Going the whole hogmanay

Following on from your interest in Halloween Scots-style, I've turned my attention to one of the most significant of the Scottish celebrations - Hogmanay (or New Year's Eve) and once again I consulted my in-house experts on Scottish culture before our time, my Mum and my Aunt. For good measure, my (soon-to-be) 99 year old grandmother added her memories.

My Mum recalled:

When we were young Christmas day was not a holiday in Scotland as the Scots wanted their one day off to be New Year's Day - the day after Hogmanay (New Year's Eve). The house was thoroughly cleaned on Hogmanay - no self respecting Scot would go into a new year with dirt from the old year lurking around! Shortbread tins would be full, black bun was at the ready (black bun is a heavy fruit cake encased in a shortcrust pastry) and the whisky cupboard was well stocked!

Before midnight the floor would be swept again to make sure no dirt went into the new year and the ashes from the fire taken out and disposed of.

After the stroke of midnight the men of the house gathered up their 'gifts': shortbread and perhaps a couple of kippers to ensure that the houses they went to would always have food in the coming year, a lump of coal to put on the fire - for warmth in the coming year and a bottle of whisky to pour ' a wee dram' for good luck in the coming year. The first man over the doorstep on New Year's Day was known as 'the first fit (foot)' and everyone wished to have a tall dark and handsome man as they brought the most luck to the house.

New Year's Day dinner was similar to what we now have at Christmas.

Together, my Aunt and Gran reminisced:

On the 31st of December, the house was cleaned. Beds were changed, all the washing and ironing was done and shortbread and blackbun were baked. Just before midnight we would check again that everything was clean, the dishes were all done and the place was tidy. Moments before midnight, your Grampa would take out the ashes from the grate below the open fire.

At the stroke of midnight, we would wish everyone present a “Happy New Year” with hugs, kisses and shaking of hands. Your Grampa would pour everyone a drink , traditionally this was whisky but other drinks were given if preferred and shortbread and blackbun would be eaten while everyone would drink to the New Year.

First Footing was done just after midnight to neighbours and friends to wish them “A Guid New Year”. To go “first footing” you took whisky, a piece of coal, a coin and some shortbread or blackbun with you to give the household you were visiting wealth, warmth, nourishment and happiness for the next twelve months. You always knocked on the door, even if you knew them well, so that you were invited in. The darkest haired person entered first as this was thought to bring good luck to the household and you handed over your gifts and had a drink with everyone present.

On New Year's Day, the whole family would gather at the parents’ house for lunch. Anyone visiting would, of course, bring the first footing items with them, and as each group arrived the darkest headed always entered first. You always knocked on the door on these occasions, even if it was your family home, and waited to be invited in!

Traditionally in our house we always had roast goose or duck on New Year's Day with all the trimmings.

I'm not so sure about all this cleaning on New Year's Eve - although I can see the reasoning behind it. If the house at least starts the year clean and tidy, there is some hope of that continuing into the New Year!

A tradition I'm more than happy to maintain in our own household however, is the baking of shortbread. As far as I'm concerned, the festive season is not complete until I've consumed at least a bit of homebaked Scottish shortbread.

There are a number of variation on shortbread recipes. I use a simple recipe which has been the standard in our family since well before my time.
The recipe makes four large rounds, which are shaped by hand, marked with a fork and scored by knife (ready to be broken into wedges when cooked).



They come out of the oven when they are golden and full of buttery promise and are sprinkled with caster sugar while they are still hot.

With a cupboard full of these, how could it fail to be a good New Year?

Wishing you all wealth, warmth, nourishment and happiness for 2009. May the year be full of coins, coal, kippers and whiskey.

(And just a little shortbread too.)

Scottish Shortbread

250g caster sugar

500g butter

750g plain flour

• Leave butter out to soften a little, then beat (I use an elecric mixer) with sugar until light and creamy.
• Add half of the flour and beat in.
• Remove from mixer, and add remainder of flour with a wooden spoon.
• Knead the mixture on a floured board until smooth.
• Shape into rounds and place on a baking tray lined with baking paper. Thumb press the edges, prick with a fork, and score into eighths.
• Bake cakes for up to an hour in a pre-heated 160C oven - watch until they are golden brown.
• Remove from oven and while still warm, sprinkle with caster sugar.
• When completely cool, store in an airtight container.

