A chococolatey jigsaw

As readers of my previous blogs will know, sometimes the jigsaws I do prompt observations, even a  little research into the background of some of the themes of the jigsaws. So it is with the one I did yesterday. It was entitled. “Cadbury Heritage Collection” & involved a selection of chocolate/cocoa ads.

My first surprise was the ads were both for Cadbury’s & Fry’s chocolates/cocoa. I always assumed the two companies were quite separate until fairly recently & all these ads predate the Second World War. I was surprised to discover the two companies had started to merge as early 1919 according to Wikipedia.

My second surprise was seeing one ad depicting the Fry’s manufactory at Bristol.  The surprise was twofold. The first cause of surprise was that the factory was in Bristol. I somehow had it in my mind that the Frys, like the Terrys, were based in Yorkshire, not Bristol. The second surprise was the use of the word “manufactory”. It had never occurred to me that the word “factory” is essentially an abbreviation of what was a “manufactory” where things were manufactured, including chocolate & cocoa.

One of the ads depicts a military scene with the words “Our other ally” & “Fry’s cocoa. Navy & army contractors”. I found myself trying to work out during which war this ad was produced. My immediate thought was the Crimean. It has a very dated feel. Then it dawned upon me the soldiers were in khaki so it was possibly the Boer War. I’ve finally, just today, concluded it is the First World War as some of the men are dressed in the blue/grey tunics & red trousers of the French army of that time. This view is reinforced by the presence of the French tricolour alongside the British flag, and the French were our allies in that war.

My eyes stray to another ad. This time it’s for Cadbury’s Fruit Crêmes. I remember Fry’s Fruit Creams, but not Cadbury’s. Maybe the latter stopped making them after the merger with Frys. The variety of fruit shown is unusual too. There are strawberries, cherries & oranges. The Fry’s Fruit Creams, if I remember right, had strawberry, orange, lime, but no cherry.

My eyes stray to another ad. This ad has underneath the words “THE VICTORIAN GROCER. A picture advertisement, in which the stylish grocer’s shop of the seventies is recognised. The footman and the seated housekeeper suggest a West End clientele – or at least and Edgbastonian!” How’s that for snobbery? Reassuring maybe if you are from Edgbaston. I wonder if Edgbaston was mentioned as Edgbaston is near Bournville in Birmingham & where Cadbury’s chocolates are made. This ad is for Cadbury’s Cocoa Essence, whatever that is.

The staff behind the counter is smartly dressed in white shirts, with black waistcoats with gold fob watch chains, black tie. The scales are the balance sort that are the symbol of Libra astrologically. One man is patting some butter into an appropriate shape for the seated housekeeper.

Below is an ad for Fry’s Cocoa featuring a man climbing in what I presume is meant to be the Alps. His dress seems singularly unsuitable, with his spats & feathered hat. He dangles out from the cliff edge, supported only by his stick which is hooked into a crevice. On another shelf he had a little kettle on a camping stove & a tin of cocoa. In his other hand he has his large cup of cocoa. Much as I admit in early days you did climb in ordinary everyday clothes, this seems a bit extreme. As for the dangling it looks positively dangerous. I doubt the “Sustaining & Invigorating” effect of the cocoa would be of much help as he hurtled down the mountainside.

Then, on the other side of the jigsaw is an ad featuring a very black boy handing a very white girl a cup, presumably full of the Cadbury’s Cocoa the ad is promoting. Both the children are seated on a rug on sand(?). Presumably the black boy is emblematic of the tropical countries from which the cocoa originally came. But were the two races so friendly at this time? I would guess we were in the Victorian era. It would be nice to think they were. The black child is just that - black with slightly greenish highlights. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody that black, & certainly not with green highlights. Even the darkest of Africans seem dark brown to me.

The attitude to food nutrition seems different from today. One advert is for Cadbury’s Cocoa. I would guess from the fashions, this ad dated from the late Victorian/early Edwardian era. At the bottom of the ad there is a chart featuring the comparative value of foods. It compares Cadbury’s cocoa, raw beef & mutton, eggs & white bread for their “nitrogen (flesh forming)”, “carbon (heat giving)” & mineral qualities. In all categories cocoa outperforms the others. Apart from the minor detail, we would not test for nitrogen or carbon today – I would guess these would be replaced by protein for flesh forming & calories for heat – cocoa would hardly be regarded as a health food today. As a confirmed chocoholic I only wish it was! The rest of the ad shows three particular groups of people that would particularly benefit from having cocoa – children (“healthy body for a healthy mind”), sportsmen (for “muscular development”) & the elderly (for comfort”).

