Good things come to those who wait

There's a school of thought that we do our children a disservice if we don't teach them to wait for things.

Citing the famous Stanford Marshmallow Experiment, Michael Grose (an Australian leading parent educator, parent coach, writer and speaker on parenting and family matters) suggested in one of his blog posts that it's important, "to encourage your children to delay gratification, practise self-discipline and build character along the way."

The Stanford Marshmallow Experiment was conducted by a psychologist called Walter Mischel in the late 1960s.  Pre-schoolers were given a marshmallow and told they could have it, but if they waited 20 minutes they could have both the first marshmallow, and a second marshmallow. About two-thirds of the kids either ate the first marshmallow straight away, or tried to resist, but gave in within the 20 minutes. The remaining third waited the full time and got their two marshmallows. Many years later Mischel followed up his subjects, who were then in high school, and discovered, among other things, that the children from the first group had experienced more behavioural problems at school and home, had attained lower SAT scores than the second group and had struggled more with friendships.

Mischel's conclusion based on hours of observations was that the delayed gratification kids possessed coping techniques to use with their 'hot emotion' (i.e the desire for the marshmallow) such as distracting themselves from the object of desire, which they then applied to other stressful situations in their lives.

However, in the interesting article in The New Yorker magazine about this topic, Mischel acknowledges that the challenge is to turn some of those tricks into habits.

“This is where your parents are important,” Mischel says. “Have they established rituals that force you to delay on a daily basis? Do they encourage you to wait? And do they make waiting worthwhile?”

So let's just say that's what we've been doing here at beforeourtime.com. We've been encouraging you to wait...

and wait...

...for us to start posting again.

And now we're very pleased to announce that we intend to make the waiting worthwhile.

Not only have we given the blog a bit of a makeover, we also have an interesting and thought-provoking line-up of posts to come. There will be:

• Our usual erudite and informative posts examining aspects of life pre-1970 and ascertaining their relevance (or not!) to our 21st Century lives
• 'Wisdom on Wednesday' - wise words from the past
• 'Tips from the Archives' (every Sunday) - hints and tips for everything from stain removal, pest control and food storage to etiquette, relationships and time management
• Plus posts examining the changes in corporate life since 1970...for better or worse?

We're very excited to be back on deck and look forward to you joining us for the journey.  Check the sidebar on the right for all the ways you can follow us (Google Friends, Twitter, email...) or just stop by the blog the old-fashioned way by typing beforeourtime.com into the address bar of your browser. If you're a Facebook user, you can 'Like' us by searching for the 'Before Our Time' page, and you'll be notified of any new posts in your News Feed.

For those of you visiting Before Our Time for the first time - welcome!  Please, browse through some of our past posts.

So, are you pleased we made you wait?

Quinces re-heated

As it is annual quince-paste-making day in our household, I thought I'd re-heat an old post! Enjoy.

"QUINCE PASTE If the full flavour of the quinces be desired, stew them sufficiently tender to press through a sieve in the prepared juice of page 456; otherwise in just water enough to about three parts cover them; when they are soft quite through lift them out, let them cool and then pass them through a sieve; reduce them to a dry paste over a very clear fire and stir them constantly; then weigh the fruit and mix it with an equal proportion of pounded sugar or sugar boiled to candy height, we find the effect nearly the same whichever method be pursued and stir the paste without intermission until it is again so dry as to quit the pan and adhere to the spoon in one large ball; press it into shallow pans or dishes; cut it as soon as cold into small squares and should they seem to require it, dry them with a very gentle degree of heat, and when they are again cold store them in tin cases with well dried foolscap paper between them: the paste may be moulded when more convenient and kept until it is wanted for table in a very dry place. In France where the fruit is admirably confected the pate de coigns or quince paste is somewhat less boiled than we have directed and dried afterwards in the sun or in an extremely gentle oven in square tin frames about an inch and a half deep placed upon clean slates"

Modern cookery for private families reduced to a system of easy practice, in a series of carefully tested receipts, in which the principles of Baron Liebig and other eminent writers have been as much as possible applied and explained By Eliza Acton, Published by Longman, Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green, 1864 (via Google books)

There's been a lot of talk lately about eating local foods, and eating them seasonally. And when you do so, it creates a certain rhythm to the year: berry desserts in summer, root vegetable stews in winter, fresh shelled peas in spring.

