tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-94707932011-04-22T12:18:13.696+12:00Jocelyn Judd, my grandmother, sent many contributions ("pars") to local newspapers and magazines in the 1950s and 1960s, using a variety of pen-names. These stories, opinions, recipes and household hints provide an interesting view of family and farm life in the Waikato, New Zealand at that time.Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comBlogger411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1138488851644425222006-01-29T11:53:00.000+13:002006-01-29T11:54:11.660+13:00

We've movedThis blog is now at Spunsilk.wordpress.com

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102288279617408202004-12-21T13:07:00.000+13:002004-12-21T09:06:54.853+13:00

Originally Published: November 1963 Received: 4/6 Who started this craze, I wonder, Spanish skipping? Are your children enthusiasts? Has it spread throughout the country or are just Waikato young fry spending every available spare minute energetically hopping over and twisting ankles in and out of elastic? It's completely new to me but thank goodness the "tools of the trade" are considerably

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102287581496209202004-12-20T11:55:00.000+13:002004-12-21T09:06:26.260+13:00

Originally Published: May 1962, Farmers Weekly We had moved to a new town to live and were happy and pleased with everything around us. The children and I went into town to do the week-end shopping, all of us enjoying searching around the still unfamiliar shops. It was pleasant for there were more and better stocked shops than in our former little town. At the butcher's shop we paused, gazing

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102286539860588762004-12-19T11:40:00.000+13:002004-12-21T09:06:09.980+13:00

Originally Published: October 1953 Received: 2/6 Few remain sincere and faithful in their practical expression of sympathy and well-wishing when an illness drags on through weary months. If you begin well when a friend goes to hospital continue to write and visit regularly lest you do more harm than good. The psychological side is almost as important as the medical one. -- Spun Silk (Cambridge)

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102286047382944582004-12-18T11:18:00.000+13:002004-12-19T20:37:34.273+13:00

Originally Published: Monday, November 2, 1953 Received: 6/- Many of us, I feel sure, share your views, "Al Fresco," regarding the contemporary vogue of giving expensive presents. In my opinion it is actually spoiling the giving of gifts. The financial strain and drain is destroying the real meaning of giving. Actually, giving should be a spontaneous, joyous experience, but nowadays, with

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102285096855433432004-12-17T11:17:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:18:58.670+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Most of us are called "Mum" after a few years of married life. Sometimes, when my husband wants me to come quickly he hails me by my Christian name. It's so unusual to be addressed as "Jane" by him now that I instantly obey his summons. Quite truthfully I always secretly panic when I hear his voice call "Jane." We women known as "Mum" are indeed privileged. Don't

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284998156444032004-12-16T11:15:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:20:20.826+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Oh, Countrywoman, I think perhaps there will be many women up in arms over the views of your friend who declares "the majority of modern mothers are too lazy to discipline their children." I, for one, feel that is a most unfair and unenlightened statement. A minority, perhaps, but surely not the majority. Please don't forget that the majority of children are well

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284936381356752004-12-15T11:14:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:21:39.093+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Poor "Lomilili" and your unstaked show glads. It's always the way, isn't it? If one slips up on a task for lighter pastimes one gets caught up one way or another. As my mother says, "Laziness is not good unless well carried out!" I hate the task of staking, but of course do it (most times!) and am gratified when I see what a difference it makes. At this time of year

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284862337383762004-12-14T11:09:00.000+13:002004-12-14T12:17:47.110+13:00

Originally Published: March 1965 Farmer This is sometimes called the Space Age, or sometimes the Jet Age, but I often think it would be more apt to call it the Talk Age. Don't you think there seems to be so much talk these days that at times it often drives on to distraction? I, for one, long sometimes to retreat. I once mentioned to a friend that I thought a housewive's religious retreat would

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284591860200402004-12-13T11:08:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:22:27.270+13:00

Originally Published: Undated A number of Mrs. Bs have lately expressed a love of fishing. Now I love fish: a fish meal is always one I enjoy, but fishing oh no, a thousand times no! I just can't. It all sounds very hypocritical I know, but it's true. I couldn't catch a fish because it seems to me so cruel. I shudder at the sight of a fish freshly landed, its mouth jaggedly torn and bleeding