Cookies that "stir" rather than "whirr" in the kitchen

Many Western Australians grew up learning to cook from either the Golden Wattle Cookbook or the CWA (Country Women's Association) Cookbook. We had both in my house. The CWA cookbook was first published in 1936 after a call was put out to all Western Australian branches for members to submit recipes. Recipes flooded in once members could put their name to their creations.

"...The recipes and hints contained in this book are all thoroughly reliable, and are in almost daily use in the home of the women who have contributed them. They are for the most part simple and economical, and within the reach of every intelligent Australian housewife." from the preface to the CWA Cookbook (1936 edition) by Agnes K. B. Barnes

As a child I would often cook from this book. Many of the recipes were simple and required only a bowl and a wooden spoon. Mum would keep old butter wrappers which would be used as cake tin liners and with this book I could make all manner of concoctions. You would have loved, I am sure, to have been the recipient of my layered green, blue and purple cake. Perhaps mum should've kept the food colouring in a more secure place...

I would love for my children to have the same freedom in the kitchen to cook, however I find myself having to set up all manner of machinery to help them cream butter and sugar, or to help them use the food processor. Not to mention the amount of washing up all that produces.

So when my 8yo son wanted to bake biscuits (AmE: Cookies) the other day I searched once more through the CWA cookbook (facsimile 1936 edition) for a simple recipe. We found this recipe from Mrs Brebner in Kellerberrin. I wonder was Mrs Brebner an American lady? It seems unusual to call this recipe cookies rather than biscuits.

This was a simple recipe needing only measuring, stirring, kneading, rolling and cutting. No machines that go "whirr" required. The only supervision needed was putting the cookies in the oven.

They tasted great.

And once finished it was only fitting that the washing up be done by hand as well.

I think we'll search out more simple recipes that go "stir" rather than "whirr".

Pucker up

"I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus, underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn't see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep."

"I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus" Music and lyrics by Tommie Connor.
Originally recorded by Jimmy Boyd. It reached #1 on the Billboard charts in 1952.

Every year for as long as I can remember, when we opened up the Christmas decorations box at my parents' house, we would find a small sprig of plastic mistletoe that had come from a larger bouquet of mistletoe given to my Mum by some of her college friends in Scotland. Apparently they had surreptitiously hung it from the roof of my Dad's car (How one would do that surreptitiously, I'm not sure.)

The mistletoe sprig from my childhood home.

Once we pulled it out of the decorations box, the mistletoe would be unobtrusively hung above a doorway, with the idea being that anyone caught under the mistletoe was fair game to be kissed.

Mistletoe is the common name for a group of hemi-parasitic plants in the order Santalales that grow attached to and within the branches of a tree or shrub. Mistletoe takes its sustenance from the branches and trunk of the host tree or shrub.

The tradition of kissing under hanging mistletoe at Christmas time has its origins in Druid and pre-Christian cultures. Mistletoe was believed to have significant, almost magical powers and was associated with fertility and sexuality. In Scandinavian countries it was a symbol of peace under which under which enemies could declare a truce, or miffed lovers could kiss and make up. It is from this that the tradition of kissing is believed to have arisen.

Which, when you think about it, is a most suitable concept for a festival that brings families and friends together, sometimes for the only time in the year. How appropriate to celebrate a symbol of open and forgiving affection over the festive season. Christmas is a time when people come together, and the tradition of mistletoe is a device to break down barriers and have a laugh.

My parents are all set for this Christmas with their plastic sprig of mistletoe, but for the rest of us, where can we obtain ours?

According to a recent article in The Guardian newpaper, this year's British mistletoe crop is a bumper one. Shoppers can expect to find it well-hung with 'sticky white berries held between suggestively splayed leaves'. Lucky Brits.

But here in Australia, we have a mistletoe-with-berries drought. I've always associated mistletoe with cold climates in the Northern Hemisphere but in fact, Australia is home to 85 species of mistletoe.

As I researched mistletoes and examined the photographs, I realised I even have one of my very own in the backyard, attached to a Silver Birch tree.