However, the canny cook from before our time also knew that there was a rhythm to the pickling, bottling and preserving of these foods, which allowed variety on the dinner table all year round.

Tomato-sauce-making-day for instance, continues to be a tradition among some Italo-Australian families I know. Held towards the end of the summer when the tomatoes are cheap and plentiful, a day of chopping and boiling in the company of friends and family creates a store of pasta sauce to carry the family through the year ahead.

In my own family home, I remember the citrus season was marked by a day of chopping and peeling to make jars and jars of marmalade which would be consumed on toast throughout the year and also given as gifts to the less citricly-endowed (yes, I know citricly is not really a word...just indulge me.)

At this time of year in Southern Australia, the rhythm of seasonality dictates that it is quince paste making time.

This is the second year that I have made quince paste. Last year's didn't quite set like it should have, but I now have a legion of fans for my legendary "quince jam". In fact, one friend who I have given several containers to has begged that I make it in exactly the same way this year. If only it were that simple. She seems to think I have some control over the process!

Megan has already posted about her quince paste making experiences and I use the same basic recipe that she did.

One of the great delights of making quince-paste on a cold early winter's afternoon is that it gives you an excuse to loiter around the house. Oh no, I can't go out...I have to stir my quince paste. And the reward for judicious stirring is watching the fruit turn from a light flesh to a deep red colour. Made to perfection it should be as glossy and reflective as rubies.

There is a certain magic in turning a couple of kilos of furry fruit into a delicious dark treat to be enjoyed with cheese the year round, and given to friends as gifts.

What seasonal food preparation days mark your yearly calendar?

Colour my world

"Soon temperate palettes were considered to reflect the 'drab' war years and these pastel hues were replaced by an explosion of colour and texture, inspired by the strong primary colours synonymous with the Modernist movement. By the late 1950s a colour revolution was beginning to affect conventional interiors, and two, three or four bold colours might be used in one room. These colours were coordinated with decorative plastic laminates and linoleum floors to compose a 'Harlequin' effect."

History of Paint in Australia 

compiled by Kelly Wynne, Deakin University Student, October 2008 

on Museum Victoria website.

The colours we choose to surround ourselves with say a lot about the mood of the environment. During the post-war period mentioned in the quote above, brighter colours were introduced to interiors reflecting the new-found optimism of a world rebuilding itself following the austerity of the war years.

Originally however, wall paint colours and textile colours were determined more by the availability of the materials with which to create each hue. In the Victorian era in Australia for instance, paint colours were limited to the those that could be created by the pigments which were imported. These pigments included green copper hydroxide, red and yellow oxides and Prussian blue.

Once technologies and global transport links developed, larger colour ranges were possible. How about the coloured bathroom suites you often see in homes dating from the 1920s onwards? Pastel pinks, blues and greens were fashionable - with the toilet, hand basin and bath all matching.

And then there was the 1970s when paint colours were bright, as were the laminexes in kitchens.  Bathrooms surfaces, tiles and suites came in a range of colours (often oranges, greens and blues). Rooms were often decorated independently of each other with bright wallpapers covering every wall.

So it is interesting to observe when flicking through home magazines that today, we seem to have swung very much back onto neutral ground.  Walls tend to be painted predominately in neutral lighter shades, with perhaps a feature wall or two of a brighter colour. Bathrooms suites are almost uniformly white.

In my own lifetime of home ownership we've done a complete decorating 360 degrees. Our first house back in the early 1990s was a tiny Victorian inner-city cottage, so in an effort to make it seem larger and brighter, we repainted all the (previously pink) walls with a vivid white, and replaced the carpet with a light sand-coloured one.

Our next two homes were the reverse. We bought homes decorated with neutral colour schemes and repainted with a riot of colour. The living rooms were bright yellow, one kitchen ended up lime green, and  we had pumpkin coloured bedrooms.

Latterly, however, we've gone full circle and have painted the complete interiors of houses in a shade of white. I don't think we're alone in this choice. Paint manufacturer Dulux has a specific brochure (the Whites booklet ) purely for its range of white paint. There are 24 different Dulux white paints with names like; Chalk USA, Antique White, Hogs' Bristle, Lexicon, Magnolia and Crewelwork. (I love this last name, as painting a house is indeed cruel work...there's nothing like the name on the paint can reminding you as you do the job!)

And when it comes time to renovate our bathrooms in our current house, we'll definitely be choosing bathroom suites in white - not that there is much other choice in bathroom showrooms.

