"a magnificent household manual"
A few years ago I started researching my family history and began the process of getting touch with relatives with whom we had all lost touch. This included a cousin in Tasmania and her family, and more cousins in Derbyshire whom I now refer to as Long Lost 1 and Long Lost 2. My delight at finding these, and other, relatives knows no bounds as they are all genuinely delightful and I will do an article about the basics of family history research at a later date.
When I told LL1 and LL2 about The Wartime Housewife, they very kindly lent me a book which the husband of Tasmanian Cousin had printed in the late 60’s/early 70’s, although the look and tone of it is more 50’s. It rejoices in the name “At Home with Marjorie Cooper – A Household Manual”. The cover announces that it includes:-
Cooking, Slimming Recipes, Health and Beauty, Diabetic Aids, Beverages, Household Hints, Tips for Show Cooks, Knitting and Handicrafts, Party Foods and Games, Gardening, Animal Care, Ideas for Christmas and Poems.
Mrs Beeton eat your heart out. This is a book for people who have no-one to ask and may not even have m/any other books. My cousins went out there in 1947 and, after years of struggle, built their own house on stilts and established a life for themselves. They were incredibly isolated from everything and everyone they knew and amenities were at an absolute minimum. Even now, her son’s address is something like ‘R888, Pioneer, Tasmania’. Er, that’s it.
This book has everything (including a paragraph on how to look after ‘Baby ‘Roos’) and, as I try out some of the recipes and advice, I will share them with you. This was also a time when she thought nothing of putting named photos of her grandchildren and her home address and telephone number in the book. How times change!
I love the idea that The Wartime Housewife could be this sort of resource. Although few of us experience the kind of isolation my cousin endured, our modern day isolation is just as real. Many people have completely lost touch with the skills and resourcefulness that came naturally to some of our parents and definitely our grandparents, and often we are not geographically close to our families who would, at one time, have handed their skills and advice to us. Most of us have lost the understanding that the work we do in the home and with our families (men and women) has a very high value indeed and should be applauded.
I will leave you with some extracts from her introductory letter.
“I try all things; I achieve what I can because nothing in this world is as good as usefulness”
“.. remember it is not work that kills men; it is worry. Work is healthy… worry is rust upon the blade”
“There is only one success – to be able to spend your life in your own way”
“So much to do, so little done by some”
This is followed by a long chapter on Soup.
My kind of woman.
Wartime Housewife 
Isolation is a very big topic in today’s world. The closer we live together, the more isolated we are (and choose to be) from our neighbours.
My father lives in a small island in the Orkneys, where everyone knows everyone’s business. ON the one hand, it feels slightly claustraphobic, but on the other it means real help is at hand.
When my mother died in 2003, her body was found within half an hour of her being late for teaching. Her absence was noted. The light still being on outside her house was recalled, and a search party went to find her.
By contrast, my elderly neighbour across the road could lie dead for three weeks without anyone noticing, because we do not especially communicate. Not that we don’t, but that neighbourly interaction just does not exist so much down here (and yes, I know I should get more involved, but somehow I don’t).
I read somewhere it’s because we are so geographically close in towns and cities that we deliberately create emotional space around us. I suppose that could be it.
It’s interesting isn’t it Morag? I am an escaped Londoner and, as a young person, one of the things I loved about it was the anonymity; no-one knew what I was doing, or to whom, unless I chose to tell them. Although I enjoyed it, I always wanted to live in the countryside and one of the things I love about it is the neighbourliness. However, where I am now, people are caring but not nosey. At my last house no-one gave a toss but everyone knew what I was doing and talked among themselves. I wouldn’t mind but I didn’t do anything worth talking about! Now back in London……!
But even now, given half the chance, I would live in splendid isolation, a mile away from my nearest neighbour, as long as I had a car. This would be very unfair on my children though, who love living in a village.
I lived in a small village in The Dales; I was inhabitant 98. It was ghastly.
I worked in a small market Town in N.Yorks; population 2000. It was worse – a more poisonous lot would be hard to imagine.
I now live in a small village on the edge of Thetford Forest. I am inhabitant 1572 (or thereabouts). Different people entirely. I love it.
There’s no moral to this – only that there are more horse’s arses than horses – and you never quite know where they will crop up!
It’s interesting isn’t it, and sometimes you instinctively know if you’re going to like a place and fit in. The cottage I’m in is far from perfect but I love it and I get the feeling it likes me. I’m not convinced about the horses arses though. I’m a bit Pollyanna-ish in my enthusiasm for people and find that, on the whole, most people are great. I sometimes fall on my own arse though, when I’m so keen to focus on the redeeming qualities in someone that I fail to see that they are, in fact, a complete and utter horses arse.
What I really like about writing this blog, is that I never know in what direction it’s going, and I’m always interested in what people pick out of an article. Do you find that? Very stimulating.
Hello Wartime Housewife
Another Long Lost from your life – a long lost friend in Australia! I have stumbled across both your blog, and the Father of your Children’s blog, and am LOVING reading them both.
Glad all is well with you and The Boys, hope to chat again soon. xxxx
Darling Lou Lou! How wonderful to hear from you! Another fan from down under – hurrah! I will e-mail you personally if you don’t mind as I would so love to catch up and hear all your news (not tonight though as I still have at least an hour’s ironing work to do – growl). I have often asked if anyone has heard from you, but answer came there none. Isn’t the internet wonderful?
With much love xx
Yes, I would love to hear from you!
Keep ironing, get some sleep and we’ll speak soon.
xxxx