On Her Way

I got sick at noon and lost my lunch so I guess Joyce is really on her way. I would have to be different than all other women. I didn’t want another baby so soon, but I guess there is nothing to do about it now. - Annette, December 1941

We’re back! Thanks so much for your patience during the down time! The holidays were a bit hectic for me, as I’m sure they were for a lot of people. While I appreciated the time off from the blog, the women's stories were always on my mind. Particularly, Annette’s story.

This entry from her is so honest. Her entry from just a few days prior says “Today U.S. declared war on Japan.” She is quite literally in the middle of a war zone, trying her best to care for the doctors, nurses, workers, and babies in the orphanage. Her toddler is not gaining weight, and has whooping cough. In the midst of all that, she finds out she is pregnant again. Imagine how scary that all must seem. What kind of world will that baby grow up in? Will it even survive? She started off calling the baby Joyce, and later Carol, but eventually the baby would be called Tom - my dad. She was just about two months pregnant when she wrote this entry.

Throughout this project, I have tried my best to relate to Frances’ and Annette’s stories. There are so many common themes that show up in all three of our journal entries from our twenties, except for one. Motherhood. Both Frances and Annette were mothers in their twenties, while I was building my career. I draw from my experiences as a teacher, aunt, and friend of little kids, but I could never truly say that I understood their feelings. Until now!

One of the reasons I took some time off over the holidays was because…I found out I am pregnant! My husband and I are so excited, and we have launched ourselves fully into baby planning, shopping, etc. Once the shock wore off a bit, I had a bit of a revelation. My baby is due just a few days after my dad’s birthday. Essentially, I am in the same stage of pregnancy in 2018-19 as Annette was in 1941-42. How cool is that?!

As I get back on track with blog posts, I’ll keep alternating between stories from Annette, Frances, and younger Miranda, but as you can imagine, I’ll probably see the stories through a different lens. I can’t wait to see how everything - and I do mean, everything - develops!

I Had Every Attention

At my babies birth I had every attention. Mrs. Herbert was with me besides others. Annie is with me too, and she is the kindest of sisters. And if I do say so, she is one of the loveliest women I ever knew. Dr. Pearson will surely get a treasure. During my illness she has anticipated my every wish and stays devoted to our dear babies. - Frances, October 1891

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle announced today that they are expecting. On top of that, my good friend is expecting her second child, and my husband’s good friend just welcomed a beautiful baby girl, so there has been a lot of pregnancy talk in the air. I found it amusing that I came across this entry from Frances.

Here, Frances reflects on the support she received during the birth of her children. I am guessing that Mrs. Herbert was a nurse or midwife, but she also had her sister with her (who later married the family doctor, Dr. Pearson). She also refers to her pregnancy and birth as an “illness,” which may have been common at the time.

I marvel at how things have changed. Imagine how different it was to give birth in 1891 compared to now. Given the medical knowledge at the time, what a comfort it must have been to have your sister - your closest ally - by your side. Imagine the kind of care and treatment Meghan Markle will have throughout her pregnancy. Whether her family is present or not, I’m sure her experience will be quite different!

We can look to the past for guidance, and we can look to the future for hope, but at the end of the day, all we have is the present moment. At your life’s biggest moments, who is in the room with you?

You Should See Me Eat

“We sailed away from the U.S.A., Friday at noon and it’s a thrill I’ll never forget. Band playing, flags waving, streamers flying - gosh it was wonderful. Had quite a crowd down to see us off. We are certainly enjoying this. Gee, Mom, you should see me eat and sleep. We eat about six times a day. They wake us up at 7 with a glass of orange juice. At 8 we eat breakfast and even breakfast has six courses. At 10 o’clock they serve boullion and crackers on deck - wherever you happen to be - and at noon we have lunch. At 3 they serve tea - and what a tea - all those pretty gooey cakes, and you know my weakness for them. At 6:30 we have dinner and then at 9:30 after our movies or bridge game we eat again - lemonade and sandwiches. I never ate so many different things in my life. Eat a shrimp omelet for breakfast after grapefruit and bran and then top it off with buckwheat cakes and coffee. And to eat soup, fish, meat, potatoes, and vegetable salad and dessert for LUNCH. Each meal has about eight courses and about four choices to each course - and you may have as many choices of each course as you wish - comes in hand for desserts - that’s what I like best - to eat about 3 desserts instead of one.” - Annette, writing to her mother in March 1940

One of my favorite parts about this project has been ‘getting to know’ family members from my past. Even more exciting is reuniting with my living family members! Through this process, I’ve been able to talk to my Aunt Jackie, who is married to Annette’s youngest brother Don. I remember Aunt Jackie and Uncle Don visiting us when we were children. It has been such a joy to reconnect with her. She has so many stories about Annette and that side of the family. Which leads me to this entry.