In the centre of the jigsaw is an advert with the simple words “Cadbury’s chocolate Made at Bournville”, surrounded by images of 6 women.  These women are labelled “The Tennis Girl”, “The Opera Girl”, “The Motor Girl”, “The Cycling Girl”, “The Yachting Girl” & “The Golf Girl”. All wear hair piled big on their heads. All wear hats except the one at the opera who has a tiara instead. The motor girl has her hat tied on with a scarf. Clearly these are the days before cars had roofs. I have visions of the old British film “Genevieve” and smile. The various sporting activities are presumably related to the athletic producing qualities of Cadbury’s Cocoa, mentioned in the previous advert. I confess my hackles go up at these obviously grown women being referred to as “girls”.

Many of the ads seem to stress that “genuine” Cadbury’s chocolate & cocoa is “Absolutely pure”. Presumably these ads date from a time when food contamination was common.

And finally one ad makes me smile. It is drawn in more comic style. You see the backs of six people looking into a shop window displaying Fry’s Chocolates. The slogan is “One touch of Nature makes the whole World kin.”  The people drawn represent various classes of society. So an old lady, dressed in shawl & raggedy skirt stands next to someone in Eton uniform, top hat & all. I’m suddenly reminded of Lord Snooty of Beano fame. I generally wasn’t allowed comics as a child, but we had friends who did regularly get them so often got a look in. For that matter it was one of the few good things about visiting the dentist’s. There was always a supply of comics in is waiting room. I can’t help smiling remembering the goings on of Lord Snooty.

Contrary by nature

There are times when I’m struck by how contrary I am. Whenever I’m forbidden to do anything I instantly want to do it.

Much of yesterday I spent doing a jigsaw depicting chocolate adverts. I instantly fancied having some chocolate. I resisted the urge to rush off to the shops to buy some. Tuesday is usually our day for food shopping but yesterday we didn’t go as the Fox is still ailing.

Today I’m off to the hospital for this scan. The instructions clearly state I’m to eat nothing or drink anything with fat in it (such as milky tea) for 5 hours before. I was up early to make sure I had my breakfast before those 5 hours began. From now on I expect my tum will rumble in the hope of filling & I will be desperately thirsty. At least there’s no ban on water. I have looked at some of the soft drinks we have in. All say they have traces of fat. Much as I suspect that is the companies being overly cautious in case some fat has got on their machinery & so into their drinks, I suppose that trace means I shouldn’t have any those drinks either. So it is water. The stupid part of it is that I wouldn’t normally eat or drink much from now until the afternoon. It’s just the knowing I can’t have them that makes them so desirable.

It is that same contrariness that makes me so eager to discover if my pancreas has now reduced sufficiently for me to be able to once more have a little alcohol, just a bit of wine with meals even if I have less than I did before the attack of pancreatitis I had last year. It’s not that I’ve ever drunk vast quantities of alcohol. Even the hospital acknowledges the pancreatitis is not the result of excessive alcohol intake but rather due to long term use of NSAIDs (Non-Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory Drugs) to control my pain levels.

It all goes along with the urge to walk on the grass when I see the “Keep off the grass” sign. The sign almost acts as an invitation to walk on the grass, something I would never have thought of doing if it hadn’t been for the sign.

Memories come flooding back

I’m somewhat bemused to see this year’s “Autumn Watch” on BBC2 starting this evening, is going to based at RSPB Leighton Moss. This place has particular associations for us.

Our first marital home was in a cottage on the edge of the bird sanctuary. It certainly was a great place for birds. I remember one day opening the front door to find a heron there. You don’t realise how big they are, or how villainous their bill is, until you’re that close. We gently closed the door. That bill would have gone straight through the hardboard door, not to mention a leg, if it had been alarmed.

One day we found a swift on the ground in our garden. We hastily took it round to the bird sanctuary & were advised to put it somewhere high up. In the garden we had what was originally the chimney of a pumping station. We put the swift high up in the ivy growing on the chimney & kept an eye open for stray cats. After a while the bird managed to recover from its shock & fly off.

