of people near the water lead to accidents.

Godey's Lady's Book gave these peculiar directions for resuscitation in 1861:

I am not sure what pressing the back of the neck would do but sticking a bellows in someone's nostril is just something I think I would have trouble doing--especially for 8 hours as the medical practitioner mentioned in the article claims. I am glad that we can swim today without such cumbersome garments but I would like to see more modest swimming clothing come back into style. I'm not a fan of sunburn and think it is uncomfortable and awkward to walk around in a bathing suit without a cover-up.

My Tiny Little Garden

The weather has finally been nice a few days in a row. For a while it was steaming hot one day and we were wearing sweaters the next. I finally put some seeds in the garden. I know--it's very late. I don't grow things seriously, I just love growing things. I can't explain it. When Andy and I met, I had cucumbers in the garden that looked like a bunch of polliwiggles. (I guess it was a good conversation starter on our first date.) I am not a good gardener and I suffer from "Charlie-Brown-Tree Syndrome," which I inherited from my mother.

For those of you who do not know what that is, it is when you feel bad for a scrawny little half dead plant and feel that you need to tenderly nurse it back to health and restore its great potential. The syndrome kicks in when you are in the plant section of home improvement stores and you feel bad for that stick of a plant--you know, the one that was knocked on the ground, rendered dirtless, stepped on and denied water? Yes--we are the people who buy that plant (actually most stores are more than likely willing to give it to you.)

I still love to grow things regardless if they turn out pretty or at all. During the winter, I just get an itch to watch things grow. When summer comes along I just can't help but planting. I find it astounding the potential that exists in a tiny seed. A huge oak tree is  grown from a tiny acorn, it is amazing!

I decided to try square foot gardening this year. I have three matching 2'x4' boxes. The wood was originally going to be two 4'x4' boxes but then I had to move where I was going to put them. They still look nice even though I lost planting space. At some point I plan on getting more lumber and making a fourth box. (My parents asked me why I made squares in the garden. I told them it was so my mother would "farm" the plants when I was away. Is anyone else's mother addicted to that facebook farmville game?)

This is the first year in my lifetime that we have had wild bunnies come to our neighborhood. We also have two big groundhogs. I sometimes see the bunnies sitting next to the boxes even though there isn't plants in them yet-- they must have learned through experience that a wooden box means a bunch of good veggies. I don't mind I plan on only fencing two of the boxes and leaving the far one for the animals. If they get the rest of the plants, I won't mind too much.

I hope to be a more serious gardener in the future, possibly even growing all of my own produce, but that is years and years away. I admire people who get some kind of "crop" from their gardens. My only goal for this year is to grow enough Roma tomatoes to make some spaghetti sauce (gravy if you live in my house.)


*Note: The drawings are taken from the 1911 version of The Secret Garden, one of my favorite stories when I was little. 

Rue, an Herb of Days Passed

"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue for you; and here's some for me: we may call it herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died: they say he made a good end..." Ophelia in Hamlet

Common Rue is a small shrub native to Europe. It is a strong, bitter, herb and has been used for culinary and medicinal uses for hundreds of years. In Medieval times it was thought to ward off the plague, witches and lice and was used to treat snakebites. Later it was said to improve eyesight and creativity; it is said that many famous Renaissance artists ate it to improve their skills.Too much rue can poison a person but in the 1600s it was used as an antidote for poison. It was also used to cure arthritis. If you are cut, and touch it, blisters will form. It used to be used sparely in Middle Eastern foods and is currently used in Ethiopian dishes. It currently seen in European gardens as it creates neat hedgerows and is cropped easily.           

I am writing about rue today because, while at the living history farm a few weeks ago, someone handed a bunch of it to us ladies in the kitchen. He told us to hang it to deter mosquitoes.We both smelled it and touched it, wondering what it was and we hung it without a second thought. Later that day, one of our friends said "What is this doing in here where people can touch it?" in a surprised tone. He told us what it was and we ladies looked at each other in fear as we remembered all of the handling and smelling of the rue. None of us were harmed. It is said that some people are more apt to be affected by it than others. It's good to know we are a relatively hardy pack of women.

Currant Ice Cream Recipe from 1819

It was so hot today that Andy and I happily made some homemade ice cream. We made two kinds: a currant ice cream made from a recipe from 1819 and a modern coconut ice cream that we plan to serve in miniature pie shells.

In the 1800s, ice cream was typically served at parties in the form of an intricate mold. These molds were frequently in the shape of vegetables and bouquets of flowers. There were tons of different flavors, most using fruit flavors and mixes of fruit flavors. Can you imagine digging into ice cream that was molded so perfectly? During the Regency period, ice cream was put into small, shallow glasses and licked out like modern day edible cones. Some period intricate molds can be seen here.  

Ingredients:

-1 pint pureed currants

-1 pint heavy cream

-1 cup powdered sugar

We decided to take a modern shortcut on "pass them through a sieve" and decided to put them in a blender. What happens when we take modern short cuts? It doesn't work. :D For some reason the currants would not blend. After prodding at them enough and trying to blend them for a while, we noticed we had crushed them to a pulp anyway and used them as they were.  

We mixed the currants, sugar and cream and put it into our modern ice cream maker which works exactly like an 1800s model in practice, the only difference is that the maker is not hand cranked but uses electricity--thank goodness you'd have to have a lot of willing helpers to hand crank that long!




We waited until the ice cream couldn't mix anymore and then poured the ice cream in a plastic container and put it in the freezer.

This was the end result. It doesn't look as good in the photo but it tastes very sweet and is similar in taste to raisins. Now tomorrow I will put scoops of this ice cream into little glass dishes and I shall sit on the patio and pretend I'm Jane Austen. I would recommend this recipe because it is very simple. It only has three ingredients and doesn't require you to cook anything. Who wants to cook when its so hot out? 

We came across a really good ice cream recipe from 1855 if anyone wants to begin to make ice cream. It is more detailed than most period directions and offers alternative flavorings.

 We also came across a few flavors that we weren't anxious to try:

I hope you all stay cool tomorrow, it is supposed to be another hot, lazy day. I encourage some period ice cream desserts to help prevent heat stroke. :D

The Ugly Girl Papers, 1870s Beauty Advice

I came across the depressingly titled “Ugly-Girl Papers” This seems like something my mother would have given an awkward, gangly, thirteen year old me if we lived in the 1870s. I assume this book would be given as a gift because I can’t see any girl picking this up in a bookshop and not feeling a rush of embarrassment. She would then keep it, not on a bookshelf but wrapped up in a rag, tucked under her bed or hidden in a pantry, only to sneak peaks at it when her family is out. Most of the recipes and suggestions in this book include toxic chemicals such as ammonia, nitrate of mercury, sulfurous acid (a chemical found in acid rain,) and borax.

As much as this book tries to reassure the “ugly reader” that there is hope for her, it perpetuates a lie that is all too familiar to us today: “you are ugly and need products to fix you.” Makeup is fun and that is all it ever should be- no one should feel that they are not able to leave the house without caking pounds of makeup on their face. It really is upsetting to read this book; you can imagine the ladies of low self-esteem who heard enough lies that they put numerous poisons on themselves.  

It reminds me of the poem by Marge Piercy entitled “A Work of Artifice":

“The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he
whittles back the branches
the gardener croons,
It is your nature to be small and cozy,
domestic and weak;
how lucky, little tree,
to have a pot to grow in.
With living creatures
one must begin very early
to dwarf their growth:
the bound feet,
the crippled brain,
the hair in curlers,
the hands you

love to touch”





Some of excerpts from Ugly Girl Papers, some are sad to read, others are interesting to see how they used items: