Should Daughters Be Allowed to Go to the Beach?

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

June 18, 19, 20:  These days are filled with uneventful proceedings not worth mentioning.

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Source: Ladies Home Journal (August, 1913)

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

The summer doldrums continue—and it looks like Grandma didn’t even write in the diary for a couple days, and then just summarized her ennui on the 20th.

Did Grandma ever wish that she could take a fun holiday trip—say to the Atlantic Ocean?  . . . and did her mother worry about “young people today”?

Here’s a fun article I found in the August, 1913 issue of Ladies Home Journal:

How Much of This Do You Want Your Daughter to Share?

An Editorial in Pictures

The pictures on this page are taken from photos at the “bathing hour” on various public beaches that dot the Atlantic coast from Cape May to Cape Ann. They accurately indicate the free- and easy-familiarity that is continuous on these midsummer playgrounds from the opening of its season to the close.

Are the situations such as you would wish your daughter to have a share in, such as you would even have your daughter see? Where do you think such easy familiarity between the sexes—between the young of the sexes—leads?  Nowhere, do you say?  Would you be willing for your daughter to take a chance of such familiarity, leading—nowhere?  Yet that is precisely the chance thousands of American parents take when they permit their daughters unrestricted indulgence in the attraction of our public bathing beaches.

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Tired From Picking Strawberries

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Tuesday, June 17, 1913:  A feeling of weariness creeps o’er me, as a result of too much stooping yesterday.

Strawberries

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

I bet that Grandma was picking strawberries again. This is the third June that I’ve posted Grandma’s diary. This post makes me realize how much I’ve gotten into the ebb and flow of her life. She can merely write that she was tired from stooping–and I immediately think, “It’s June so she was picking strawberries.”

Diary entries in previous years suggest that a neighbor raised strawberries for sale and that Grandma was hired to pick them.

On June 12, 1911 Grandma wrote:

Started to pick strawberries this morning. Of course it will mean some early rising and loss of sleep, but just look at what I can earn.

And, the following year on June 10, 1912 she wrote:

This morning I picked berries and helped myself to some. I wonder if anyone saw me. . .

And, on July 1, 1912 Grandma felt rich:

Stopped picking strawberries today. All my earnings, about $4.00 in all, I still have and expect to keep until I spend them.

Didn’t Do Very Much (Again)

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Saturday, June 7, 1913: Didn’t do very much today, as there wasn’t very much to do.

Recent photo of the stream that flows through the farm Grandma grew up on. The old Muffly barn is in the background--and the cows were probably pastured in this field.

Recent photo of the stream that flows through the farm where Grandma grew up. If you look really hard, you can seen the house and barn through the trees.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Sigh . . . Nothing happened,  AGAIN???!!!??. . . Grandma must have done something a hundred years ago today.

This is the fourth day in a row that Grandma either wrote that there wasn’t anything worth writing about or that she didn’t do very much.

There are numerous places throughout the diary where Grandma indicated that nothing happened on a certain day –but  generally this type of entry was isolated and sandwiched between entries of more substance.

What was happening (or not happening) in Grandma’s life  in June, 1913 that made her feel like she had nothing to write about? Was she too tired to write because  she was working very hard on the farm? . . . or was she bored now that the excitement over her high school graduation was long past? . . .or . . .

Made a Fern Wreath

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Thursday, May 29, 1913:  I was very much disappointed this morning. I had planned where to go tomorrow with a friend and then received a letter saying she couldn’t come. I made a wreath this afternoon and hunted up some wild ferns.

Photo source: Wikimedia Commons

Photo source: Wikimedia Commons

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

It’s upsetting when friends cancel—but at least Grandma came up with a fun activity that hopefully took her mind off her disappointment.

Have you ever seen a fern wreath? I don’t think that I ever have and can’t quite picture what it would look like.  How long would it last?

A hundred years ago Memorial Day was celebrated on May 30, so Grandma may have made the wreath to take the cemetery for the upcoming holiday. I’ve always purchased wreathes to take to the cemetery.  How did people make them years ago?

Got Proofs of Graduation Photos

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Monday, May 5, 1913:  Got my proofs this morning. In one I look rather mad. Cleaned a closet this afternoon. Expect to get some more of it tomorrow.

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Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

It didn’t take Grandma long to get the proofs. Her graduation pictures were taken on May 1.

I love the pensive expression on Grandma’s face on the picture she selected. I wonder if she was pleased with this photo. . . and, what she looked like in the picture where she looked rather mad.

I hope that you don’t mind that I’ve posted Grandma’s graduation photo several times—but it seemed like it was such an important part of today’s diary entry and I didn’t want to make you dig through old posts to find it.

The Runaway Horse

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Wednesday, April 30, 1913:  I saw a horse running off this morning, and was rather shocked to see it land in a ditch, where it staid until it was yanked out.

The Runaway Coach by Thomas Rowlandson (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

The Runaway Coach by Thomas Rowlandson (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Runaway horses were scary and dangerous. I can remember elderly relatives telling stories at family gatherings when I was a child of people who were gravely injured by runaway horses. Fortunately, even though Grandma was shocked, it sounds like all ended well that morning.

Click here to see a fun, old, short, silent movie called The Runaway Horse that is available on YouTube.

The Day After

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Thursday, April 24, 1913:  I had no idea that I would be so tired. I guess last night was not too much for me. Went up to McEwensville this morning, but not to go to school, for that indeed is past for me. I got home just in time to see the girls off on the train. My presents still seem to be pouring in. This morning I got a dress by parcel post.

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Source: Ladies Home Journal (December, 1912)

Previously mentioned gifts included a gold hat pin and a handkerchief

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

Grandma might have been surprised that her graduation ceremony exhausted her—but I’m not. Major events are tiring!

Grandma’s two cousins came the previous day to attend the graduation—and now were returning home.

Who gave Grandma the dress as a graduation present?  .  . . a friend? . . .  relative?  Was it handmade   . . . or “store-bought”?

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