Farb-free Friday

Here's a word you need to learn right now: farb.

Wikipedia definition:
Farb (and the derivative adjective farby) is a derogatory term used in the hobby of historical reenacting in reference to participants who are perceived to exhibit indifference to historical authenticity. It can also refer to the inauthentic materials used by those reenactors.  Some think that the origin of the word is a truncated version of "Far be it from authentic."  An alternative definition is "Fast And Researchless Buying."

I was going to tell you all about how farb-free we were today...only we weren't.  As you can see, I'm still on the computer.  Huge farb.  Made a call or two on my cellphone, also farby.  I drove in my farby car to the farbiest possible location: a copy store - bright lights, (to which my 19th century eyes are now unaccustomed, since I'm even typing this by candlelight), and thousands of square feet of electronics, plastic, and bright colors.  Total farb-fest.  It couldn't be helped; I had to make copies for my English class.

So now I'm hoping for a farb-free weekend.  Well, apart from driving 6 hours in my car to get to a re-enactment.  And going to a party Saturday night.  And church, though that's pretty period-correct.  But I'm pretty sure the play I'll be attending Sunday afternoon, High School Musical, will be pretty farby.  It's virtually impossible to carve a little 19th century corner out of this 21st century world!

But I'm trying.

Today was Ironing Day.  Until today, I never got why they needed a whole day just for ironing.  The answer is because it takes A Whole Day.  And it's all about fire and water again (see previous post.)  The iron has to be really hot, because everything is cotton and really wrinkly and it won't work without a very hot iron.  Then you have to sprinkle water on the clothes.  Then you iron (with a cloth over the clothes if your antique iron is ancient and rusty like mine.)  Then you wait for the iron to heat up again. Then you sprinkle the next little bit of clothes and iron again.  Then you wait for the iron to heat up again.  When you realize after staring at it for half an hour that the iron isn't getting hot, you build the fire again.  Then you wait for the iron to get hot.  Then you sprinkle...you get the idea.

You won't believe it when I tell you that all I ironed today was a chemise and 2 pairs of drawers.  (Chemise = Victorian tank top, drawers = underwear.)  I'll bet you've never ironed your underwear before!  (I have actually.  Apparently in Africa they have this weird bug that gets into light-colored underclothes and I wasn't taking any chances while traveling in Cameroon, so I ironed...never mind.)  You're probably getting sick of hearing about underwear, but at least I haven't mentioned The Corset in this post, and I won't, because we've called a truce for the moment.  But I can't help talking about underwear.  It looms large in our daily lives at present.  Get it?  Looms large?  I'm just punchy enough now that that cracks me up.

Back to farb.  Some of you have asked what we're "allowed" on this project.  Well, limited (hopefully) use of car, cellphone and computer, obviously, though they really should be more limited.  We're also using this:

I have to keep the freezer because it's full of our summer garden produce, and I was going to shut off the fridge, put block ice in it and use it as an icebox, but it was just too much trouble.  However, Karl turned off the light because everyone was using it when it got dark.

Our leopard gecko Lizzy still has to have her heat lamp.

We are also keeping this, since we don't need long-term plumbing problems, (sorry - can't get this to turn), as well as certain unmentionables without which life would be unmentionable.

But most of our farb is locked away.  The kitchen is divided.  We can't use these cupboards:

This one brings up a great mystery: What did people do before Tupperware?  I've pressed into service for leftovers every pot, jar, plate, and bowl I own!  And we're eating leftovers for lunch every day.

One benefit to this project is that the kids are helping out a lot.  Brennan washed dishes.  (Doesn't he look cute in his Civil War shirt?)

Then because it was already wet, he washed the floor.

And I made fried chicken.  Minnie Jackson's Fried Chicken.  Did you see "The Help?"  If not, you really should.  I fried my chicken in Crisco, just like in the movie.  

Ew.  It felt absolutely sinful.  We just don't eat like that nowadays.  I cook vegetarian half of the week, so my more carnivorous spouse and offspring  are loving it!  Fried chicken is fun to cook, actually.

Well, I'm off to bed.  My carriage leaves at half-after-dark tomorrow morning, and I expect Claire and I will encounter armed Yankees several times tomorrow.  She might even die.  I'm preparing to weep/giggle into my handkerchief.

I'm going to try not to post any more until Monday.  If you see another post before then, please call me and tell me to get off the computer.

Autumn