So I have some cream sitting in my fridge, and I don't dare disturb it. You see, it's not cream that came nicely prepackaged in a little cardboard carton from a diary company 3 states away. It's cream that I skimmed myself from 3 half gallon glass jars of milk from an organic dairy farm near my home. Cool, huh? But here's the problem: the cultural memory of how to properly collect the cream from milk has been lost somewhere in the last century and I'm stuck! When I initially skimmed the cream, I knew I got a bit of the milk mixed in. (I was just winging it after all and didn't know how to avoid that.) So I put a lid on the glass bowl of freshly skimmed cream and set it in the fridge to let the milk settle out again. This it has done nicely -- there is about a half inch of milk settled below the 3 inches or so of cream.
Now what? How do I get all the cream off without disturbing that half inch of milk? Did women used to use this 2 step method? Did they have special equipment? Was there a "trick"? I will probably find some instructions online, but how much nicer and more personal it would be to have someone show me!
This experience got me thinking of all of the other kinds of cultural memories that are casualties of the rapid progress of the last century. The way we live and relate to one another is so different now than it was 100 years ago. We can barely claim to have a common cultural experience with our own recent ancestors.
There are lots of things we have gained and many reasons *not* to want to go back, of course. My marriage would have been illegal 100 years ago, and my children outcasts. I make my own bread, but I knead it with the dough blade in my food processor -- a time saver that makes all the difference. As a woman, I have choices and options about work and family that I cherish and that I want to maintain for my daughter.
Nevertheless, I feel a certain sadness for what we have lost. I sometimes envy those who live as their ancestors have lived for generations. It's hard to put my finger on
why without sounding hopelessly nostalgic or naive about the past. It's not that I want to live just like my great-great-grandmothers did. It's more of a sense of spiritual loss that comes from losing touch with what was steadfast about life and what was known without knowing. The details are much less important.
Still, I
would like to know how to skim cream properly...
This is what happens to a Slinky when two children want it and both refuse to let go. Of course it was ruined for good and had to be thrown away. I tried to make it a teachable moment for my children. Without compromise, we often end up in a situation where both parties are unhappy. Had one child agreed to have a turn after the other, the slinky would still be intact. But no -- the principles of Who Had It First vs. Who Owns It vs. Who Had Been *Planning* to Play With It First vs. Who Had the Better Idea for What to Do With It seemed too important when the slinky still had value.