We had other delights such as frogs that hopped in through the back door. A, I suspect feral, cat visited us many evenings for milk, a bit of something to eat and a bit of a warm up before our coal fire.

While we were living there we often heard the bitterns booming across the valley.

Early one morning the Fox went for a walk up nearby Warton Crag to see an owl sat on a fence post, head twisting almost totally around.

We did once go along to one of the RSPB hides. I still remember watching a spoonbill at the water’s edge.

The strange thing is that pheasant shooting happened on a regular basis in the bird reserve in those days. At the weekend the men, with their guns, would pass our window, on their way to their shooting stations. Hopefully these days that no longer continues. To me it always seemed at odds with the idea of a bird reserve to allow game bird shooting in the same place. On the one hand you encourage the birds to regard this place as a place of safety, and then you go & shoot some. Very odd.

It may have been nearly 40 years ago, but the memories come flooding back

Off & away??

We finally decide on a hotel. So Thursday evening I ring up to book. I always phone to make sure access is as easy as they say. Experience has taught me that some places have wheelchair symbols because you can get to the bar or the restaurant, but you may not be able to get to a bedroom. My first question concerns access. Yes they do have a room. It is on the first floor. They have no lifts but they do have a stairlift. The room is fully equipped with grab rails. The best price they can offer is £165 for Dinner Bed & Breakfast one night & Bed & Breakfast the other night.

I decide this required some thinking about. A stairlift means having to transfer from wheelchair to stairlift seat, & at the other end from stairlift seat to wheelchair, an exhausting business, as well as requiring someone to carry the wheelchair up &  down the stairs. To me, that denies me much independence & makes me feel a bit of a nuisance. I know, in all probability I would be negotiating the stairs with the Fox but what if I did want to be on my own, want to get something I’d forgotten in the bedroom for example?

By Friday, our friends at the golf club are surprised to see us. We’d mentioned earlier in the week we were hoping to get away for the weekend, so when we are late arriving they’d assumed we had indeed gone away. I explain the dilemma. They all assure me not to be so silly & go ahead & book. The Fox is quite happy to get the wheelchair up & down the stairs, & it does look a very nice hotel & comes personally recommended.

So I come home resolved to ring up & book. After all we are only going away for a couple of days. I can manage with a little less independence for a couple of days. I’m just about to ring when the Fox says “Don’t. You’ve clearly got reservations.” I leave it until we have the chance to talk over the matter together.

So, come Saturday, I ring up the hotel again. I’m ready to book. It is a different person on the phone. She once more informs me about the chairlift. OK, I say. She then adds the chairlift only takes me to the first floor landing. I will then have to negotiate 3 steps to get to the bedrooms. That’s the killer. Steps are a no-no for me. Why couldn’t the first receptionist have told me that on Thursday & saved me all that timed dithering?

I try our second choice hotel. Yes they have two ground floor rooms. One fully accessible with sliding bathroom door enabling you to take the wheelchair into a wet room, one with a more normal opening door & a shower over the bath. I said either would do. For a couple of nights I can manage without a shower, especially since I will probably have one the morning before we leave home. She decides the one with the wetroom was the better bet for me, even though I tell her I will probably walk within the bedroom.

So now we have a room booked. It’s a long time since we last visited Penrith. I was still walking then, so it must be over 20 years ago. We’re quite looking forward to going again. We wonder if the excellent bookshop there is still in business. We’ll see.

But then yesterday, the Fox started shivering, followed by breaking out into a sweat. He aches throughout. What now? He had his flu jab weeks ago, so he surely can’t have that. By the evening he’d decided it’s just a bad cold. It will be the first time he’s had one since he had his stroke. The stroke has left him with a weakness on his left side. Clearly, if he’s off colour, that is where it will show up first.

 Now we wait to see what happens. Will we get to Penrith? For that matter how am I going to get to the hospital this week if the Fox is going to be ill?

We’re both keen for me to not delay this appointment. I’m going to have another scan to find out if my pancreas has now shrunk back to more normal dimensions. If it has, I can start to think of having a little alcohol again. It would be nice to have a glass of wine with dinner once more.