I wonder what this preference for neutrality says about us, and indeed our times?

What colour is your world?

Who is responsible for feeding our kids?

I've been watching Jamie Oliver's TV series filmed in the USA,  Jamie's Food Revolution with a degree of interest. I call shows like this (and its UK-based predecessors, Jamie's School Dinners and Jamie's Ministry of Food) car-crash television: some of the scenes are so horrific, you can't help but watch them.

Jamie's message on the Food Revolution website says:

This food revolution is about saving America's health by changing the way you eat. It's not just a TV show, it's a movement for you, your family and your community. If you care about your kids and their future take this revolution and make it your own. Educate yourself about food and cooking. Find out what your child is eating at school. Make only a few small changes and magical things will happen. Switching from processed to fresh food will not only make you feel better but it will add years to your life.

In this series Jamie heads to Huntington, West Virginia - which has been called the unhealthiest city in America - to start his new cooking initiative. He aims to combat obesity, heart disease and diabetes by challenging the way the people are eating and he hopes to use Huntington as the spark to initiate positive change across the United States.

I've only watched two episodes so far, but I was especially shocked by the meals that were being served up to young children in the school cafeteria in the first school he visited in Huntington, and I remember being similarly shocked when I watched the UK version, Jamie's School Dinners.

While the meals may technically tick all the boxes with regards to Government nutrition guidelines, I would hate to think my children were being dished up processed, frozen and reheated pizza for breakfast, or chicken nuggets for lunch (washed down by flavoured milk).

Have a look at the (top) photo of a school meal that meets that US Federal guidelines here.

Or how about this promo video which shows some of the processed foods Jamie found in the school kitchen freezer?




Whether it was by design or default (I don't know, perhaps someone may be able to enlighten me) I think one of the cleverest choices Australia made before our time, was not to provide Government-subsidised school lunches. I suspect that when a Government delivers food, cost-cutting and efficiencies become paramount. In addition, parents lose some of the accountability of choosing what their children eat.

Australia has a strong culture of 'packed lunches'. Each child brings his or her own lunch to school, or selects and pays for his or her own from a school canteen (which doesn't always offer great food options, but that's another story). This places the total responsibility for that child's nutrition firmly back in the family fold. It doesn't mean parents always make great choices either, but at least we don't have to battle an institution and Government to ensure our children eat what we want them to. (We just have to battle stubborn children!)

On the other hand, the provision of subsidised meals can offer a guarantee that children are getting at least one meal a day which will be filling and will meet some nutrition guidelines, as not all children are fortunate enough to be well-fed at home.

What do you think? I'd be interested to hear the school-lunch experiences of readers in other parts of the world.

Business Unwired

Last night I watched a program on the design of the Sony Walkman. You know, the original one from 1979. The iPod in tape form. There started the marvellous slippery slope to wired teenagers, of which I was one.

But we need to go way back further than than the Walkman if we wish to apportion blame. When Thomas Edison was a boy one would have to hoick oneself to the town square to hear the latest in music, bang away at one’s own piano or perhaps one would attend a musical soiree at a well-to-do neighbour’s house. Then Thomas found a way to record this music. No longer would we have to schlep to the town square on a cold winter’s night because the music could come to us. A marvellous thing.

A pity he didn’t foresee that his innocuous invention would result in teens all over the world coming to the dinner table wired for sound. It’s one thing to have your teen grunt at you in reply to a question; it is quite another thing for her to not even realise you’ve asked something. It’s enough to make you grab your own iPod and eat quietly to the life soundtrack of your choice.

In 2008 our family unwired and gave up screens of any kind for a week, during the winter school holidays, and found that it was a remarkably easy thing to do. The kids got to taste was boredom was like and like Dante’s Inferno they entered the nine circles of hell to emerge the other side having known themselves a little better.

And now I have business in my sights.

Returning to a corporate office after five years living and working from home I was shocked at how technology had seemed to contribute to the stress and workload of my colleagues. On my first day I was presented with a BlackBerry® and a lap-top. Welcome to the 24/7 workday.

When I last went to a corporate meeting people would turn up with a pad of paper and a pen. Now everyone had a laptop open and their BlackBerry® at their fingertips. No-one was interested in the speaker because they were either completing their upcoming presentation, checking their emails or working on something completely unrelated to the meeting at hand. Sometimes all three.