Mistletoe growing in a Silver Birch tree

(at least, I think it's mistletoe)

However, Australian mistletoe doesn't bear its berries at this time of year, so even if we adopted some of our tropical and sub-tropical species for the festive purposes, at our (summer) Christmas time, there are no berries on our mistletoes.

Which is a bit of a problem. The tradition of mistletoe is that each time someone is kissed under a fresh sprig, one of the berries should be plucked. When the branch is berry-bare, the kissing ceases.

In the Antipodes it appears kissing won't even get a chance to begin. So I vote that we ignore the berry-rule for Southern lands.

Do you hang mistletoe in your house?

Megan and I would like extend the heartiest of season's greetings to all our Before Our Time readers. Enjoy this special time of year with your friends and families. Travel safely. Sing lustily. Laugh loudly. Eat muchly.

And kiss beneath the mistletoe at every opportunity.

Apples with a few rough patches may be all the better for it

“This was Jo’s favourite refuge; and here she loved to retire with half a dozen russets and a nice book” excerpt taken from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

A short time ago my 10 year old daughter and I read Little Women together. I had forgotten what a lovely book it is so full of cues to the social arrangements and situations of Northern families during the American Civil War.

Our reading sessions are full of questions such as “why does she call her best dress a ‘poplin’?” or “What are rubbers?” (Well honey, in this context, they are a cover ladies wore over their shoes to keep them clean when they went outside) and, relevant to this discussion, “what are russets?”.

Russets are apples with reddish-brown roughened skins. The rough patches are called ‘russet’ and some varieties that are more prone to russetting (as it is known) are considered to be part of the ‘russet’ group. Russets are considered by many to be the best eating apples and were so well known in Louise May Alcott’s time that no explanation of what they were was necessary.

Russets are now rarely seen at mainstream supermarkets and fruit sellers as consumers demand only blemish-free shiny-skinned apples. This has contributed to fewer varieties of apple being available than in our grandparents’ time.

Do you remember eating apples with harmless blemishes as a child? One of my favourite childhood memories is stopping at well-known apple producing town, Donnybrook, Western Australia, on the way back from our summer holidays to pick up a large bag of apples. The apples would come complete with little rough brown bumps, which I would pick off with my fingernails. It was normal for an apple to have a rough patch which I don’t remember thinking was particularly unusual.

Now, however, I carefully pick over the Pink Ladies and the Fujis at the store to ensure the apples I take home are smooth, have even colour and have no lumps or bumps.

If we are to take a cue from heritage apple growers then perhaps we should seek out older varieties, such as russets, from farmer’s markets and experience, they say, a superior taste – something like our grandparents would remember.

*Image from http://www.telegraph.co.uk/gardening/main.jhtml?xml=/gardening/2007/10/16/garden-apple-cider116.xml

Stir Up Day

"In half a minute, Mrs. Cratchit entered -- flushed, but smiling proudly -- with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of a half a quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top."

from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Did anyone else ever wonder how poor Mrs Cratchit ever managed to put a plum pudding on the table for Christmas with her limited resources? Certainly anyone who has been out to buy the ingredients themselves would. This is not a quick, or cheap dessert and it is no wonder that making one, rather than buying one, has gone out of fashion.

As a Christmas traditionalist I say hang the cost and the time. A home-made Christmas pudding is an absolute must. I am not a big fan of fruit cake but once a year I gorge myself on this pudding (and the accompanying ice cream and custard).

Christmas pudding is an English christian tradition which harks back as early as the 15th century. At that time the puddings were served before a meal and contained meat (as did the traditional "mince meat" pie). From about the 18th century Christmas or plum puddings were an entirely fruit-laden affair, with suet (beef or mutton fat) as the symbolic remainder of its former self.

Before our time the Sunday before Advent was traditionally the last day a household would make its pudding before Christmas to give it time to hang and mature before the day. This day was called 'stir-up Sunday' and each family member would take turns to stir the pudding and make a wish. At this point silver coins and later charms may have been added to the mix for luck.

I completely missed this deadline.

This year I made the pudding on the second Sunday of Advent, no-one stirred the pudding except me and I didn't have any charms to put in (hint, hint). However, being a modern girl I boiled the pudding in my pasta pot so there was no messy or dangerous lifting of pudding basin from boiling water.

