The Musings of the Midnight Fox

Bit of a back story first. When my mum and dad married in 1963, about six months after my paternal grandmother Marge went to my Mum and said "You know, George is looking a bit thin. You might need this." And she gave my mum a copy of the 1962 Commonsense Cookery Book. From it, my mother learned the basics of plain cakes, Irish Stew and Puff Pastry. She taught me from the book, and it still has the best profiterole recipe I've ever used.

When my grandmother moved from her home to a retirement village, we discovered among her belongings a copy of the 1926 Commonsense Cookery Book, and I can just imagine young Marge, about 6 months into her marriage, being approached by Granny Richards and handed a copy of the book and told "You know, Chas is looking a bit thin, dear. Perhaps you might need this..."

One of the recipes in the 1926 edition is for vegetable soup, and starts off "3d worth Beef Bones". The 1962 book has many of the same recipes, including this one, and it still starts off with "3d worth Beef Bones". You'd think in 36 years the value of beef bones might have changed a little. (For those not sure, 3d is "threepence", which translates as 2½ cents. It would buy 2 eggs out of a dozen in 1926, and less than 1 egg in 1962.)

Anyway, without further waffling, here's the recipe I first made from the 1962 cookbook. I shall translate the whole thing to modern-day terms, unless of course you're comfortable with "moderate ovens".
( Apple Cake! )

dogorcuton is getting very old, very fast. He's having trouble walking, can't see very well, can't hear much either, and spends a lot of time snoozing.

Most times he can't find his way out the back to pee, so we're doing a lot of cleaning up after him.

The vet today took some blood, and is checking to see if Cuton's kidneys can handle a higher anti-inflammatory, which will help with the walking.

The poor old thing is shivering a lot of the time, and we think it's more pain and unsteadiness than cold. And his tail?

His tail barely wags any more. Those who met him would know that Cuton's tail is usually on full-bore, all the time. Now? A pathetic wiggle.

Mind you, at the Vet, he perked right up and was wanting to go exploring. And he crapped on the floor, so that part of him is working well.

As is his sense of smell... sort of. He got some chicken today. It disappeared as if inhaled.

But ... yes. He's getting old. And then I remembered this. Which is making me cry.

I love you, Cuton. Even if you stole all that chocolate. And all those danishes. And the cheese. And the whole Christmas Cake. And left your smelly bone in the wardrobe...

Yeah, posting a lot now, aren't I? So sue me :-}

My father has found out through a cousin lots of details about my great-grandfather's brother, my great-great-uncle Seymour. Born 1866, married four times, several children, jailed four times for embezzlement, stealing, false pretenses ... and bigamy.

Right.

And this was just by the time he was my age!

So obviously I am just not keeping up the family traditions spectacularly enough.

( Rap Sheet under the cut, if you're curious. )

Stop laughing. I'm serious.

My paternal grandfather's maternal grandmother's maiden surname was Emo. Which makes me 1/16th Emo, and da_norvegicus and quatranoctal both 1/32nd part Emo.

More importantly, that branch of the family came from Ireland, but prior to that had been Italian! That's one bloodline I hadn't expected. Brothers and cousins of Elizabeth emigrated to Ivanhoe, Ontario; and Nebraska, and all sorts of places!

I think I'll go and write some angsty poety now.

This is the link, if you're interested - it's a PDF. Page 3, Elizabeth Emo, born 1835.