In spite of being dysfunctional, the women in my family were pretty traditional in their skills. Possibly because my grandmother grew up on a farm with 12 brothers and sisters, so you couldn’t help but know how to get the job done. She also had a bachelors in home-ec, uncommon for a young lady in the first few years of the 20th century.
Besides being a darn good cook, she cranked out some terrific doll clothes for us. My mother also made quite a few of our clothes, although this may have had more to do with my father being a poor graduate student at Princeton than any other reason. When our kids were little, I made my own share of children’s clothes. Boredom and a small paycheck are great incentives.
My sewing days pretty much ended once I began working. That, plus any teenager willing to wear home-produced clothes is an aberration of nature. I did my share of quilting, but then a home only needs so many quilts.
I dug out my iron today for the first time in – literally – about a year and a half. I’d bought a shirt that of course lost its body once washed and I thought I’d at least start out with it unwrinkled. Which set me thinking.
How many people nowadays know how to iron a shirt? You know, start with the back, do the collar next, then the sleeves, and finally the front. Or at least that’s my routine.
How many have ever made their own pie crust? Or even a pie, for that matter?
How many people can cut up a chicken, or hem something?
When we’re all tossed back to pre-industrial days by Putin, some of these skills might come in handy.