Poor Mrs Cratchit, she was placed in far more danger

"Hallo. A great deal of steam. The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day. That was the cloth." from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Hopefully my pasta pot creation will be a suitable substitute. And if not, at least a generous dose of brandy poured on the pudding and a well-lit match will create a spectacular end to the meal.

Do you make a pudding at Christmas? If not, what are your dessert traditions for the holidays?

Should we cast our nighted colour off?

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off.

W. Shakespeare (1564-1616) from Hamlet. Hamlet's mother/aunt asking him to stop wearing his dark funeral clothing after the death of his father

Funeral wear is such a sombre topic for this time of year so I apologise for mentioning it however I have been to three funerals in the last 14 months, the most recent yesterday, and this is a topic that is front of mind for many attending these ceremonies.

Before our time attendance at a western Christian funeral was governed by a strict dress code which reached it's height during the Victorian era following the death, in 1861, of Queen Victoria's consort, Prince Albert. After this period full black mourning dress became essential for the upper and middle classes and their service staff. For immediate family this form of dress was not only for the funeral but continued for up to two and a half years after the death. Children were often spared this dress code but may have had a purple or black ribbon attached to their clothing instead. Queen Victoria famously wore her "Widows Weeds" for the rest of her life.

In the second half of the twentieth century the funeral dress code relaxed. Fewer people wore mourning dress other than for the funeral itself and other dark or sombre colours such as navy, purple or grey became acceptable provided the clothing was conservatively styled. Prince Charles is said to have worn a navy suit to Diana, Princess of Wales' funeral because it was a suit she liked him to wear.

Today funeral etiquette guides advise attendees to wear conservative clothing in accordance with the grieving family's wishes or belief system. However, what do you wear if this is unstated or unclear? With the relaxation of dress codes comes ambiguity. How many of us really feel we know what is right to wear?

Having attended three funerals recently, and following discussion with other funeral attendees, I found that many agree that funeral attire depends on the context of each death that is being mourned. As such I have developed a personal guide to what I would wear for each context. This guide assumes that no specific dress code has been requested (eg. everyone wear football colours) and that the funeral is a western-style Christian ceremony, perhaps in a church or cemetery chapel. It also assumes the deceased is an adult.

• Tragic, sudden unexpected death (eg. from an accident) Black or very dark conservative clothing. Minimal accessories. Minimal makeup and waterproof mascara a must. Black in this scenario represents a shared sense of shock.
  
  
• Tragic, but not unexpected death (eg. long illness): Conservative primarily dark clothing, perhaps a touch of colour - especially a favourite colour of the deceased.
  


• Death from old age, expected, lived a long and happy life: Dress in a dignified style that reflects the individual's outlook. Still conservative styling, this is not a dance but a dignified memorial of a life long-lived. I have said to friends that if I manage to live a long life and die in summer - hold a wake in the garden and wear your prettiest floral dress, zimmer frame optional.

It is harder to know what children should wear. At a recent mid-week funeral of a much-loved friend with a young daughter the presence of her classmates dressed in school uniform (most Australian school students have uniforms) was lovely and dignified and reminded we adults that life goes on. Yesterday the 12 year old son of the deceased wore his football uniform and this year's premiership medal, as did the rest of his team. His father was the team manager and this was a touching symbol of his involvement with his children.

This is one 21st century girl's outlook on funeral wear. What do you think? Are there occasions where we should cast of our nighted colour, or should we get back to black as standard funeral wear?

Hold the mayo

“Mayonnaise sauce is best served separately in a tureen or sauce boat with the salad either cut up or the lettuce in pieces.”

Australian Enquiry Book of Household and General Information
for the Cottage, the Villa and the Bush Home
by Mrs Lance Rawson
first published by Pater & Knapton, in 1894.
Facsimile edition reproduced by kind permission
of the State Library of New South Wales, 1984, by Kangaroo Press

Mayonnaise is one of those foods that I’d always suspected probably tastes better if you make it from scratch, but I’d never actually done so. Then I spotted a recipe for it in Mrs Rawson’s book. (The instructions in italics under each photo are Mrs Rawson’s)

Ingredients: 3 or 4 eggs, 3 teaspoonfuls salad oil*, 1 teaspoonful vinegar, pepper, salt.

Strain the yolks of the eggs into a basin, and set it in a cool place – in the ice chest if you have one.

