Halloween Scots-style

Here in Australia, we think of Halloween as being mainly a North American tradition. However, it actually had its origins in the Celtic culture over two thousand years ago. It was known then as the Samhain festival, and was a day on which the Celts believed that the souls of the dead and/or evil spirits could visit the living world and wreak havoc.

Eventually, the Catholic church made 1st November All Saints Day (possibly in an attempt to curb the Pagan Samhain festival) and the day before it became known as Halloween - the eve before All Hallows or All Saints Day.

As a Scottish-Australian, only one generation removed from the land of tartan, it is my Celtic duty to examine the Scottish Halloween traditions that date from before our time.

And who better to consult on these traditions than my own personal experts on Scottish culture, my Mum and my Aunt? These ladies were children in Scotland in the 1950s and I asked them what they remembered of Halloween traditions.

My Mum, who grew up in a small farming village in the South of Scotland said:

When we were young we used to carve out a swede turnip (they were the size of footballs). We would hollow out the stalk for the chimney. A candle was fixed in the bottom, a wire handle attached and we carried it out with us. The stink of hot turnip was unbelievable.

The end of October was very cold to be out walking at night but we never seemed to mind that. We went round the village dressed as witches, ghosts etc and received apples and homemade treacle toffee and fudge. The clever mums would make toffee apples--- and the occasional rich farmer would give us a shilling.

Most households would make the toffee and fudge in the days before the 31st. One year my mother had made all the toffee and put it on the cold floor behind the kitchen door to cool off and set. One of my brothers came in the back door and without looking stripped off his dung-laden wellies and tossed them behind the door. Imagine my mother's horror when she went to get the toffee and found the wellies sitting nicely in it! It was panic that year to get more made so that the children wouldn’t be disappointed.

If someone had a Halloween party, we would play games such as dooking for apples, or eating treacle-covered scones hanging from a string.

My Aunt recalled:

We carved turnips not pumpkins for lanterns and as you made the design you were careful to leave a thin layer of neep for the candle to shine through, not actual holes!

‘Guising’ was done from house to house and you tried to make yourself unrecognizable. You only went to houses where you were known and in order to gain a treat you had to entertain the household in some way.

I wouldn’t be taking my research seriously, if I didn’t at least attempt to carve a swede, but there’s a couple of problems with this:
a) swedes in Australia are around the size of a cricket ball, not a football, and
b) swedes are not currently in season here, being a cool-season vegetable.

However, in the interests of accurate experimentation I did it.

Before Our Time is about revisiting the wisdom of the past and evaluating its application to today’s life. So I have concluded that we would be better in Australia to start a tradition of carving Halloween lanterns out of an item which is large like a pumpkin, and readily available in October.

Ta-da!

Halloween melon lanterns.

A Scottish tradition that is a keeper, I think, is the fudge (or tablet) making for Halloween. My Mum sent through a recipe from The Home Book Of Scottish Cookery by Aileen King and Fiona Dunnett (1967) which I whipped up to send in to my daughter’s class at school.

The ingredients were just water, sugar, condensed milk, butter and vanilla essence. Torture on the teeth and the hips, but oh-so-delicious! (edit: see below for my version of the recipe.)

I wrapped it into individual serves with a spider sticker on each one.

If you know any Scottish bloggers, send them this way so we can get a more up-to-date analysis of Halloween Scots-style.

Happy Halloween! What traditions do you have for this day in your part of the world?

(Edited to add the recipe!)

Scottish Tablet or Fudge
500g white sugar
150ml hot water
60g butter
1 small tin condensed milk
1tsp vanilla essence

Add sugar to water in a saucepan over low heat. Stir until dissolved. Add condensed milk and heat, gently stirring all the time. When combined, add the butter in small lumps. Stir while waiting for each to totally melt before adding the next. Turn the heat right up and bring to the boil. Boil rapidly for around 5-7 mins until the mixture forms a soft ball when dropped into cold water. Remove from heat and allow bubbles to subside. Add vanilla essence and beat until creamy and thick. Pour into a lined 22cm x 30cm tin and refrigerate. Cut into squares when set.