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284518968991532004-12-12T11:06:00.000+13:002004-12-12T17:56:01.596+13:00

Originally Published: The Farm Home Journal, September 10, 1964 Where do you sit and what do you do, while talking on the telephone? Now there are two simple questions; who will answer them? I'm sure some honest answers will bring to light a wide variety of sitting places and occupations. I'll own up. I usually end up sitting on the floor because as sure as it's lengthy telephone talk the "

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284370171437962004-12-11T11:05:00.000+13:002004-12-11T14:16:53.390+13:00

Received: 4/1- Recently I bought myself a new foundation garment, and stiff, unyielding new corsets and my not-so-slim-as-it-used-to-be figure were for a while somewhat antagonistic towards each other, resulting in some rather grim struggles! All this and my suffering comments evidently did not escape the notice of my four-year-old. Today I washed her preparatory to an outing, then sent her to

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284256759432112004-12-10T11:01:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:23:43.950+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Spring is here. I always remember writing when I was 13, an essay on the subject, and sending my effort off very proudly to the editor of a children's page. Back came a note pointing out that spring was a most "capricious maiden," liable to change her mood in a moment or so from very nice to very nasty. Of course out came my dictionary to look up "capricious," and I

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102284043120796032004-12-09T10:59:00.000+13:002004-12-09T09:21:25.823+13:00

Originally Published: New Zealand Farmer December 1964 Do you study the bridal photographs in your daily paper? You do, well I expected you would. Then I wonder if any of you have ever noticed how often the happy newlyweds resemble eachother in facial features. Just start noticing and you will be amazed at the great number of strong resemblances - the same wide or little mouths, big or little

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102283796573150632004-12-08T10:55:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:24:46.753+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Received: 13/6 I won't be having a cat for company when I'm alone at night. Once was enough. Dad was out, so I called in the cat, made a fuss of him till he settled himself purring contentedly on the mat, and I settled down with my knitting. All went well for a while, then suddenly puss' purring abruptly ceased. His ears were cocked, his eyes large, his gaze fixed

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102413579438362892004-12-07T22:52:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:25:33.456+13:00

Originally published: Undated, NZ Dairy Exporter It's surprising really the number of people who regard "par writers" as a breed apart. I've had similar experiences to yours, "Real Estate." The usual answers to my harmless little question, when I thought I've run a fellow scribe to earth, has been a disdainful "I'm much too busy for that," which to sensitive me, seems to imply that only the

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102283464232876162004-12-07T10:50:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:26:08.446+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Winter's fogs and rains make even the nicest lawns mushy and messy for the children to play upon, with sad results to their play clothes. I solved the problem of wet, stained underclothes and skirt hems by making my two lasses plastic over-pants. These are pulled on over all clothes when the girls go out to play and they can then sit in their sandpit or on the wet

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102283382231814032004-12-06T10:49:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:26:50.816+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Perhaps I can help "Lottie" a little in her trouble with O.S. lingerie which shrinks and splits. I have found from experience that celanese or locknit which has a dull, "flat" surface is the kind that shrinks and splits. The celanese which is glossy and silky to feel is far superior, not only for durability and non-shrinkage, but also for appearance. Then, my dear,

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102283324232749542004-12-05T10:47:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:48:44.233+13:00

Originally Published: January 1965 Received: 6/6 Is Avana Blaike destined, some day, to find the goose that lays the golden egg, or should she be toiling energetically for the Egg Marketing Board? Your guess is as good as mine, and I imagine plenty of us have been working on the problem of you and your eggs, Mrs Blaike. I don't dream of eggs - I see them, all brown and thick shelled and intact

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102283205846968682004-12-04T10:44:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:46:45.846+13:00

Originally Published: July 13th 1964 There has been controversy lately regarding "de-barking" dogs. This I consider to be wickedly cruel and cannot agree with any argument for such a heartless action. There are too many neglected little "pet" dogs already. I think of a little Corgi that lives near me. His barking and howling often disturb my sleep but I wouldn't think of taking away his voice.

