Home Economics

Home Economics

I am a collector of books on home economics.  These books stress the economy of running a home.  Reading through these books I recognize some of the things my mother used to do.  Mom only had an 8^th grade education but learned the low-cost method of home management from my grandmother.

Home Economics was not something a woman with career goals studied in the 70’s.  I was college bound and didn’t need to take all those girlie classes.  I wasn’t spending my life cooking, cleaning, sewing and being domestic. Yuck!  Who needs that? Well as it turns out, everyone. 

As my children were growing up I attended school functions, coached a team, and made sure all the holidays were as they should be.  I worked full time and made the house a home to the best of my ability. The first time I can remember thinking they may not be getting all the education they needed was when the microwave broke.  They stood in front of it so perplexed I asked what was wrong. “How are we going to cook anything?” I looked at them and thought they were joking, “See that big square thing in the corner?  That does just want the microwave does and more.”  Laughing I walked away and didn’t give it another thought.

Now they are all “grown” up.  I visit my daughter at her apartment for lunch from time to time.  I noticed after several lunches that she always served tuna fish.  When I asked her about it she just said she didn’t know how to cook.  Smack right between the eyes, mother’s guilt.  Sure enough when I asked the others I got the same response.  All of a sudden home economics seemed like a very necessary class.

I don’t feel singled out in my oversight; in fact when I asked the kids friends it seemed the majority of them were in the same state.  None of these children were neglected in any way.  Grades were coached as well as sports teams.  As parents we made sure they were well adjusted budding adults on their way to independence.  They were trained to cope with the world but not  the laundry. 

In trying to remedy this situation I find myself telling them stories of how I learned to do things around the house with my Mom.  I grew up at the tail end of the baby boomers with parents who used words like “ice box’ and “phonograph”.  My Pop was the eldest son of Italian immigrants and my Mom was the eldest daughter of second generation Irish.  They were the age of my friend’s grandparents though my Mom swore I was planned.  They were children of the depression and children of the depression raise their children differently.

In explaining how I do things I started to wonder why these methods have been made so complicated over the years.  Not only complicated but dangerous and expensive.  Perhaps they are just getting lost is the media push to get the newest products into every one’s homes.

Well for me it is back to basics and I want to take you along for the ride.  Enjoy.

Cheers,
Maria

Mom in her Kitchen