Edited 11 Nov: It seems some people are having trouble getting the fudge to set. I'm no fudge expert, so I really don't know what is going wrong! I boiled mine really rapidly for the full 7 minutes, and it did start to turn streaky with a darker colour at that point - if that helps!

The Hotwater Bottle Fights Back as a Techno Gadget

I love a hotwater bottle. Nothing better on a cool winter’s night or when in pain and in need of a little attention. Wheat packs and electric blankets really don’t do it for me. Hotwater bottles are cuddly, you can knit clothes for them and they have history.

Here are some of the lovely clothes I have knitted for hotwater bottles:

How many wheat packs do you have with interchangeable outfits?

There’s nothing really exciting to say about the history of hotwater bottles except to say that we have been trying to figure out ways to keep ourselves warm at night since before we wore mammoth-skin cloaks. Records exist of beds being warmed with containers of hot coals, and later ceramic bottles of hot water, but it wasn’t until Slavoljub Eduard Penkala developed the rubber hotwater bottle did it really hit its straps as a leave.in.all.night snuggle-fest.

But history has not been kind to the hotwater bottle. Reports of burns due to improper use have diminished its glory in favour of electric blankets or wheat packs. So I was excited to read a new and thoroughly modern use for this fabulous item. The hotwater bottle has hit the techno big time as

... a laptop stand for your lap

Yes, Lifehacker Australia recently reported a blogger who uses a [tepid] tap-water-filled hotwater bottle as a comfy stable table between laptop, and lap. The hotwater bottle is ready to take on a new role in this millennium.

You can’t do that with an electric blanket.

I must confess that in the interests of thorough research I tried the hotwater bottle laptop stand and found it to be ... a bit wobbly. But it was comfortable.

How about you – do you love your hot water bottle or are you a modern microwaveable wheat pack or electric blanket user? Do you have a modern use for your trusty hotwater bottle?

Washcloth Winner!

A suitably before our time Royal Doulton Dickens-Ware bowl was selected

The names were written out and folded

Miss 10 baggsed the right to draw the winner

Congratulations Gramma Ann!

You are now the proud owner of a Pink Ribbon washcloth knitted in pale pink 100% Egyptian cotton.

Gramma Ann please contact us at beforeourtime@bigpond.com and this item will be flying to your house very soon!

Who is teaching our children to cook?

“First of all we have a scheme of education which fails to provide instruction in a girl’s domestic duties; then we have the wife who undertakes the task for which she has never been properly trained; next, instead of well-cooked and very much varied meals, we have a conspicuous and a disastrous failure; and finally, we have the bread-winner driven to the public-house—and happiness has left that home for ever.”

Philip Muskett, The Art of Living in Australia(1893)
Chapter VIII on 'School Cookery and Its Influence on the Australian Daily Life'

If Mr Muskett is to be believed, bad cooking in the home is a sure-fire way to send the inhabitants on a downward spiral into drunkenness. Some of the meals I attempted to cook in my early twenties verged on the disastrous, but I can honestly say they never forced anyone out the door to the pub.

Muskett’s chapter on school cookery did however highlight the role that domestic education plays in creating a healthy and happy population. In her 1995 article, “When did we teach our girls to cook?” Beverley Kingston suggests that for most of the nineteenth century Australian girls had little opportunity to formally learn about cooking. It wasn’t until the last 20 years of the nineteenth century that cookery and other domestic skills were added to the curriculum (for girls) of schools in the various Australian colonies. Critics of the introduction she says, “argued that both cooking and sewing were things that girls could and should learn at home from their mothers and were a waste of time and money in schools.”

Leaving aside the obvious focus on girls only being the ones for whom domestic education was deemed to be appropriate, this did make me reflect on the role of the education system in the teaching of domestic skills.

In Australian schools, food preparation and cooking now goes generally by the name Food Technology, although none of the high schools we are considering for our daughters offer this subject. A recent article in The Age highlighted that Victoria's peak health promotion agency, Vichealth, has proposed in a submission to the Federal Government’s obesity inquiry that food technology be made a compulsory subject for students up to year 10.

While we wait for cooking to end up on school curricula, perhaps we should look to the wisdom of those 19th century critics: is cooking something children can learn at home from their mothers and fathers?