Contrasts

I’m back wading through treacle. So far I’ve had to load Word up twice just to update my freezer list. Now I’m on the net I can only hope things get easier. Otherwise abandonment is the order of the day.

I was hoping to have another look at some hotels. We’re hoping to get away for a few days – a little morale boost before winter really sets in. We’re not thinking of going far, just up to the Penrith/Ullswater area.

The new home help turned out to be a wonder. I feel I need sunglasses on when I venture into the bathroom. Everything gleams & sparkles so much. She’s hospital trained & certainly knows about the importance of hygiene & is not afraid of using a bit of elbow grease if necessary. Unfortunately I’m not sure if she is going to be the regular one. Certainly someone different will be coming next week as this one is holidaying then.

I’m also struck by the difference of attitude. With the previous company you paid for an hour but only got 50 minutes work as the rest of the time was for travelling between homes. This woman was prepared to stay for an extra half an hour at no extra cost. She certainly expected to stay for the full hour.

Then the question of payment is different. The last company took payment at the end of each session. This company says, just pay when you’re ready, or if you’re passing the office. So far we can’t fault their caring attitude. We just hope they are sufficiently on the ball as far as money management & organisation to keep going. I hope they don’t have too many clients who take advantage of their laxness.

The office is more or less opposite the barber the Fox usually frequents & on the same short street the fish shop is on, so we will be passing fairly often. I wonder if the invite to drop in for a cup of tea & a chat mentioned on the paper they gave us when we agreed to take them on will also come into effect when you pop in to pay. It certainly won’t be taking us out of the way. I am, though, filling in & dating the vouchers each session to make sure I don’t forget to pay for a week. I can see our difficulty being to get them to take payment rather than being bludgeoned into paying for work never received!

Food escape from tensions

It’s another wading-through-treacle day. I seem to have had to take an inordinate time “quickly” checking up on e-mails, looking up dates for an exhibition we’re hoping to see & getting here, on my blog site. It never ceases to amaze me just how long it can take just booting up some days.

Yesterday I had a go on our recently returned laptop. There I found I couldn’t even work out how to gain access to the website to write my blog. The Fox is going to look into the matter. I’m beginning to think the computer shop has so cleaned up the computer that I no longer know how to use it! My frustration is ever increasing.

Tomorrow the new home help should be coming. I’m a little nervous, especially since we’ve not had a phone call to confirm that they have managed to arrange for someone to come at our preferred time. We’ll see what happens. Our impression is that the people running the company are very caring, just a little inadequate at organisation, so hopefully the phone call, or rather lack of it, is a minor admin oversight. We’ll soon find out.

The Fox is cooking tomorrow. He’s trying an Elizabeth David recipe, with a slight tweak in that he’s using pork rather than veal, which is impossible to find around here. It will be cooked en papilotte with some ham & mushrooms – should be good. All I’ll need to do in the morning is prepare some spuds to accompany the pork.

The Fox cooked yesterday too. That was an old favourite, a meal we used to have very frequently, mainly because it was so cheap & money was very tight those days. He made a Carbonara. This version uses just a couple of ounces of bacon & mushrooms, along with eggs & a little cheese, and, of course, some pasta. I used to always make my own pasta, but these days I don’t seem to get around to making tagliatelle so often. The Fox used some supermarket fresh pasta that was taking up space in the freezer – not a patch on my fresh pasta! We did end up thinking that spaghetti might have been a better, lighter, alternative. Still it’s one less thing in the freezer.

So, by way of change, today I’ve just made up some chillied beef burgers, ready to grill this evening. It’s time we had a bit of spice. We need something to warm us on these damp chilly nights.

Spot of nostalgia

I feel I’ve turned the corner. Quite why is as much a mystery as why I started to sink. The day is every bit as grey. Saturday was only brightened by the flashes of lightning as the thunder rumbled overhead. It’s still wet now. I’m still stuck in “Wolf Hall” though the end is in sight. I’ve had a change of jigsaw but I can’t believe that’s made much difference. I’ve not slept particularly well. Indeed I have to resort to more painkillers than usual over the weekend.

Whatever the reason I’m grateful. I’m learning to accept that these grey/black days will pass & to hold on to the knowledge of the love of the Fox & of good friends with their cyberhugs.