Aunt Jackie sent me a book of letters sent from Annette and Clary, and in all my years of reading Annette’s diaries and letters, I had never seen these! Before Annette left for China, she worked for a publisher, and he offered to publish the letters they sent home while they made their way to China. This slim book contains their letters from February 1940 - September 1940, detailing their journey from St. Louis, MO to Enshih, China. The letters start off in Chicago, their first stop, and continue on to San Francisco, where they boarded a ship to carry them across the Pacific.

Reading her stories about the journey across the globe has been amazing. It fills in some gaps, and confirms some family legends about their big adventure. I just love this entry describing her ship, the Asama Maru.

Annette and Clary set sail on the Asama Maru on March 15, 1940. It was the fastest ship of its time, making the voyage from California to Japan in 15 days. A few months before, that same ship gained notoriety by attempting to smuggle German crew members into Japan - check out the ‘Asama Maru Incident.’

After a few days of sea sickness, Annette really got into the swing of life on the boat. I love her descriptions of all the meals! Her preference for sweets is, once again, quite evident. While on board, they played deck golf, shot clay pigeons, and took relaxing salt-water baths. One of my favorite lines in the entry was this - “here on the ocean, where the sea and the sky meet, you somehow seem so close to heaven - and it was so beautiful - I’ll never forget it.”

She was on her way to a brand new world, with her brand new husband, on a big fancy boat for 15 days straight. Can you imagine?? I can’t wait to explore these letters a bit more. Thanks, Aunt Jackie, for brand new insights into our family’s past!

Chill Until Set - or, Aspic For Breakfast!

We've been spending a lot of time with Annette lately, so I thought it was time to come back to Frances' kitchen.  Full disclosure here:  I did not find this recipe in Frances' diary.  This recipe has been in the back of my mind for years - nestled in the family cookbook that I love, but always a bit too weird to try.  Until now.  In honor of Mother's Day, I decided to go for it. 

This recipe is from my mother's mother's mother.  Let's break that down - my mother Guesna, her mother Frances, Frances' mother Guesna - who was the youngest daughter of Frances (whose diary we have been reading).  Apparently, my mother wanted to break the whole Frances-Guesna cycle by naming me Guesna instead of Frances.  Frances didn't write about food much in her diary, but it is not a far leap to guess that her daughter Guesna inherited the recipe.  What is this legendary and slightly terrifying recipe?  Tomato aspic.  Here we go!

Tomato Aspic

1 can (32oz) tomato juice or V-8

1 box gelatin (4 pkgs.)

1/8 cup red vinegar

1/8 cup white vinegar

1 t. salt

1/2 t. pepper

1 T. lemon juice

1 T. onion salt

1 T. celery salt

4 T. Worcestershire sauce

Optional ingredients:  sliced artichoke hearts;  shrimp; olives

Mix gelatin into heated juice; add remaining ingredients.  Add optional ingredients.  Pour into two well-greased ring molds and chill until set.

First, I gathered the ingredients. I wasn’t sure what ‘red vinegar’ was, so I went with red wine vinegar from my pantry. This was my first time using gelatin, too. More on that later. I chose to make the original recipe first, without adding any optional ingredients.

This Tupperware-brand ring mold belonged to my grandmother Frances. It seemed appropriate that its inaugural (for me) use would be the famous Tomato Aspic. I greased it with butter-flavored Crisco, because I was running low on butter - the horror!

I heated the juice in a sauce pan, then added the gelatin. All at once. Which was a mistake. It clumped up and gelled together, creating a sticky mess. I recommend adding one packet at a time, stirring constantly so it incorporates evenly. That must be one of those tips that gets ‘left out’ of family recipes.