Ideas didn’t seem to carry weight unless supported by a PowerPoint presentation and far from reducing printing costs they seem to have increased with everyone simultaneously reading the PowerPoint presentation on the screen and writing notes on the colour print-out made earlier. The notes may or may not have been connected to the presentation – more likely to be a list of emails to be sent during the meeting.

With so many employees crying out that they are worked to the bone I can see why. They are connected 24/7 and if they mistakenly respond to an email at 10pm then they’ve opened the floodgates of expectation.

When I studied organisational communication we were taught that organisations talk themselves into being. In the past this talk was in the hands of an inter-office memo, a report or a speech from the CEO. Now it is in the hands of anyone with access to email.

In an effort to control the 24/7 exhaustion of the workplace Sony executives recently agreed that it was reasonable for the leadership team to respond to emails and phone calls in an 8am-8pm timeframe. After that your time was your own. In another company one senior leader decided that each evening to think of the 2-3 critical things he had to resolve the next day and devote 90 minutes to doing so the next morning before he turned on his electronic media.

You know technology has done a lot of good and a lot of bad. We both know it. These companies have taken a great step. But I think we need to make a corporate statement. I’d like to start a low-technology week where businesses agree to go old school and communicate by phone, in person and with the pen. Bring back the inter-office memo for a week, send a letter, ring your colleague or supplier instead of shooting off an email and *gasp* turn up to a meeting with nothing more than your voice, a pad and a pen (the purpose being to actually discuss and resolve something).

My bet is that despite an early shock the result would be a week of bliss. Exempt from the expectation of the 35 slide PowerPoint and the 24 second reply employees, customers and suppliers might actually speak with one another and those rubbish emails which have no point will simply not.be.sent. If you don’t think it is possible think back to your office circa 1992. You did it then, and other than having to warn your external customers (and encourage them to join with you) you know it would be possible.

Anyone with me?

*all power to Dilbert's mate Mr Adams, Sony, Thomas E and the person who came up with the BlackBerry cartoon. It is to them that you should direct your thanks for their images (Thomas E may be a little hard to get hold of).

The art of small talk

SMALL TALK
It is no easy matter to talk well. A man may read many books, and have a tenacious memory, and a sound judgment, and no small portion of critical acumen. He may express his thoughts in elegant language; he may season his discourse with wit, and be a living lexicon, and a walking encyclopedia; and yet, after all, be but a dull every-day companion. All the world don't read books; and all who do read, do not care about them; but every body loves to talk. There is something very pleasant in hearing the sound of one's own voice; and when we are wearied with toil, or tired with thought, we love to chat, to set the tongue in motion, to relieve the sense of weariness.

A Manual of Politeness, comprising the principles of etiquette, and rules of behaviour in genteel society, for persons of both sexes. 1837, published by WM Marshall & Co, Philadelphia (via google books).

We all know those people among our circles who are natural raconteurs; the ones who can describe a trip to the supermarket in such a way that we feel disappointed we weren't there with them. Often they will regale people they have just met with such tales.

But small talk doesn't come easy to us all.

The Manual of Politeness goes on to offer the following observation:

The mistake is common, though not for that reason less a mistake, to imagine that it is the easiest matter in the world to talk about nothing, or every-day occurrences: it requires an active mind, an observant mind, and no small share of that invaluable, unpurchasable, and unlearnable quality, good humour, to say something on every thing to any body. It has been sometimes noticed, as a remarkable and amiable trait in the characters of some men, of very superior minds, that they have been able and willing to make themselves agreeable to children; and not unfrequently has it been observed of great monarchs, that they had something to say to every body.

And perhaps that is the key? The art of small talk lies in being comfortable talking to anyone at any time. But how do we learn this skill?

With two girls in my household, there is usually no end to the chatter, but I was interested to hear the Principal of my youngest daughter's school outline that the school has a 'method' for teaching the children to be confident in interacting with others, particularly adults. They must:

• look the person in the eye
• respond to the greeting, and if it included a question, answer it with more than a 'yes' or 'no', and most importantly,
• follow up with a question of their own.

So a conversation with a teacher in the morning may go along the lines of:

Teacher: Hello Jessica! Did you have a good weekend?

Jessica: I did Mrs Teacher, I went to stay at my grandparents.
What did you do on the weekend?

And there you go, it's Conversation 101 for six year olds. The Principal went on to say that after a while, the students aim to be the initiator of any interaction so that they get 'their' questions in first!

