Clothing made from feed sacks was a great boon to the economy of the cash-strapped depression. Farm wives eagerly collected and traded these pretty printed bags. Three would make a nice ladies dress, provided the skirt was not too full. Two would make a short-sleeved shirt for a man when plaids and stripes came in. My mother was born deep in The Great Depression and remembers her mother showing the store-owner a scrap and asking him to “Try to get me one more of this nice rose print if any come in.” Crisply starched and ironed, they made sturdy, attractive dresses. Fading was a problem. Hems were deep so they could be let down. Her mother frequently used rick-rack to conceal the fade line when the hem was dropped. The tie belts at the waist made it possible to adjust for longer wear.
Underwear was made from the soft cotton flour bags. As often as not, my grandmother used strips of rubber cut from inner tubes for elastic. It was not unknown for the rubber to snap and bloomers drop to the floor, humiliating the wearer and delighting onlookers. Fabric remnants went into a scrap bag to be made into patchwork quilts.
Dear Auntie Linda, I have a dilemma. My divorced, 34-year-old daughter, Gwen asked me to help move her and her three children to more than five hundred miles to California where she had taken a job as an apartment manager. When we got to the address, Gwennie ‘fessed up that she was there to marry a 21 year old man she’d met online. Of course, I was furious. The man was shocked to find out about the three children. I tried to talk Gwennie out of staying, but she was adamant. Thank goodness, the children wanted no part of it and we left for home immediately. Gwennie refused my calls for two weeks. I got a call from her yesterday. She is staying at a women’s shelter and wants me to send money for plane fare home. I don’t have an extra dollar. I would have to sell my car to raise plane fare and then I couldn’t get to work. My thirteen-year-old granddaughter is looking after the two little ones since I can’t even afford a babysitter. I wouldn’t be able to feed them without help from the foodbank and church.
Gwennie has always been a pathological liar. I have no confidence that she is truthful now. Am I wrong to refuse to help? Worn out with Gwennie
Dear Worn out, Sounds like a good time for Gwennie to learn to manage for herself, especially since she is not believable. If she is in a womens shelter, she should avail herself of their services. You have your hands full caring for Gwennie’s children. Your first responsibility is to them. You might consider seeing if Children’s Service can offer you any financial help since their mother is out of the picture. They may be eligible for benefits as dependent children.
Dear Auntie Linda, My husband’s sister Trudy is ten years older than I. Neither she nor my mother-in-law has ever accepted me nor welcomed me to the family. This year, Trudy gave me a sweater she claimed was hand-knitted for Christmas. When I got home I found a manufacturer’s label in it. She is self-righteous and critical of me, often snidely pointing out my inadequacies as a wife, mother, and housekeeper, saying, “This is how our family always does things.” Should I mention that I found the label on the sweater? It might shut her up. My husband wants me to let it go in the name of peace, but I’d like her to know I know. What should I do? Snubbed
Dear Snubbed, Maybe you should wear it next time you see her and leave it where she can’t avoid seeing label. Things like that happen sometimes when you are a little untidy. Auntie Linda
Please read this
If you ever see a person that has a black dot on the palm, you should call the police immediately. The black dot means that the person is in trouble. –
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I resolve to work with neglected children. (my own).
I will answer my snail mail with the same enthusiasm with which I answer my e-mail.
When I hear a funny joke I will not reply, “LOL… LOL!”
I will not ring the stewardess button on airplanes just to get her phone number.
I will balance my checkbook. (on my nose).
I will think of a password for my computer other than “password.”
I will try to figure out why I “really” need 11 e-mail addresses.
I will go into McDonald”s and order a McSpreader
I will go into McDonald”s and order a McSlurry
I will find out why the correspondence course on “Mail Fraud” that I purchased never showed up.
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