(well, yes Mrs Rawson...I am somewhat fortunate, and I do indeed have an ice chest. Although they're called refrigerators now.)

Let it stand an hour or two, and then take a spoon and begin to stir round and round (not to beat).

Add salt, stirring well; then a few drops at a time of the salad oil. The quantity of oil depends on individual taste; some people like a lot of oil.

When half the oil is well mixed, put in in the same way some good vinegar and keep adding oil and vinegar in these proportions until you get sauce the thickness of thick cream, then add pepper and more salt, if necessary.

The oil and vinegar must be added by degrees or they will not blend smoothly and the amount of both will depend upon the quantity of sauce, and also the consistency you like it.

At this point I abandoned the good counsel of Mrs Rawson. The mayonnaise was looking a little like beaten egg yolks and tasted just like them too.

So I took to the bowl with a whisk to lighten the colour and aerate the mixture.

To deal with the lack of taste, I added the juice of half a lemon.

And a teaspoonful of Dijon mustard.

I used the finished mayonnaise on a Waldorf salad. In spite in their initial skepticism, the household’s verdict was that it was worth the effort involved. I'm not sure it would meet with the approval of mayonnaise purists, but we thought the taste was more acceptable with the addition of the lemon and mustard.

* Salad oil is any edible vegetable oil: corn oil, peanut oil, sunflower oil, olive oil etc. I used an Australian extra virgin olive oil.

This 21st Century Girl loves a seasonally inappropriate Christmas

“I have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company of children assembled round that pretty German toy, a Christmas Tree. The tree was planted in the middle of a great round table, and towered high above their heads. It was brilliantly lighted by a multitude of little tapers; and everywhere sparkled and glittered with bright objects.” Charles Dickens

One of the occasions where we commonly see the celebration of traditions, and skills, of time past is Christmas. For those who follow a traditional western anglo-celtic Christmas like our family it is probably the only time a pudding is boiled for four hours as in time past and when traditions passed down through the family are followed. Christmas often is a blend of traditions that have passed down through different family lines.

Chooks'r'us at Life in the Dome has asked us here at beforeourtime.com to reveal eight things about our Christmas celebrations. I thought I would reveal eight things I do at Christmas and how old customs fill this otherwise 21st century seasonal celebration.

1. Christmas Tree

With pagan origins associated with the northern Winter Solstice the Christmas tree can be traced back to 16th century Germany. It gained popular acceptance in Victorian England and was introduced to the US in the 18th century by German settlers.

While real trees are popular here in Australia our family puts up a fake tree on 1 December (or the first weekend of Advent) and takes it down on the twelfth night (January 6). The tree is put up with some ceremony accompanied by the loud-playing of Christmas music. We buy one new bauble each a year and so our tree represents a purchase of baubles over the past 10 years.

2. Advent Calendar

Again from 19th Century German traditions, the advent calendar is a physical way of counting down the days until Christmas. While chocolate calendars are popular, our family has a wooden calendar with little doors containing Christmas-themed charms which are hung each day. Our children take turns to hang the charms each day.

3. Hot Christmas Lunch

Christmas day is notoriously hot in many parts of Australia. Many families have forsaken a more traditional English-style hot meal for a seafood barbecue or cold meat with salad. Not us, however. I insist on roast turkey, ham, roast vegetables and all the trimmings hot weather or no. My husband glazes a ham on Christmas Eve which we then eat cold over the Christmas week.

4. Christmas Pudding

Along with my hot Christmas lunch I insist on a homemade Christmas (plum) pudding served with homemade custard and vanilla ice cream. Christmas puddings have been popular in their dessert form in England since the 19th century. Prior to this the original recipe contained meat and was served before the meal - the symbolic remainder of this tradition being the suet that some puddings still contain.

Tradition dictates that puddings must be made by "stir up" day - the last Sunday before Advent. I have missed this deadline this year but hope to make my pudding this weekend. Many traditionalists put silver coins or charms in their puddings but I don't own any to do this...perhaps this year I might.

5. Christmas Street Party

Christmas is traditionally the time of year we make contact with friends and family. It is also a time to show appreciation to those who have helped us throughout the year.