The jigsaw I’ve just completed is entitled “1950s Advertising Jigsaw. It brought back memories. I remember well “Spangles” but I can’t remember peppermint ones. Equally I was reminded of the golden cellophane that used to wrap “Lucozade”. And in my family it was regarded as a drink to be given to you medicinally to help you recover from illness. I also remember that mystery tin “Andrews liver salt” that stayed high up on the shelf for my gran’s exclusive use. (My mother’s mother lived with us in the mid-50s.)

The world portrayed in the ads is idealised, rather americanised, designed to confirm the words of the then Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan - “most of our people have never had it so good.” Everything looks so bright & fresh. However, England at that time was still just coming out of rationing, with many things in short supply. My memory is of a world all painted in cream & brown – I sometimes think they must have been the only colours available then. The Fox has similar memories. The “Scott’s Oats” ad shows schoolchildren merrily playing. I remember the smogs in winter – the real pea-soupers in which you were hard pushed to see your hand in front of your face.

In one ad for tea a young girl is on a bicycle, a sit-up-and-beg design, of course. It seems strange to see the old fashioned handlebars these days.

I am surprised by the ad for “Marmite”. In this ad, marmite is sown as a drink for all ages. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone to drink marmite. I’ve had, & hated, marmite spread on toast or as a flavouring in something, but never as a drink.

The fashions too are quite striking. A lady sits sipping her Ovaltine. Her dress has a very fitted bodice & a very full skirt, very 50s. As for the glasses worn by the lady in the Daz ad, they are so sharp & pointed I feel they belong to someone out of a Hitchcock movie. Little boys wear serge shorts to school. (My brother was allowed special permission to wear long trousers to school due to the need for him to keep warm due to his congenital heart problem. He hated it as it meant he stood out from the others & so got picked on.)  Men wore braces. Their trousers always came with buttons at the waistline to attach the braces to. The gender stereotypes are all there. The nice little woman at home in her pinny making tea for the hard working husband, the male doctor, the male delivery man & chef, not to be mistaken from the lesser female home cook.

The Fox pointed out that all the images were still drawn. Colour photography was still rare & very expensive in those days, too expensive for mere advertising. A lot of graphic artists must have lost jobs as photography later took over.

I also can’t help feeling nostalgic for some of the prices – Munchmallows 2½d, Scott’s Oats 1/9½d, Spangles 3d & only one point (presumably on the ration book). Those were pre-decimalisation days. Weights were still imperial so the box of Scott’s Oats is a 2lb size. Although I long ago adjusted to the change of currency I am struck by how little you seem to get for it today. As for weights, I still prefer imperial ones. Grams & kilos have little meaning for me. And we still live in a world where both forms are used with the result there is little inclination to move over to the new, for Britain, ones.

No, much as the jigsaw encourages a certain nostalgia, I have no desire to go back to then. The 50s were the time of my childhood. I recognise just how idealistic the world portrayed in these ads is. England was very much coming out of the Second World War. As children we had much more freedom than children today, as we were let loose to explore the rubble of buildings bombed years before but still not cleared up. Materially things were nowhere near as good. The range of foods available was much smaller. We were posh enough to have an inside loo & a plumbed in bath; most people still had to venture out in the middle of the night to go to the loo, and a bath was in a tin bath in front of the coal fire, filled with buckets of hot water. Oh, and the cold.  Houses had no central heating & only single glazing. Bedrooms decorated by Jack Frost in the night. Hot water bottles the only thing to help you get warm as you got into icy beds, having changed in unheated bedrooms. Mind you, with the way things are going in austerity Britain I’m not sure if we’re not going back to those days as people can’t afford to feed themselves, let alone warm their homes. Oh dear.

Maybe that’s what’s been getting me down – the news of late. Last week we heard of people returning food to food banks as they couldn’t afford to pay for the fuel to cook it. And then, as the week progressed, the utility providers announced swinging increases in prices for gas & electricity, far higher than inflation. And our government tells us things are getting better! I can’t help thinking that only applies for the super-rich & those who live in the south of the country. It certainly doesn’t apply to the majority of people in this country. Fortunately we don’t need to worry too much about ourselves, but my heart goes out to those who do need to. We spent far too many years in that situation to not understand the problems & distress it can cause.