Do you still follow old routines your parents did years ago ??

...but you are right about wet teabags looking horrid!🤣

I suppose I'm not copying my mother either to be truthful M0nica - tea bags just don't taste as good in my opinion even if they are fairly expensive ones (such as Fortnums or Newby) and are technically the same. I expect they use up their smaller (cheaper) leaves...

NotSpaghetti So do I, but not copying my mother more because when I firsy saw soggy teabags, I was revolted by them because, to me, they looked like tiny t**ds.

paris123 I still use loose tea in a teapot (2 "everyday" sizes to choose from) but your oldest sister wouldn't like it that I usually serve everyone in mugs - unless you happen to be my mother-in-law!

l was remembering last night before bed something else that happened .All my childhood days are flowing back so much today lol.
Here's another one l remember ( last one l promise )

All my older brothers and sisters always went to the stables on Saturday mornings while mom went shopping for the Sunday roast etc.
The stables were down a very long lane nk to our church and over the hump back bridge and too far for my little legs to walk too.
One Saturday morning , mom arrived home to find us younger kids waiting for her by the kitchen door, all giggling.

We pulled her shopping basket off her and took her by the hands , with her coat still on, to the french windows by the back garden.
She nearly fainted with shock !

Tied to our apple tree at top of garden was a massive cart horse lol.
It was larger than the 2 cart horses that pulled the coal wagon for our fortnightly coal delivery.....but ours in the garden was HUGE and pure white!

My 15 yr old brother had rode it bare backed from the stables lol.
To this day l dont know how he rode it through our small front gate, up the narrow path past our neighbours red front door and through the back gate.
He somehow then got it over the rockery that was in front of the french windows, under the rose arch, past moms prized garden gnomes on the lawn on the left and dad veg patch on the right. lol
Then over the long row of dads prized Lupins that separated it all..... and tied it to the apple tree.

l dont remember them ever going to the stables again after that. lol

Last night l was searching on the internet for info of where l used to live and to my joy found a website set up for the history etc.
Apparently its recorded the area is dated as far back as 1495.

But better still it had loads of Victorian photos of the areas before our house was built .The photos had all the little fetes that were held at the flower filled parks and our old steam railway station. All the children dressed in white aprons and hair ribbons and ladies in massive flower filled hats. It was just like you see on the film ' The Railway Children'
l looked to see if l could copy and paste but it says its not allowed.
Iv got to get my note book out and write down everything l remember of the 1950's before l forget it all.

Thank you all for all your memories, Iv enjoyed reading every single one,

Very similar paris 123 except baking on Thursday and market on Saturday. Sunday was always going to chapel with dad while mum cooked the Sunday roast

We had a Chihuahua odd little thing, may have been crossed with a Jack russell. My Mum, Dad and I were walking back from the vets and met the Midwife who had delivered all us Kids. She said "Oh is he a little Mongrel", most offended I retorted "He's got his pedigrees" They all laughed couldn't understand why.

I remember those stiff gauzy dresses and they were worn with pink leather ballet shoes .
And worse , my mother would get me to do a display !

There was one dress , which I hated - it was white and had a collar which was so uncomfortable .
Otherwise , there were two dresses in colours , which I've loved ever since - shades of green , mauve and purple .

Some of my dresses were bought , some made by my mother ( who was actually brilliant at sewing and knitting) and some were made by a dressmaker .
I once asked the dressmaker which church she went to.
I don't go to church , dear , she said .
I was so shocked and upset .
I couldn't stop talking about it .
I kept on thinking about this nice old lady going to hell !

Lilyflower

Paris123, I loved your post. You ought to write a book.

Ditto what Lilyflower says, and lovely thread to start Paris123. A book should be in the offing, or at least your memoirs for the family. Your childhood sounds like the perfect Enid Blyton story.
And I love your post too Lilyflower.
Everyone’s memories are so nice to hear and they make you dig back to your own family memories.

I loved the part about the yellow dress and puffed sleeves. I remember the delight when my mother bought me a gauzy party dress when I was five. I think I have been trying to recapture that dress in all my clothes since then.

Great story, Paris123. But you are quite capable of writing your own journal as your style is infused with your enthusiasm and attention to detail. You are undervaluing yourself- and I say that as an English teacher of 34 year’s experience.

