Thank you, Barb!
When you wear a suit coat all the time, the only thing that shows is the collar and cuffs, so they could be removed and washed and starched, while the shirt was maybe washed once a week. The celluloid collar was kind of the social equivalent of the clip-on tie. It didn't have to be washed at all, being similar to thin plastic.
My grandmothers were both fairly obsessed with regularity, in the case of one to a degree that would probably be diagnosed as obsessive-compulsive. Laxatives were a general cure-all for centuries. I once did a paper on the herbs Chanticleer's wife prescribed for him in "The Nun's Priest's Tale," and if Chanticleer were a person, he would never have left the bathroom.
However, it always had electricity, central heating AND indoor plumbing.
Wow. That poor mom in
1900 House
had indoor plumbing, but she had to go downstairs every morning to start the water heating.
I need to see if the library has those DVDs. I want to watch the last episode of
Texas Ranch House
and watch the "ranch owner" and his wife get their comeuppance again.
Not to change the subject, but, um.
Um.
Huh.
[Oh lordy, I hadn't even gotten to all the pearl-clutching in the comments before I posted that. Dudes, the blog is called Slashfood. You had to guess they would go there eventually.]
Um indeed.
I'm thinking about the logistics of supplying that ingredient.
I'm not going to even bother to um: Ack! Ack!
Some things are not ingredients.
pearl-clutching
They're clutching their pearl necklaces, you mean?
Ginger, there are some tips on page 16.
I'm not going to take up that kind of cuisine; I just am imagining scenes like, "Here, honey. Take this cup. I'm busy cooking."
eta: Thanks, Jessica, for taking one for the team and reading that far.
Ew.
Huh. The 1912 hygiene book was already warning about the dangers of lead paint.