There is nothing like total immersion to learn a new skill, so at the start of this year we allocated one night a fortnight to our then ten-year-old daughter as her ‘cooking night.’ She has to plan what she wants to cook, write up a list of ingredients she needs and go shopping for those ingredients at the markets. We offer advice and assistance if required during the cooking process, but she is in charge.

Last week, she chose to cook (for the family and two guests):

- Racks of lamb served with herbed mashed potato, steamed beans and broccoli
- A fruit and cheese platter (selection of three cheeses)

Over the past months, she’s learned some really valuable lessons in choosing foods at the market, preparing ingredients, timing and coordinating the cooking process and catering for people with food intolerances.

The pride on her face when (several months ago) she cooked a pork roast with vegetables and all the trimmings for one of her school friends and her friend’s father made the entire process worthwhile.

We don’t see this as a girl/boy issue. If we had a son we would also do the same with him. The ability to cook fresh, tasty, wholesome food is an essential life skill.

And so far, on her cooking night, no-one has been tempted to nip out to the pub!

How did you learn to cook? And who is teaching the children in your lives to cook?

Art Deco on the streets of Melbourne

The recent blockbuster Art Deco 1910-1939 exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria, has given many Melburnians and visitors a new-found appreciation of this glamorous and spectacular era of design, art and architecture.

The NGV website describes Art Deco as follows:

Spanning the boom of the roaring Twenties and the Depression–ridden 1930s, Art Deco came to epitomise all the glamour, opulence and hedonism of the Jazz age. It was the era of the flapper girl, the luxury ocean liner, the Hollywood film and the skyscraper.

The exhibition, which was organized by the Victoria and Albert Museum of London contained over 300 works from a variety of artistic media such as painting, photography, fashion, film, architecture and jewellery.

While I think exhibitions such as these are must-see experiences, in this fair city there are many opportunities to enjoy Art Deco without stepping inside a gallery. Sometimes we take for granted some of the art and beauty that surrounds us everyday.

Within the CBD alone, there are many examples of Art Deco design and architecture. These are some of my favourites.

Manchester Unity Building, (Cnr Swanston and Collins Streets)


Century Building, (Cnr Swanston and Little Collins Street)

Newspaper House, (247 Collins Street)


Myer department store, (314-336 Bourke Street) David Jones, (294-296 Bourke Street)
Australian Natives Association Building, (28-32 Elizabeth Street)

Commonwealth Bank, (225 Bourke Street)

Are there examples of Art Deco in your neighbourhood?

PS: don't forget to leave a comment on the washcloth post for your chance to win the fabulous, hand-knitted pink ribbon washcloth.

Washcloths, 1930s style: Prize Giveaway!

Back, long before our time if you wanted a washcloth (flannel, face-washer, dishcloth) you would knit one, or have one knitted for you. School children knitted face-washers for the war effort, along with socks and scarves; all, I imagine in army green or navy blue cotton or linen.

Earlier this year I sent my children to a beginners knitting class in the city. I had tried to teach them to knit but I knew this would end in arguments so I decided to outsource to a professional – a lovely 19 year old who didn’t know what she was in for.

After the class we were discussing the best sorts of ‘first projects’ that beginner knitters should tackle. Traditionally beginners start with a scarf but they require considerable commitment to finish to the required length, usually more commitment than a beginner has. Beginners would be better advised, the instructor said, to knit a washcloth. These 20cm square projects are quick, easy and can be used immediately no matter the weather.

Today when it is easy to purchase cotton towelling or synthetic washcloths in bulk it seems a quaint out-of-date practice to knit them yourself, and yet people still do. Type “knitted washcloths” into Google and you will get thousands of links to patterns and photographs of completed projects.

I decided to buy some cotton yarn and give hand-knitted washcloths a go.

This is a simple pattern called, appropriately, Grandmother's Favourite. I found the pattern here and it is so simple to knit.

My husband thinks I’m kooky but I love these. I knit while watching TV. Each washcloth takes me two or three tv shows to knit and I find they are excellent for scrubbing my face in the shower.

They also make excellent gifts.

If you’re looking for a quick, satisfying project that won’t sit around unused, knit a washcloth. Cotton is inexpensive so these should cost about $1 - $3 each to make so is a great option for the thrifty among us.

Oh, and if you’re not interested in using one as a face-washer – apparently they are excellent for scrubbing glassware.