After I worked through the gelatin disaster, I added all the seasonings and poured the mixture into the greased ring mold. I didn’t need two molds - this one worked just fine.

I popped the mold into the fridge (and added the lid later) to chill and set.

Turned out onto a glass plate! There was a bit of sticking. It seems that ‘well-greased’ really meant ‘greased beyond what you think is normal.’

First slices!

For Mother's Day breakfast, I served my former fiancé (now husband!) a lovely slice of tomato aspic.  "So, it's like tomato jello?"  Obviously, he was skeptical - as was I.  After the first bite, we both concluded that it's not nearly as bad as it sounds like it would be.  Overall, it was a bit salty for my taste, so I immediately started thinking about how to adjust the recipe.  Then it hit me.  I know this taste.  The gelatin texture is new, but I am confident that I can modernize tomato aspic.  The next time I am invited to a dinner party or brunch potluck, I am bringing a Bloody Mary Aspic.  Add some chopped celery, pickled green beans or okra, and a good bit of vodka, and you will have a delicious, boozy, throwback dish that no one will expect, but everyone will love!  I'll work out the details and post when I have the amounts worked out.  Apologies to my friends and family - a lot of tomato aspics are coming your way.   

I Want Him To Say Mother

I bathed both the little ones before breakfast.  Then push sister in the buggy in the dining room so that Willie could keep the flies off.  Brother big man sits at the table + must have his "gass" of water.  He will call me "Miss Fannie" + I want him to say Mother.  - Frances, June 1892

Frances certainly had her hands full with caring for her children and maintaining the household.  Here, she describes part of her daily routine.  However, Frances wasn't truly on her own.  She had a cook to help with preparing the meals, and a nurse, Willie, to help with the children.    

How many times have you wished for extra help during a hectic day?  In our modern times, some people are fortunate enough to have that kind of assistance.  In Frances' time, her 'helpers' were former slaves. 

After the abolition of slavery, so many white families kept their cooks, nurses, maids, etc.  I wonder about Willie's story.  Was she paid for her work?  Had she been with the family long?  She was obviously integral to the family's daily life.  From this post, it sounds like Frances' son spends more time with Willie than his own mother - even calling her "Miss Fannie" as Willie likely did.

It always makes me uncomfortable to delve into this aspect of my family's past.  It also makes me uncomfortable that, as a country, we are still struggling with equal rights for all.  Maybe discomfort is a place to start.  Maybe it opens the door to conversations.  Maybe it shines a light on the darkness.

Trying Not To Think About It

My last night in Augusta.  It's a weird feeling.  I'm ready to leave here.  What a great experience to have, and so early in my career.  I'm so worried about money.  I'm trying not to think about it, but I'm deep-down paralyzed with fear that I won't have enough money.  It's terrifying.  Goodbye, Augusta.  - Miranda, June 2005

Just as I started my second year of grad school, I won a 'full-time' job as Principal Clarinetist with the Augusta Symphony.  I didn't hesitate - I leapt into the unknown!  Over the span of a week, I quit school, found an apartment, packed up my life, and moved to Augusta, GA.  It was a one year position with no guarantee of extension, but still I was excited!  Supporting myself as a professional clarinetist at the age of 23!  

The job, as it turns out, was not so exciting.  After the year was up, I was ready to move on.  I had saved up $1000 and decided to move to Atlanta to try freelancing.  Another leap - but this time, even more unknown.  No job.  No leads.  I knew a few people from my time in Augusta, but they were just contacts - nothing solid.  As someone who likes a plan, this lack of plan was 'deep-down' terrifying.  But also, deep down, I knew this was the next step.  I believed I would make it work.

When I was little, my mom used to sing me songs from The King and I.  Here I am - 30 years later - playing the same show.  When Anna and her son arrive in Siam, the little boy asks what his mother does when she is afraid.  She says she whistles a happy tune (cue my mother singing to me as we dance around the den).  It's usually the scary moments that teach us the most.  At the time, they can be deep-down terrifying.  But we stand up tall and keep going.  Leaping into the unknown with nothing to hold on to....except maybe a little whistle.