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102283087543412972004-12-03T10:42:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:28:38.390+13:00

Originally Published: Undated You may read this and never know that we stood one day recently, my parents and I, and looked with nostalgia at your front paddock. It was green and smooth, just and ordinary farm paddock -- quiet, with no cattle grazing. There were no buildings, just a few old trees scattered here and there no far in from the road -- and apple and a plum tree, mossy with age, a

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282774619460502004-12-03T10:38:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:42:25.263+13:00

Originally Published: May 1962 Farmers Weekly Flavoured butter, ugh (pardon the shudder, but I just can't help it). Oh, no. I cannot imagine that flavoured butter would be nice and, anyway, it would take away some of the pleasure of eating -- it's nice to spread our bread with good New Zealand butter, then view the table and decide whether we will spread cheese, jam or honey on our slice. I

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282863368988552004-12-02T10:40:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:29:51.346+13:00

Originally Published: Undated So long as you or your immediate neighbours don't mind a smell, lawn clippings fermented in a drum of water make a splendid liquid manure. I can really recommend this manure, especially for leaf producing vegetables, such as lettuce and cabbages, but it is also very good for all garden plants. Use about every ten days around the base of the plants. You can almost

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282643664083592004-12-01T10:36:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:37:23.666+13:00

Originally Published: July 5th 1962, Farmers Weekly I think we all know that the saying "procrastination is the thief of time" carries far more than a degree of truth, but how many of us realise that procrastination can also be the thief of health? Yes, I know, we do put off those visits to the doctor or the optician for various reasons, but I don't believe it pays us. For years I delayed

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282561886128632004-11-30T10:34:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:36:01.886+13:00

Originally Published: 1963 Lucky New Zealanders - though winter comes, and the winds blow and the rain falls, and even though it may snow, we have good homes, plenty of fuel for fire and bodies, and clothes to keep us warm. Millions are far less fortunate. So then, while we enjoy our comforts and warmth in the long winter evenings, why not use some of our time to brighten the lot of those who

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282484606734952004-11-29T10:33:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:34:44.606+13:00

Originally Published: June 1965 Some of the things we do it our family have been going on for so many years now that they seem to have outgrown the simple name of "habit" and qualified as family traditions, though they are simple enough things in themselves. Tea by the fire on winter Sunday evenings, for instance, with everyone sitting on the floor, except father who must preserve his dignity,

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282373639296122004-11-28T10:31:00.000+13:002004-12-19T20:46:59.170+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Pukeko as wild game was as popular as wild duck in our home. I have never cooked the bird myself, but from memory this is the sucessful procedure followed. Dad used to skin the bird, not pluck as is usual. Then "draw" it. Mother took over from there. She made a most tasty filling from chunks of bacon (we used to cure our own) and lots of tiny onions, salt and pepper

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282257345945642004-11-27T10:28:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:30:57.346+13:00

Originally Published: April 1962 Farmers Weekly Received: 12/3 This modern jargon! Sitting outside in the cool of the evening in the motor camp while on holiday, I heard the following one-sided conversation from a woman who alighted from a car: "I'll say. Yeah. You're telling me. OK. See yah." I wondered if the person she was answering spoke the same language. This sort of thing creeps in so

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102282038326985162004-11-26T10:26:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:27:18.326+13:00

Originally Published: November 1962 "Mum, the cat's inside, and Mrs Blank is on the phone and wants to know what her child has to do for her toymaker's badge. The doctor's turning in at our gate now Mum, and, Mum, I think the sausage rolls are burning. Where's my boyfriend's jersey and please can we go to the pictures? You said yes, Mum? Then quick, where's our lunch? We'll be late; Dad's home,

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102281924213235462004-11-25T10:24:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:25:24.213+13:00

Originally Published: November 1955 Received: 4.6 Like a previous writer I also was taught to open wide the door in answer to callers. Mother instilled in us, too, a door-shutting technique. We were taught never to close the door on departing guests until they were out of sight of the door. To slam it ere the reached the gate was disgusting. A door quickly closed signified, Mother said,

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102281793037748132004-11-24T10:21:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:23:13.036+13:00

Originally Published: January 1962 Received:5/- The travelling salesman who ate the little boy's eggs reminded me of the traveller who was invited in to join a large family at lunch. Conversation flowed freely, the food was good and a most convivial atmosphere prevailed until the traveller was asked to try the apple jelly (it was in once of those now seldom seen jelly jars). He brightly replied,