Anyone else out there knitting washcloths? Did you have knitted washcloths as a child? Do you think this is a skill that belongs before our time? Tell us your story in the comments section.

BREAST CANCER AWARENESS MONTH: WASHCLOTH GIVEAWAY!

We will draw a comment by random to receive their own hand-knitted Pink Ribbon 100% Indian cotton washcloth to try (see pic at left). The lucky prizewinner will be drawn out of a hat on Friday 24th October*. Good luck!

Please also take time to visit the official Breast Cancer website here to see how you can help.

* Winner's name will be posted to the sidebar

Reader Stories: Line-drying

Thank you to all of you who have been leaving comments and/or emailing your stories to beforeourtime@bigpond.com.

Here at before our time we love to hear all your stories. Below is a small sample of the stories we have been sent, a kind of "letters to the editor" feature if you like. To read more reader stories click here.

Read and enjoy how different, and how the same we all are:

"I live in the middle of a small town in the Pacific Northwest, United States. I love line-dried clothes. I remember them smelling so good as a child. The climate here is so very damp about 9 months of the year that outdoor line-drying can be a real challenge. The energy crunch and consequent cost of power of the last few years has encouraged more line-drying. However, over the past couple of years I have noticed that my lovely line-dried laundry smells like exhaust fumes! We live on the side of a river valley that a main interstate highway system runs through. I assume that traffic and the consequent exhaust fumes (we have many diesel trains go through town hourly, as well) are to blame for the foul smelling sheets and pillow cases. I haven't put my laundry out to dry for about 18 months now. "DENISE, WASHINGTON STATE, USA (by email)

"Never having owned a dryer (or lived in a house with someone who did) I guess I dont know what I'm missing. One thing I've noticed is my friends who have dryers tend to have less of each item than I do. For example, they survive with only 2 sets of sheets, because the turn around can be so quick and not dependent on weather. Whereas I need at least 3 sets as what if it rains for 2 weeks and I cant dry them outside? same for towels.Now I have a baby (who is partially cloth nappied) any visitors are aware they may be used as a clothes horse if they stand still for too long." QOTFU (BY COMMENT)

"I'm from the US, and while I somehow managed to find a home outside the grasp of a homeowner's association, and while I love the idea of line drying, and the smell of sun dried clothes, I'm a full on tumble dryer in practice. It rains most of the year around here, so that's one lame excuse, and we live on a busy street with much traffic, so it would seem that clothes might end up with an extra coating of grime if left to dry outdoors (but that's speculation). If I had a drying room where the door could be closed, I'd be much more inclined to hang dry indoors. Other reasons not to dry outdoors - my husband who lived in Missouri for a time said that they line dried, but had terrible trouble with wasps and bugs getting in and on the clothes. Now that would freak me out, so one more excuse not to line dry! I do have very fond memories of line drying in the summer as a kid. We had one of those ancient open top washing machines with the roller press (don't get your hand stuck - I did that once) that did a fantastic job, and sun dried clothes smelled divine.." SUEEEUS (BY COMMENT)

"Some winters I have thought how nice it would be to have a dryer "just for sheets and towels" but have never thought seriously about owning one, it's just something I would never buy and I don't know why that is, just something we can live without. We are used to the house looking like a Chinese laundry I guess and I try to keep the wet washing as neat as possible. I hang Out towels and sheets knowing the they will be there at least 24 hours to dry in winter. It just takes a little planning, and yes definately if my kids throw something in the wash that took 2 days to dry and it is not dirty, I give it back to them to wear again!! I love hanging washing out on a nice day, and if it's sunny AND windy I actually rush to do it and get it out!! Am I crazy? I am definately not obessive about housework and washing, but not having a dryer is just the norm for me! "LINDA (BY COMMENT)

"I rarely (ie once a year) use our dryer, it is purely for emergency back-up. I think the fact that we have a big old Hills Hoist in the middle of our backyard (rather than the skimpier but neater fold away line on the side of the house) helps me with achieving my maximum potential for line drying. And also that I do not have a Gloria Soame (glorious home) so I don't feel its aesthetics are compromised by laundry racks in front of the heater." STOMPER GIRL (BY COMMENT)