Lilyflower

Paris123, I loved your post. You ought to write a book.

l was remembering so much last night that iv just got my note pad out to jot it all down. Then l was thinking' why dont l get hubby to buy me a nice journal nk week and write it all down in some sort of order. ie what each days were like for me in the 1950.s , holidays, Christmas etc.. not sure any of my grandchildren would read it but l thought id write it for me before l forget it all.
Last night l was thinking about the Sunday school mom sent all us kids to. The church is still there just a few mins from our house. Very small ancient Norman brick church,, where l was married in at age 18.
Built nk to a lovely hump back bridge over what l always thought was a river. l later learnt it was a canal.
(another story about what happen to me at that canal )
Its strange that mom and dad sent us every week to Sunday school because they never once went to church them selves.
She let us kids go as long as we wanted to go, we were never forced to go.
l decided one day at age 10 l wanted to go to a different church up the road 10 mins away She said ok as long as l took my baby brother age 3.
So early one Sunday morning she dressed me up like the fairy doll you get on top of the old fashioned Christmas trees. lol. l wore a large yellow nylon frill dress with puff sleeves and a massive yellow bow in my hair. White ankle socks and white leather button up sandels.
*iv only this morning realised why yellow featured very prominent in my life, ie my yellow crochet dress l made in the 60's,a favorite yellow frill blouse l bought and l even had yellow roses for my wedding flowers and had no idea why l chose that colour.
So off me and my little brother went to the different church down the road. We walked in and the service had already started, so we sat quietly sat at the back.
Everyone turned round. l couldnt understand, There wasnt on single child there. They were all old biddies.
The man at the front giving the talk had no white collar on, there was no organ being played for the songs only a stout old lady playing a piano, and not one single flower ,arrangement any where like we had in our church.
There was no church red cushion oak pews, here we sat on hard cheap wood chair's
After the service a kindly gent came and knelt next to us and explained.
This church was a 'born again' denomination and all their children was not allowed at the services but had to go up the road. l was shocked. l thought all churches was like ours C of E lol. l never went to church again till l got married.
My sister changed denomination later to her husbands when she married. Yes it was to the very one l took my baby brother to at age 10 lol.

Paris123, I loved your post. You ought to write a book.

My mother was always 'encouraged' to work by my father so she didn't have time or leisure for a fifties' housewives' routine. That said, she did do some things regularly and I remember her cleaning the house once a week in a fury. I only realised later that the rage was to give her the energy to do it all in a whirlwind - as I am the same now. We lived a somewhat chaotic life and moved often. I attended more schools than there are school years.

I remember mum wringing out the sheets in a mangle, a backbreaking task. She'd cook a roast every week and it was always shoulder of lamb one week followed by chicken the next. For 'afters' we had things like Jaffa Cakes, or Birds' trifle, or shop coffee cake or mandarins in evaporated milk. Then we watched the afternoon film on the 'telly' which I loved. I particularly recall being entranced by 'Waterloo Bridge' and 'The Searchers.' Looking back, both were unsuitable for a ten year old but I was a bit of a precocious child given all the perspective offered by moving and seeing things others didn't.

Moving on constantly meant I never had long friendships and grew rather reserved. Mum liked to read (magazines and stories mostly) and I became an absolute bookworm which I found (then) an adequate replacement for people.

I was actually quite a happy and active child. I loved running about and being outdoors and remember walks in the wood with an eccentric neighbour to see bluebells. I was always out on my (secondhand) bike exploring and having adventures. I don't think they really were adventures but I loved the books 'Ponies at Bunts' and others like it and so everything to me was like the lives of the middle class heroines. I made camps and, for one whole year, I imagined I was riding my own pony wherever I went.

Mum worked all day so I was on my own for all the school holidays and had a degree of freedom unimaginable for children today. I remember climbing up on the cooker to make my toast-and-jam lunch with the gas grill. How I didn't burn myself or immolate the house, I can't think.

One particular memory was when we had a delicatessen abroad, Dad came out the back from the shop and said to us, ashen faced and very shocked, 'They've killed Kennedy.' He had a fixed view, having lived through WW2 as a child, that we were all in danger of what he called 'atomic war.'

Another interesting recollection is of my dad's mum, who came to live with us to look after my little sister while mum worked. Nanny told me that she remembered Queen Victoria's funeral and the crowds lining the streets. She also described Penny Bazaars which seems to have been an early version of Poundland. When I hold my baby granddaughter I think of the physical family link running from 1901 to 2024. Amazing!

Today, in a reaction to the chaos of early years I suppose, I do have very fixed routines. I am the housekeeper in the morning doing all the chores, ironing, cooking prep and other mundane tasks and am Mylady in the afternoons living the life of Riley in my lovely house, garden and village. I actually like the physicality of housework and use it as my exercise regime.

I have had a very mixed life with some experiences that would horrify others but, altogether, my philosophy is that every moment I am drawing breath without being in mental or physical pain is a true privilege and a blessing.

What a lovely childhood you had paris123 thanks for sharing the memories.
I spent my first 10 years in NZ but came to England when my father died. Funnily enough, I am in NZ now visiting my DS who has emigrated here and yesterday I went on my own to look at our old house.
It looked different. An extra storey has been added plus a garage and there were cars everywhere. I didn't feel like knocking on the door.

When I was a child there were so few cars and more people walking about. I retraced my walk to school. The school has the same name but it's a new building.

My DM always worked so I don't remember a routine. After we moved to England my sister and I were given jobs and regularly cooked which I loved but I hated washing up.

Fish on a Friday yes but never on a Monday because fishermen didn't fish on Sundays so how could the fish be fresh 😊

I like a routine and I do still keep to one leaving at least one day a week free for whatever may happen.

