18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Monday, February 16, 1914: Guess I’ll be kept like a prisoner this week, at least at the first part.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Sounds like Grandma was going to need to wait another day to get her valentine. Two days previously she wrote:
Looked forward to a valentine this morning, but no mail carrier came as the roads were rendered impassable from the snow storm. The snow lies 18 in. deep on the ground.
Even though Grandma doesn’t mention anything about how the snowstorm affected the farm operations I can’t help wondering what her father was thinking and doing.
The Muffly’s had several cows. They would have stored the milk in the milk in cans—and may have enough cans to hold several days’ worth of milk. But it seems like Grandma’s father would have been panicking that the milk would spoil if he didn’t get it to market soon.
milk can (photo source: Grant-Kohrs Ranch National Historic Site)
When I was a child growing up on a dairy farm, we always had to the get farm lane open within two days of a snowfall so that the milk truck could get in to take the milk to market.
My father would sometimes work day and night to clear the lane (and to keep it open if the snow was drifting). If the milk truck couldn’t get in, the tank where we stored the milk would be totally filled and we would have needed to start dumping milk.
(I digressed enough. Back to Grandma’s story–another possibility is that the Muffly’s didn’t need to regularly get milk to market because they only sold butter made from the cream, and that they fed all of the skim milk to calves or pigs.)
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, February 15, 1914: Didn’t get to Sunday School this morning as the road is not much broken. Felt quite vexed about it as I didn’t want to miss more than what I could possibly help.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
. . . the roads were rendered impassable from the snow storm. The snow lies 18 in. deep on the ground.
What does “the road is not much broken” mean? If I had to take a guess, I’d guess that not many horses had traveled over it yet—so the snow was not tramped down (broken); but I’m not really sure.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, February 14, 1914: Looked forward to a valentine this morning, but no mail carrier came as the roads were rendered impassable from the snow storm. The snow lies 18 in. deep on the ground.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Oh dear, no mail. . . and since it was a Saturday it will be two days until Grandma gets her valentine. Who was Grandma expecting to get it from?
This diary entry makes me realize that times have changed. . . and not changed . . . in some unexpected ways over the past century.
In 2014, like 1914, due to the snow emergencies in many locations across the United States, lots of mail carriers probably are unable to deliver the mail . . . however, most young people today probably don’t care that it isn’t getting through since they already got their valentines via Facebook, email, or texting.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, February 13, 1914: Went to town this afternoon to get some things for a box social. Besse gave me two doggies to slip in Ruth’s box when she wasn’t looking. Almost froze my right hand or rather it got pretty cold coming home.
Well, while Ruthie was eating her supper, I slipped upstairs with her box, undid the wrapping, lifted the lid, and in went the doggies, and brought the box back without arousing suspicions.
The box social and entertainment which we attended was out at her school. There wasn’t much of a crowd there, as it was snowing.
Source: Wikimedia Commons
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Good grief, Grandma. . . How could you????
—
Who got Ruth’s box? And, whose face turned redder when they opened it?. . . Ruth’s or the guy’s?
Box socials always make me think of the musical Oklahoma. The girls prepared beautiful box lunches with enough food for two that were then auctioned off to raise funds for the school or some charity.
Grandma’s sister Ruth was a teacher at a one-room school house near McEwensville. Grandma’s older sister Besse was married to a butcher, and Besse must have given her two hot dogs. (Did they have hot dogs a hundred years ago?)
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Thursday, February 12, 1914: Cut a gash an inch long, while drying the dishes, in my hand.
Picked out nuts for a cake. Ruthie made it. It got most too stiff. Could hear her rumbling and grumbling about it for half an hour afterwards at least.
Source: Ladies Home Journal (February, 1914)
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
How the heck did Grandma get a one-inch gash while drying dishes? I don’t think that I’ve ever been injured while drying dishes.
Maybe Grandma treated her injury with Carbolated Vaseline. It was a popular ointment a hundred years ago.
Nuts and Nut Cake
What kind of nuts was Grandma picking out—black walnuts? . . .butternuts? . . hickory nuts?
Several previous posts that you might find interesting include:
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Wednesday, February 11, 1914: Spent the afternoon doing some walking. One of Ruthie’s important errands.
Did Grandma walk to McEwensville?
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
What errand did Grandma run for her sister Ruth? . . . shopping? . . . returning a borrowed item? . . .
Ruth was a teacher at a one-room school house near McEwensville, so she probably was at work—and needed her sister (who worked at home on the farm) to run the errand.