We live in a cul de sac and host a street party each December for people in surrounding streets. We open up our garage and put a case of beer on ice and nearby residents turn up with a small plate of food, a chair and their children and grandchildren and we catch up on street and local gossip.

6. Christmas Cards

Commercially made Christmas cards were first available in the mid 19th century England. Cards are sent throughout the western world and Asia in the weeks before Christmas. Australia Post expects to deliver over 470million items this Christmas. Cards are another form of contact we make to spread goodwill at this time of year.

In recent years there has been a proliferation of the Christmas letter where families provide extraordinary detail of their past year often accompanied by photographs. This year our family have bought cards with artwork by our kids through a school fundraiser. We will send approx. 100 cards containing a photo mosaic of our year to friends and family.

7. Carrots for the Reindeer, Beer for Santa

It has always been tradition in our family to leave out beer and Christmas cake for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. Recently we have taken to leaving out carrots for the Reindeer as well. It is incumbent on the adults to ensure that the carrots have been found by the Reindeer and look suitably chewed in the morning...

8. Boxing Day celebrations

Christmas Day marks the true beginning of the Australian summer holidays. This is a five-week period in which many businesses operate on a skeleton staff and where many Australians head for the beach or to other holiday destinations.

The first big day of the summer is marked by Boxing Day - a holiday in all Australian States. Traditionally a day to give gifts to the less fortunate it has become associated with the start of the summer department store sales, the Boxing Day Cricket Test and the start of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race. Being a Sydney family we head down to Middle Head to watch "the boats" sail through the Heads. Lunch on that day consists of cold turkey and ham with salads.

So, if you celebrate Christmas - are you a traditionalist? Or do you have a thoroughly modern Christmas? And, incidentally...how is your preparation going?

Why don't prepare a list of eight of your Christmas traditions on your own blog. Link back to this post so that others know you have done this and we'll come and have a look!

Is 40 the new 25?

I turn 40 years old later today. (Yes, you can leave your birthday greetings in the comments box below...all gratefully received. Cheques attached especially valued...!)

Anyway, in the past few weeks I've thought quite a bit about what it means to turn 40. Am I past it? Am I over the hill? Am I...dare I say it...middle-aged?

In a timely and opportune moment, I spied a small article in The Age newspaper last week which showed that an Australian woman aged 40 is likely to have 44.8 years of life remaining (unfortunately, the on-line version of this article doesn't contain the graphic I refer to) although the article highlighted the sobering prediction that these longer than ever lifespans are also more likely to end in Alzheimer's disease.

Of course, one never knows what lies ahead, but with an average life expectancy for Australian women into their 80s I conclude that 40 is not even the half-way point.

So then I discovered some of the life expectancy calculators at various financial planning websites (I'll let you google those for yourself if you are interested: 'life expectancy calculators') and based on my responses to the various questions asked, was given an age into the 90s.

Which is a big contrast to women's lives before our time.

My great-great-grandmother was born in 1825 in a small Scottish village overlooking the valley of the River Forth. By the time she turned 40, she was married, had moved to another village just nine miles away and had given birth to her seventh child, a girl who was named after her mother.

Just over two years later in 1866, that child died. My great-great-grandmother was to give birth at home one more time, to another daughter (also named after her) and although the baby survived the delivery my great-great-grandmother did not. The cause given on her death certificate is exhaustion after delivery (8 hours).

The baby died two weeks later of atrophy.

It makes you appreciate the advances in medical science, now doesn't it?

So at 40, my great-great-grandmother was nearing the end of her life, a life which had possibly been confined to an extremely small geographic area. A life without electricity, or telephones, or television, or (gasp!) the internet. A life in which advancements like aeroplanes, motor cars and space exploration wouldn't have been even dreamt of. A life in which there were no antibiotics to combat infections, and diseases such as smallpox were still prevalent (another of my great-great-grandmothers died of smallpox in 1872 in Glasgow). A life in which a lot about the world just wasn't understood (another great-great-grandmother died from lead poisoning before she was 40 from the water she drank running off lead-laden hills).

Most importantly, it was a life in which women were much more limited in their choices than we are today.

Compared with life before our time, turning 40 nowadays seems quite a young and fortunate age, indeed. In terms of my great-great-grandmothers' lives, it's more like turning 25.

Happy 25th birthday to me!