No ….i refuse routine except for meds!
I’ve no responsibility to kids or grandkids anymore…I’m available if needed, as only 3 miles from any of them . How can we need to follow routine !? I clean the loo and kitchen everyday ….anything else when it looks as if needed. Too many books to read and friends to lunch with.

My MIL had a lovely Sunday roast on the table at 12 midday prompt. This plus boarding school put my DH off any form of rigidity around mealtimes and what we eat. We had routines when the children were at home, but since then it’s completely relaxed. I love cooking, especially for others, but couldn’t cope with knowing what we were having every day of the week regularly. Yet I know it’s what others love to do, including my friend who lives alone and has the same meals on the same day each week for simplicity.

Fish on Fridays, roast on Sundays, leftovers on Mondays. I still do this!

Paris123, you should have knocked on the door when visiting your gran’s old house. My parents went to visit mum’s village and family home in Ireland when on holiday, mum was in her 60s and had been away from the area for over 40 years. She knocked on the door and told the woman she had been born in the her house and could she take a photograph. The family invited mum and dad in, showed them around the house including the bedroom where mum was born. They were lovely warm people and they all had a cup of tea together.

What lovely stories. I did not grow up in England and only lived here since my mid 20’s so anything like that is so very interesting as a newcomer there were so many things I just did not get or understood. Now I know why me 2nd husband had to have potatoes with every every meal which I ribbed him mercilessly about. Wish I had not. And now I am going to read this thread again. I think there’s a book waiting to be written here.

biglouis

I have set routines for business otherwise my customers would never get their orders!

So far as housework is concerned my mother had the same routines as many of you - washing on monday, ironing on tuesday and so on.

Housework has always had quite a low priority with me and involved a lot of procastination in the past. I dont have a routine for that, I just employ a cleaner who has their own routines.

Top and bottom sentences = DITTO BigLouis
Centre sentence see above!

My mother worked, but my Aunt ( yes, my mother’s sister) lived with us, and did all the housework…. I have no idea if much of a routine was followed as a young girl I took it for granted all the housework was done when I got back from school - in the early 50s on ( I was born in 1946 ) . My father didn’t seem to do a lot other than garden work and follow his hobby in the loft ( he raced Pigeons …ok heard all the jokes !) so it was a bit like having a maid…and oh boy did I pay for that when I left home…no idea how to do much at all!
Still very ‘ad hoc’ re housework… but I can now play the ‘old lady’ card! 🙄

My mother in law had a very set routine. Thinking back it was really wonderful, their way of caring. My mother was the opposite. More like the Muppet chef in the kitchen: throwing a lettuce in the air, shooting at it and looking at the result fall on the plate! I am always lavishly dieting if there is such a thing!

Fairycakes

I was only talking about this to my husband yesterday. I told him that when my mum was young, all the neighbours followed the same routines. There was a day for washing windows, a day for scrubbing doorsteps (and woe betide any that left theirs looking mucky 😆) days for laundry and shopping. My mum sounded nostalgic talking about it. I think routines are a positive thing. I try to follow a routine at home - not quite the same as in my mum's day. I don't scrub the doorstep - not yet, anyway 😆 but I follow a system of cleaning (Flylady) which is fun and gives a feeling of community. I wonder if it gave the housewives of old a feeling of community when they all did the same chores on the same day.

Yes, l remember how important it was to her to scrub the door step.. but it was our back door step that led into the kitchen. Mom would then cover it in some type of polish called ' red cardinal'
l also remember that mom and dad never , ever , locked the door or the back garden gate or french windows then led into the garden, until they went to bed. They were always left unlocked !!
She never locked the doors or windowseven when she went shopping !! amazing!!!
As we kids were always in and out of the house we never had to have a key for if she was out we just knew the door would be un locked.
When neighbours came in for the 11 oclock cuppa they would just open the back door (the kitchen door) shout 'are you there' and if they got no answer they would go to the back garden gate, where mom would be pegging out the washings on Mondays,
l cant believe how much of that life has ingrained in me, as when l moved to this bungalow rhe first thing l did was have l french windows put in just like what we had at home. l didnt give it aqny thought aqs it was for practical reasons as this bungalow had not back door to the garden, so l said l wanted french windows put in from the bedroom so that l can see all the garden. And the first year here l bought all the cottage flowers we had back then to put in my own garden ie lupins, shasta daisys, mock orange plant, foxgloves, snow on mountain, ladies mantle, london pride, holly tree and so many more. l even sow every year all the annuls they had ie love in a mist, nasturums, night scented stocks, geraniums,
l even bought an apple tree the first yt we moved in, like we had at home, but mine is a dwarf one as my garden is a fraction of the size of what we had growing up.
l'm still on the look out for a dwarf lilac and purple michalmass daisys we had...
The only thing l cant buy are all the roses she had every where, as l dont know the names of the old varietes Some one suggested l look through a ' Austin Roses' catalog and l might just remember them from the pictures, which l would know them as iv never gotten them.
My childhood must have been so special that iv been trying to recreate it all since moving .