Four Score and 10 Years Ago

Four score (that's 20 years each) and 10 years ago, my mom came into this world. If you don't know Gettysburg Address type math, that's 90 years! She was born on Good Friday in 1932 so she was special from the get-go.

Tomorrow we'll go Up North to celebrate with her and lots of family. The picture above is from her cake we had in Arizona. It took her 3 tries to get those 9 candles blown out. Apparently claims that us Hedberg ladies are full of hot air have been debunked. Thanks, Mom.

I really can't image what life was like as a child of the Great Depression. But of course the Internet has factoids to help us make a comparison from then to now...

List of 1932 news events and fun facts:

• US unemployment reaches 24% with many living in cars and shanty towns.
• Amelia Earhart completes the first non-stop solo flight across the Atlantic Ocean by a woman.
• The Bonus Army marches on Washington D.C.
• Charles Lindbergh son is kidnapped.
• BBC first TV Programming
• The big movies included Shanghai Express, The Sign of the Cross and The Kid From Spain
• US life expectancy: Males: 61.0 years, Females: 63.5 years

Cost of Living 1932

• Average cost of new house: $6,510.
• Average wages per year: $1,650.
• Average monthly rent: $18 per month.
• Cost of a gallon of gas: 10 cents.
• A loaf of bread: 7 cents.
• A pound of hamburger meat: 10 cents.
• Sugar 25-pound sack: $1.25.
• New car average price: $610.

Wow, huh? That price of gas almost makes me want to go back in time. But when you see the unemployment rate and know that people were living in the cars and struggling in many ways, then I'd prefer to stay put. Not that I have any connections to a time machine!

I guess it made Mom a stronger person. Also explains why she kept everything and reused everything possible. We are a wasteful society these days. Everything is disposable. Except the extra "stuff" a lot of us hang onto. You know... we children of the children of the Depression, and all that.

I'm thrilled the life expectancy has extended quite a bit since then, too. Males went from 61 years to 78 years and females went from 63.5 years to 82.2 years. Whoa, my 90-year-old mother is beating the odds. Hope that's hereditary. 

Happy 9 decades, Mom!

Word Origins for $200, Alex...

I realized when I mentioned Casey's birthday cake was our family's Wacky Cake recipe, there'd be some questions. Why is it called a "Wacky" cake?

I should have asked my mom when I talked to her on the phone this weekend. But instead, I acted like my dad, who has an explanation for everything, and gave my best LeRoy answer. I said it had something to do with the recipe not calling for any eggs and that was pretty "wacky" back in the Depression days. Now I see from my friends over at Wikipedia that I wasn't far off the mark (if you trust Wikipedia).

The entry for Wacky Cake (and it does exist) says: Wacky cake is a spongy, cocoa based cake. It is unique in that unlike most pastries and desserts, no eggs or milk are used to make the cake batter.

It is commonly believed Wacky Cake may have been created as the result of rationing during World War II, when milk and eggs were scarce. Active ingredients in wacky cake include flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, vegetable oil, white vinegar and vanilla extract. Some recipes add brewed coffee as an additional ingredient. The cake may be topped with icing or confectioner's sugar, or even served plain.

It is not known for a fact where Wacky Cake first originated, or who created it. However, it has been said that the recipe was first created by Beatrice Fe O'Hearn, who has passed it down through her family and friends since the late 1930's. The cake is considered a popular delicacy at bake sales in numerous rural regions of the United States.

I guess it is sometimes referred to as Kooky Cake and Crazy Cake, too. I'm just relieved the old family recipe has nothing to do with my family!

Undomestic goddess :: Part 2

Somewhere in my mother's house -- if she could find it -- is a book called "Clutter's Last Stand." She always wanted to get de-junked and de-cluttered, but, as a child of the Great Depression, she just couldn't let go.

As much as I have tried to fight it and absolutely hate that about myself, I have a bit (OK, more than a bit) of that hoarding instinct in me. Mind you, I don't save everything -- just the things I'm sure I'll need some day.

I'm pretty sure my sisters (of course, I am NOT labeling them as hoarders) and I think we are doing far better than Marlys. After all, we do not re-use plastic sandwich baggies and don't cut up used envelopes for scrap paper. We don't save our bread bags to line our boots in the winter either.

So what causes the clutter? Cool Whip containers I may need for leftovers someday (despite the fact I have a ton of Gladware), shoe boxes Carter may need for a school project, every Christmas, birthday and anniversary card anyone in our house receives, ticket stubs and programs, plus just about every paper and project sent home from school.

We have two desks in our office/computer room plus two filing cabinets. There really is a place for everything we need to keep. And everything in those drawers is labeled in folders and alphabetized. But then, there's that other stuff that gets thrown on the desk, which is one big "to be filed" pile.

Last night Jim needed me to find something for an insurance form. I said I didn't know where that is. He assured me that the last time he needed it, I found it right away because it was in some "logical" place. Well, logic escaped me and I couldn't find it.

I was really frustrated after a long search. I vented about how I had filled up a garbage can with "clutter" I threw out last week but apparently I was working in the wrong room. I needed to be de-junking the computer room not the bedroom and bathroom!

Sensing my frustration, Carter (who by the way is a third-generation clutter bug) gently takes my hand, looks me straight in the eye and tells me the following: "Mom, how would you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. You would need to chew and swallow before you could take another bite. So you can't run around doing a million things at once or your mouth is too full. You need to bite one. Get done and do the next one. OK? No more anger."

I guess the 9-year-old is the keeper of the logic in our house. I believe I can get organized one step (or bite) at a time. I am seriously feeling good now about eating this elephant. I just hope it's calorie-free.