My Life in the Little Brown House, part 10: Bathroom and Dining Room

I remember one incident relative to the bathroom that provides some interesting sidelights on the characteristics of my parents. It occurred when Clarice was of an age when she was starting to menstruate and she was attending to her needs in the bathroom, having locked the door. My father needed, or wanted to use the bathroom — perhaps he had an urgent need to do so. Anyway on finding the door locked, and Clarice within preventing his access, he became quite angry and made some threatening remarks. My mother, perhaps aware, or sending the situation, immediately remonstrated, indeed informed my father that he wasn’t to carry out any of his threats. He promptly subsided. What eventually developed in the situation I do not recall. It does however illustrate the characteristic of my father, generally a mild-mannered person, to occasionally “fly off the handle.” I have observed this tendency in myself. The incident also illustrates the relationship between my parents in that my father’s basic regard and appreciation for my mother’s opinion and action would temper him even in one of his rare obstreperous moments.

Generally my parents were pretty much in accord in their thinking and actions. One of the few times when there was substantial disagreement between them was on the subject of an endowment-type life insurance policy. Fred Magnusson (who worked at the second bank in Gowrie — the Savings Bank — in a position similar to that of my father at the First National Bank and who moonlighted as an insurance agent) had convinced my father that he should purchase this $2000 endowment policy. My mother was opposed stating somewhat irrationally that what she wanted was my father, not the proceeds from some life insurance. In the end my father prevailed, but the company failed during the Depression and only part of the money invested was recovered.

Off of the kitchen to the east was the dining room. In the center of the room was, normally, a round oak table. The table could be expanded into a long table by the addition of boards at its center. Accompanying the table were six (eight?) oak chairs; the seats were leather-covered, or at least a leather-like material. When the table was in the round shape, four chairs would be arranged around it with the remainder along the wall at various places. On the west wall stood a sort of buffet, with cupboards for storing my mother’s good dishes and a large drawer at the bottom for tablecloths, napkins, etc. There were also some smaller drawers above the cabinets for storage of her silverware. The upper surface of the buffet was about chest high and along the back was a low mirror that ran the length of the buffet. Sitting on the upper surface, on some doilies, were two cut-glass dishes (maybe they were wedding presents) and in the center between the dishes was a large glass pitcher (and glasses?). I’m not at all sure about the latter, but there was something kept there.

In the southeast corner of the room was a china closet, with a glass door. It was tall rather than wide, perhaps five to six feet tall with several shelves in it. The door could be locked (as could the buffet cupboards and drawers) but I don’t remember the locks ever being used. The china closet contained various of my mother’s fancier dishes, including a cream and sugar set. The latter I distinctly recall as I remember on occasions as a young child sneaking a spoonful of sugar from it. There was a little ornamental spoon with the set for dispensing the sugar. I never gave any thought to leaving the spoon unwashed after I had had it in my mouth. On top of the china cabinet stood a clock, the striking kind, but which to my recollection wasn’t used, maybe it wouldn’t run.

In the northeast corner of the dining room was the cold air register that circulated air to the convection furnace in the house; it was flush with the floor. The floors in the dining room and living rooms, and I think the front bedroom were, I believe, maple, and stained dark. The woodwork was oak in the dining room and parlor.

One incident concerning the dining room that I don’t recall but I heard about secondhand was the time I was discovered (by my mother?) as a young child running around on top of the table. A memory I do have of the dining room was the time when Clarice had something wrong with one of her knees (some broken or damaged cartilage) and she had to be still in bed for some time. A bed or couch was set up in the dining room near the window side and Clarice spent the time for her knee to mend there. She must have been about 10 years old when this occurred — I think it was after Dr. Borgen took over old Dr. Erickson’s practice. Dr. Erickson was pretty much in his dotage in his last years of practice and I doubt he’d have had the insight to detect what was wrong with Clarice’s knee.

I can recall the dining room being the scene of a family meal, with grandmother’s along for the occasion but it’s not related to any particular event. Somehow or other I tie this in with a couple of food items that I didn’t like, and didn’t eat, as a child. One was chicken (a favorite, particularly for the rest of the family, when my mother would fry a young rooster) and another was the scalloped ham and potato dish that she made. I didn’t like the ham. I have the vague feeling that I was a rather “picky” eater as a child, but this is one of the childhood characteristics that I’ve outgrown. I like chicken now and scalloped ham and potatoes is one of my favorite dishes.