Listening to older students interacting with their parents, I suspect those lessons may need to be re-learned. One-word answers seem to be the go with many young teens, and I don't know if it is shyness or disinterest, but I find few who initiate a conversation with an adult they don't know well.

Perhaps it is a lack of a shared knowledge and interests?

The Manual of Politeness says, "Let but the topics of the day be known, the last novel, or picture, or public singer, and all the conversation may be anticipated," but when you have to ask your fellow conversation-er for an explanation of exactly who Justin Beiber is, it is clear there are no longer universal "topics of the day".

Safe small talk topics here in Melbourne once included the football, free-to-air TV and the top stories in that day's Age. With a diversifying population those topics are no longer (if they ever were) known to all. Some people in this fair city don't even follow AFL football (I know! Shock!), television is delivered via a multitude of free-to-air and pay-TV channels and people obtain their news from a variety of mainstream and online media. We can't make assumptions, particularly in meeting strangers.

So how do we strike up those conversations? What are your sure-fire topics to get the ball rolling, or tips that help with the art of small talk?

How's it hanging?

photo from Wikimedia

90. Hanging Clothes to Dry.—To some it might seem that the laundry work is practically done when clothes are ready to be hung on the line; but the next step has some very important features, the oversight of which might make necessary the rewashing of articles.

One of the chief virtues of proper drying of clothes is the effect that sun and air have on them. When clothes are hung on the line quite wet, almost dripping in fact, the combined action of sun and air is one of the best bleaches known. It is because of this that white clothes should be hung, when possible, out-of-doors, and that colored clothes should be hung in the shade or indoors.

91. To save time in the sorting of articles for ironing, hang all garments of a kind together. Then, to have the clothes dry in the best possible condition, keep in mind the following general directions:

Be sure that the clothes-line and pins are perfectly clean.
Shake things out well and turn outer garments, if they have not already been turned, wrong side out.
Hang large pieces, such as sheets and table-cloths, on a straight thread of the material, one-fourth or one-half of each over the line, and fasten with four or five clothes-pins. Sheets may be doubled crosswise, so that the upper and lower hems meet, and pinned to the line by the hems, to minimize the danger of hems being torn by the wind.
Fold flat pieces as they are taken off the line, as then they will be easier to iron.
Take starched clothes from the line as soon as they are dry, as long hanging will cause them to lose their stiffness and make them more difficult to iron. Also, as a brisk wind will take out the starch, be sure to make it rather heavy on windy days.

from Laundering and Dry Cleaning, Woman's Institute of Domestic Arts & Sciences, by Mary Brooks Picken (1931) The original web version of this work can be found at www.VintageSewing.info

We're big fans of line-drying here at Before Our Time. You may remember Megan's earlier post about incorporating ideas about air-drying of clothes into a planned renovation.

But who knew that the act of line-drying itself could be so contentious?

When my husband and I hang washing out together, there is a running commentary on the failings of each other's methods of hanging. I like to hang shirts from the bottom, he likes to put them on coathangers...I pair up socks before pegging them, he hangs them how they come out of the basket. And if you add my oldest daughter into the equation...well! Then you get a method which seems to involve tossing the item over the line and pinning it however it lands.

So I was interested to see the guide at bbb.co.uk's h2g2 site about how to hang clothing correctly.

In summary, some of the content covered is:

Pegging - forehand or backhand? Traditional (2 pegs per item) or linking (shared pegs between items)?Old-style wooden or plastic?

Upside-down or right-way up?

Right-way out, or inside-out to prevent fading?

Work from the inside of the line to the outside, small items to large?

Perhaps you can tell a lot about someone by how they organise their washing line?

I like to match items up as I hang, - pyjama bottoms with tops, socks paired, sports uniforms together. Not because I'm particularly anal, just because it saves time later when I bring the washing in and fold it - and that is a task I dislike more than the hanging out.

And I tend to hang all the large items first and leave the underwear and socks until the end. I figure I can always find room on a rack for those items if I run out of space, but it's harder to find space for a bedsheet.

If I have items that are stained with pasta sauce (which is a reasonably frequent occurrence with one smallish child) I try to find a space on the line which is in full sun, as that exposure causes the stain to miraculously disappear.

My methods have been adopted over time through trial and error combined with family tradition, but I'm wondering whether there is a more definitive method from before our time, that I should have learnt?

How do you hang?