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102281677123119132004-11-23T10:20:00.000+13:002004-12-19T15:34:39.613+13:00

Originally Published: Undated Reading the recent pars about foam rubber mattresses, I thought I would pass on a hint for relief for the owners of tired, aching legs. Many of us feel we are less efficient and quick if we sit to do dishes, vegetables and the ironing, yet our tired legs grow wearier and more painful as we stand. So here is a way to gain relief whilst standing. Invest in a slab of

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102281579587762722004-11-22T10:18:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:19:39.586+13:00

Originally Published: September 1962 Why can't you or I start a fashion? If I had gone down the street last year in a jerkin, the fashionable people would have chuckled and said, "Look at that dear old soul in her sleeveless shirt. She must be feeling the cold to wear such a quaint little old bodice." But now jerkins are all the rage and besides being sensible they really are smart. But who set

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102281232855970032004-11-21T10:11:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:14:29.430+13:00

Originally Published: New Zealand Farmer, November 17, 1955 Received:15.0 Come on, farm wives, join forces with me and let's have a campaign for better, neater, nicer cream stands. Surely a lot of you are like me -- always trying to talk your good farmer to erect at your front gate a cream stand worthy of the good name and social position of whoever you may be. But, oh my goodness, aren't men

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102280326167698702004-11-20T10:56:00.000+13:002004-12-06T09:58:46.166+13:00

Originally published: July 15, 1954 Received: 10/6 During our recent seaside holiday and the many pleasant hours we spent on the beach we watched the gulls. How they swarm around for food and how they squabble over it. In almost every group of gulls we watched there seemed to be one or two lame birds, sometimes limping badly and quite often using only one leg to hop about on. We wondered at

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102279879234253442004-11-19T10:50:00.000+13:002004-12-06T09:51:19.233+13:00

Originally published: Freelance, April 1959 Who said the age of discovery was past? Children, anyway, still find much to discover -- and in their own backyards. One I know, alert, intelligent and an ardent nature-lover, is really living in an age of discovery -- at the age of four years. In and out of the house she darts, the day long, like the fantails she admires so much, giving breathless

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102279744521397442004-11-18T10:47:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:15:34.933+13:00

Originally published: April 1962 Farmers Weekly Winter will be here before long. It does have some bright spots, but most of us will be lucky if we escape coughs and colds. I would like to pass on a wonderful hint. If you have anyone who suffers from bronchitis try pouring a little methylated spirits on a clean, soft cloth and pin the cloth, folded, loosely around the patient's throat. The fumes

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102279616930257072004-11-17T10:45:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:16:12.470+13:00

Originally published: May 1 1954 I wonder how many Mrs B's are feeling better now since the visit of our gracious and truly lovely young Queen. Never fond of eleborate clothes myself, as I am sure frills and flounces don't suit my type, I now feel more assured that I look right when I venture forth in my simply-styled frocks and not-too-fancy accessories. The Queen's attire, of course, came

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102279495018328132004-11-16T10:43:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:17:36.570+13:00

Originally published: 26 March 1954 New Zealand Farmer The article "Look Out for That Worn Flex" in the New Zealand Farmer, February 11, was most sensible and timely. The article states reasons for never running an electric fire or heavy appliance from a light socket. To that I would add another reason. Having been guilty myself of using a light socket to run the radiator until the light flex

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102279274114101452004-11-15T10:40:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:17:15.136+13:00

Originally Published: Woman's Weekly 1953 Just another aspect on this controversial subject of "white lies" versus the whole truth always. Forgive me if I presume to say that most of us have often uttered a little lie in the following manner: The usual greeting when one meets a friend is almost invariably followed immediately by an inquiry to one's health. You know the sort of thing, "Hello,

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9470793.post-1102278829729214662004-11-14T10:28:00.000+13:002004-12-06T10:16:58.553+13:00

Originally Published Date: October 1953 Received: 2/6 How they can "let you down" these children! I have been diligently teaching my little pre-school daughter nice polite manners, with a very satisfactory result, too, until the arrival of visitors to afternoon tea. Daughter enjoyed afternoon tea with us, all going well until she was offered another piece of cake. "No, thank you, I'm full," was

Spun Silkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15126747375066712504noreply@blogger.com