Oh, Connie Francis. Don’t you just love Connie Francis?
The song, the movie…In the age of #metoo and #timesup it seems important to explore the past to explain not only how we got here, but the emotional consequences of it. I wasn’t really intending to go here with this post. I’m not going to spend time exploring it further, just offering up pieces of evidence that this has been a long time coming.
There were so many great things about going to Grandma and Grandpa’s when I was a child. I would sit at the table in their eat-in kitchen while grandma was cooking something. The rainbows from the prisms she had in her window would dance across the walls. I could look out the window and see the tree that I loved to climb. Grandma would keep a stack of Mini Pages there for us to do. When we moved Grandma and Grandpa into assisted living last fall, I found the crayon box with my name on it from when I was a child. There were fewer colors then. But regardless of what my kids think, the world was not black and white.
The Mini Pages were, though. I found some things from the Mini Pages on the back of some of the recipes. Because I am unsure about copyright laws and all the stuff that goes along with it, I am providing a link to the the archived Mini Pages from 1981 about Thanksgiving. The Mini Pages were this amazing educational tool. There was information, puzzles, and recipes. (I’ve made some of those recipes, the feature hot dogs pretty heavily).
This is my quick version of the sketches:
I have amazing siblings. They are crazy talented and supportive. My sister is one of the nicest people I know. She constantly goes out of her way for other people. She actively tries to make the world a better place. My brothers almost have to be spoken about as one unit, but mostly because the world still confuses them. One of them works in energy efficiency and has published many articles and papers about the subject. The other works in theater. He is working on his first movie and is getting his first IMDB credit, or he would be, except somehow his brother is listed on IMDB instead. The twin curse…
Anyway, my brother suggested at one point that each of my siblings do a guest post for me. I readily agreed and mentioned that all they had to do was tell me what sort of recipe they wanted and I would hook them up with the goods. “What do you want? Entree? Dessert? Roasted Raccoon?” My brother jumped all over the idea of making a roasted raccoon. He attempted to source one. His friend actually came through. Unfortunately, making a movie and being away from an actual kitchen sort of put a damper on this. Well, that and the “ew” factor. As he was attempting to source a raccoon, he heard from multiple people about how sick eating raccoon had made them (probably because it wasn’t cleaned properly).
Regardless, I mentioned this recipe as a joke. I don’t actually expect that anyone will make it. If anyone does, I think I want to try it, but I’m unlikely to ever actually make this recipe myself.
I’m still waiting for them to actually get to the point of guest posting…(hint, hint). 
It’s Sunday. I didn’t menu plan or grocery shop yesterday. If I don’t do it today, I’m going to be behind all week. Although it looks like this list may be for some sort of party (or maybe to make frozen fruit salad) I just need basics.
I thought I had posted the recipe for frozen fruit salad, but I guess I didn’t. Guess that’ll be Tuesday’s post. If you are headed out to the store and want to do a cook along with me on Tuesday get the whipping cream, butter mints, and some nuts. If your pantry is stocked like a grandma’s, you should have everything else you need already.
Sunday evenings mean a bit of TV for a lot of families. Some people watch football, others watch movies. Whatever you are watching, wouldn’t it be better on a Rutherford? 
I don’t know from whence this article came, I don’t have the full article, I have no idea where it was published. With all of that aside, I would just like for you to pause for a moment and imagine what this young girl is going through. Take note that in this story, there is no boyfriend offering to help her out. This strong and determined girl feels like she has no other choice. You can judge, you can shame, or whatever it is you feel like you have to do. But before you do any of that, just take a glimpse of life through Mary’s eyes…
After years of working from home, I am starting back in an office. There should be no interruption in blog posts for the immediate future. My family still needs to eat, so I still need to cook. After expressing concern that my blog would suffer, my brother suggested that he do a guest post. That will be upcoming in November (hopefully). In the meantime, I will continue to post recipes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
While scanning recipes, I found this picture: 
Who in the world is Edna Ruth Bullock and what does it mean “Told Her Husband”? I decided to play Google detective and find out. I had no idea that I was about to embark on a very dark journey down a rabbit hole.
I didn’t do a lot of in depth research into this, but at 25, Edna was accused of killing her 27 year old husband, James in 1958. There was no evidence connecting her to the murder and she was not charged. However, she had been previously married a dentist named Dr Glennon Engleman. Engleman was eventually charged with at least 7 murders. Some things I read said that he seduced women, got them to marry men, and then killed the men for a share of the life insurance. Others said he was more of a hitman and just killed for profit. Regardless, I think I might be happy that I’ve got 5 months until my next dental appointment.
Wikipedia Article on Glennon Engleman
Article about the Movie “The Dentist”
As I paged through the recipe books and the loose recipes, I realized that me scouring over the recipes had the potential to damage them. In order to preserve the books in their current states, I started to scan every single recipe into my computer. Besides being better for the books, it also allows me to sort recipes by category and keep better track of which recipes I’ve used and which ones I haven’t.
And right now, I have the time.
For the first time in my life, I am a stay-at-home parent. I have been a parent for over 12 years and this is the first time that I have actually been at home all day, every day with my kids. I’ve gotten to get a lot of organization done around the house, really had a chance to assess the needs and figure out some systems, get the gardens figured out a little bit, you know, just stuff. I can see the need for a routine. I can see where I could’ve done better in the past. It’s a very different sort of challenge for me.
When I hang out with adults, I find myself downloading information onto them. I crave conversations where I’m not breaking up stupid fights, or teaching someone manners. I need to talk to people that have fully developed frontal lobes and have had a little life experience. I need to feel like I went to college for a reason and that my brain is being used. When I have a chance, I need to do something for me (like make old recipes and write about them) Which brings me to this.
As I scan recipes into the computer, I often read the backs of the newspapers and magazines and try to place the recipes in their proper place in history. Often it’s just snippets of things. I found a recipe with the showtimes at a theater for Aristocats. Quick check on IMDB told me that the movie came out in 1970. Suddenly the recipe meant a lot more. I have one recipe whose back discusses the funeral for an astronaut, another that mentions the Civil Rights Act of 1964. These recipes all have roots.
Anyway, back to the original point of this whole thing. I found this on the back of one of the recipes. Right now it speaks to me. No idea when this was published or which newspaper. I could hazard a guess, but that’s not the point. Just take a second and read what is written, even in its incompleteness.
It would be easy to talk about sexism here. It would be easy to talk about wasted potential. I don’t have to do that because you already know. Being an actual housewife where you raise the children, where you clean the house and have supper on the table is a hard job. And this applies to men that do the job also.
Not to be ignored, however is the little blub in the second column. Were you aware that over half of vacuum cleaner attachments are not being used? I’m guessing that’s true even today. Maybe this is the sort of experiment the first column suggests we do?
