A friend just sent me an email with these facts and I thought they were interesting enough to pass along. Enjoy them.
The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn’t just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s:
Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.
Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, Don’t throw the baby out with the Bath water..
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying . It’s raining cats and dogs.
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house… This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That’s how canopy beds came into existence.
The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, Dirt poor. The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway. Hence the saying a thresh hold.
(Getting quite an education, aren’t you?)
In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old..
Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, bring home the bacon. They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat..
Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.
Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.
Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a ..dead ringer..
An old lady dies and goes to heaven. She’s chatting with St. Peter at the Pearly Gates when all of a sudden she hears the most awful, blood curdling screams.
“Don’t worry about that”, says St. Peter, “It’s only someone having the holes put into her shoulder blades for the wings”.
The old lady looks a little uncomfortable but carries on with the conversation. Ten minutes later, there are more blood curdling screams. ‘Oh my God,’ says the old lady, ‘now what is happening?’
‘Not to worry,’ says St. Peter, ‘She’s just having her head drilled to fit the halo.’
‘I can’t do this,’ says the old lady, ‘I’m going to hell.’
‘You can’t go there,’ says St. Peter. ‘You’ll be raped and taken advantage of.’
‘Maybe so, says the old lady, but I’ve already got the holes for that!
When I was a little girl I was taught (as most of us were) to say please, thank you, you’re welcome, may I? (which is truly different than can I?), excuse or pardon me, etc… I was forced to sit and write letters and thank you notes to grandparents and aunts and uncles for gifts they had sent because it was the thought that mattered and we needed to let them know that we felt blessed because they wanted to give to us… I was taught children had to be polite and courteous to their elders…
My father once told me as a teenager that it was okay for me to ‘debate’, but not to argue with an elder and that I better have my facts straight before I get too deep into the ‘debate’.
He also taught me that if you have something negative to say, you should always start with a positive so you don’t put the other person on the defensive before they hear what you actually have to say. He was also known for saying, “You can’t have a battle of wits with an unarmed person.” which became one of my personal favorites as I grew up and met more and more people.
So, here’s my question, if we were all taught this, why isn’t it being passed on to the next generation? Or am I just having that battle of wits with unarmed people.
There are a couple of family members (who shall remain nameless) who seem to be under the impression that what they believe, what they want and what they say is more important than anyone else’s thoughts, beliefs, wants & needs. Their ‘silver spoon’ sense of entitlement has been the subject of many a conversation at our house. These family members are the same ones that we never receive a phone call, card, gift or thank you note from for ANY event in our lives. Not to mention they feel it is okay to complain about their gift and or request a certain item in advance for their ‘day’. I have threatened more than once to send them each a copy of Emily Post with the necessary passages highlighted. My hubby always talks me out of it. Thank God for Fedex. At least I can track and know the packages get there. Is it too much to expect that they at least let me know the package arrived or at least appear to appreciate the time, thought and effort it took to pick out the gift that best fits them?
All of this reminds me of a Bill Cosby quote, “I don’t know the key to success, but the key to failure is to try to please everyone.” that pretty much says it all!
I believe the next time a ‘gift’ event rolls around that I will send a donation in their name to my favorite charity and ‘kill 2 birds with 1 stone’. At least the charity and I will both be pleased.
Does anyone out there agree with me?
If I Had My Life To Live Over by Erma Bombeck
The following was written by the late Erma Bombeck after she found out she had a fatal disease.
If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television – and more while watching life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”
There would have been more “I love you’s”.. More “I’m sorrys” …
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute… look at it and really see it … live it…and never give it back.
