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

Monday, November 30, 1914: <<no entry>>

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

A few weeks ago Dirndl Skirt made the following comment:

. . . For all the work you put into this, it might be nice to get personal feedback as to why people connected with it. And a bit of introspection on the part of your readers’ would probably reveal some interesting observations as well, for you and for us.

And, I’ve been really curious ever since.

So since Grandma didn’t write anything a hundred years ago today, I’d like ask you a question:

What brought you to A Hundred Years Ago? . . . and why have you kept coming back?

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

Sunday, November 29, 1914: Rufus had company today. Took their pictures over on the new bridge.

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

Grandma—Do tell, was your sister Ruth’s company male or female? (It’s been a long time since you’ve called her Rufus. Are you just a little bit jealous?)

And, did you take their picture on the bridge that goes over the creek that flows by your family’s farm? I can picture a really old bridge. Maybe it was new a hundred years ago–though I suppose that it’s been replaced several times over the course of the last hundred years.

 

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

Saturday, November 28, 1914: <<no entry>>

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

I recently came across this hundred-year-old description of soy milk. Since Grandma didn’t write anything a hundred years ago today, I thought you might enjoy reading it.

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

Thursday, November 19, 1914: <<no entry>>

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

Since Grandma didn’t write anything a hundred years ago today, I’m going to go off on a tangent—

Sometimes I’m surprised how thoughts of Grandma pop into my head at the least expected times.

Last week-end my husband and I had friends over for dinner. It was almost time for them to arrive and I still hadn’t set the table.

I pulled some cloth napkins out of a drawer-and thought with dismay—“Dang it, I’m going to have to iron them.”

Annoyed, I dragged my heavy ironing board out of the closet—and suddenly thought—”Did Grandma also dislike lugging this hefty ironing board around?”

This makes perfect sense because I have Grandma’s ironing board.

She passed many years ago. It was shortly after I got married, and I needed an ironing board. So when the grandchildren were given an opportunity to select items they would like from her house—one of the things I chose was the ironing board.

I’ve used the ironing board for more than 35 years. It’s probably 60 or 70 years old (and probably could easily last another 60 or 70 years).  I replaced the ironing board cover once a few years ago—but that’s it. It might be heavy, but it is also darn sturdy.

 

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

Wednesday, November 18, 1914:  Today passed as other days. A few flakes flew this morning. Wish the snow would get down to business, for then I wouldn’t have to look after the cows. Today they went off to a neighbors and I had to walk after them.

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

Hmm—apparently the cows were still out in the pasture, but after it snows they will be confined to the barn. During past summers Grandma mentioned several times that she needed to watch the cows. For example, on August 26, 1911, she wrote:

Everything seemed to have gone wrong today. Hard to tell what the cause really is. I have to watch the cows, and I don’t like it but school will soon start and then that task will be ended.

And, on May 18, 1912 she wrote:

What a doleful calamity. I had to watch the cows this morning, I mean this afternoon. I’m afraid that this is only the beginning. They got into the wheat for me.

This is the first time Grandma mentioned watching cows in the Fall in the diary—and I think that it’s the first time that she mentioned it in 1914.

I remain clueless as to why the cows needed to be watched. It still seems like they should have been securely contained in a field fenced with barbed wire, but obviously they weren’t (or if there was a fence it wasn’t strong enough).