Underwear in the 1909 Delineator. Bloomers, slips, corsets and corset covers… and that’s just the beginning. In the 50′s, when I was a little girl, my mother would adorn me in dresses with crinoline slips which were scratchy, but I felt pretty. The rest of the time I dressed in dirty pants and tops, a scruffy thing. Today, with the soft fabrics, little girls get to look pretty and feel comfortable. Young women, too, if they choose. I actually like the fashions today, for young women. They are similar to what I wore in University in the 70′s, theatre- student wear. I was before the curve, in my leotard tops and loose skirts or tights..who was to know?
Wednesday morning the second week in February. Flo watched from the window as Mr. Montgomery, in his yellow tuque, shoveled out the walk. The weather had been something terrible. It had snowed the Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and was continuing into Wednesday. This was the second time the kindly man next door had trudged over with his shovel in hand to help. Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Margaret had done her neighbourly duty when Mrs. Montgomery had been very ill almost two months ago, and now her kindness was being returned.
Flora was at home with a little cold, she was taking the syrup and not the pills, and May had returned home to avoid catching same. Funny, since May (actually Marion) seldom caught any colds, which Margaret attributed to her cheery disposition.
Father had written home that it had fallen to 51 below Fahrenheit on the line, more fridged than in Richmond, where it had reached 25 below the week before. “Don’t worry about me,” Norman said, “I have good camps where I am… How’s the flour barrel? he had added, feeling
magnanimous about money for a change. He was bringing in monthly 100 paycheques. So if he couldn’t be at home, with is family, he was still worthy of being called a good father. “And if you want a box of haddie, get on the phone,” he added to underscore his sentiments.
The cold weather hadn’t kept Flora and May from attending a party in Melbourne on the Saturday. You couldn’t stop living just because of winter storms. And you could always look on the bright side: lots of snow meant good sledding and good sledding meant good getting around!
While Mr. Montgomery helped with the shoveling, it was left to Margaret and Flora to stoke the furnace. Norman worried that the pieces of wood were too heavy for the women to shove into the furnace. This was usually a man’s job, or a maid’s job. But the women were managing: housework -in general- built strong arms, although it was no fun getting up in a freezing house at 5:30 to get a good blaze going. How Norman enjoyed starting the first fire when he was at home, so that his womenfolk wouldn’t have to shiver in their slippers and wrappers every morning .
Yes, heating Tighsolas in the winter kept everyone busy, all right, but, on the other hand, Margaret had relatively little to do, with only May and Flora at home, and very few visitors, so, as usual in life, she had gained some and lost some with the situation.
And today, for a change, she wasn’t fretting over son Herb. The focus of Margaret’s worrying all week had been her younger brother, Dan, who was confined to bed. She had visited Dan and his wife to bring some scones the other day. On top of that Mrs. Montgomery had tonsillitis and the milk man, McMorine, diptheria. There had been a mild epidemic in the region of that dread disease. She would have to get her milk from Dr. Boast in the interim. Dr. Boast who used his professional credentials to say his milk was purer and healthier than regular farmers milk. What nonsense!
Yes, it is better to have health and no money than money with no health, she thought to herself, remembering something Norman had written when Mrs. Montgomery had been at her worst. Well, right now the Nicholsons had reasonable health and a little bit of money, enough money, anyway.
She would express gratitude for these blessings at church later in the day.
Margaret was thinking ALL this as she watched Flora watch Mr. Montgomery through the frost-flecked window pane. Margaret was sweeping the hallway, Flora’s job, but she didn’t want the girl to overtire.
She would phone the Doctor for some more syrup, just in case she thought as she gazed upon her youngest, most delicate child, the child who gave her the the least worry, by virtue of her being right here at home by her side.. Sweet, even-tempered, Flora. Such a good girl despite being at that trying age.
