The menfolk are jamming out in the parlor, the Irish Setter is setting, the rain is falling outside. Isn’t it time for coffee?
Category: Nostalgia
Fresh Kill
Pre-Pandora Record Store
Breed Your Own Foghorn Leghorn
These are the last of the salvaged Progressive Farmer ads, and two of the only color ones in the otherwise dull beige magazine. It sure enough does catch the eye. The girl with the twinkle in her eye, the baby chicks, Mom’s head-to-toe modern ensemble–not worn by any farmer’s wife, I can assure you. Here’s the whole thing:
As I don’t often ever come across the word “leghorn” in my daily life, I was reminded of Foghorn Leghorn, the Warner Bros chicken from back in the day.
Also in the magazine, in the same brilliant color, was another ad for raising chicks, with a view of the “brooder room.”
At first I thought indignantly, “Well, it wasn’t cage-free 75 years ago either!” but then I realized you have to provide clean, dry, comfortable quarters for birds throughout the year and not let them roam about to be stolen by wily foxes.
So there you have it, folks: the last of the farming ads of 1939. And remember–chickens were waaaaaay smaller (and healthier) then. See for yourself.
More Ads From The Now Dead 1939 Progressive Farmer
I was able to salvage a few ads from The Progressive Farmer before I chunked it yesterday. These were too cute to pass up.
Those are some nice curves, if I do say so myself. I can almost hear her saying, “Toodles!”
And check out his curves as he arches into fresh running water.
It IS important to have plenty of water in your barnyard and outbuildings.
It’s also important to have the “same refrigeration that a million city folks now enjoy,” according to this ad for a kerosene fridge. What the what? Have you ever heard of such a thing?
Peace Out
Oh, you guys, I just hate it when my old magazines get too brittle and crumbly to keep. Such is the case with my February 1939 The Progressive Farmer. So I post this ad from it before it hits the trashcan, and part of it will live forever.
Shine Sweet Freedom
If only I could take the jubilation and energy from this picture and inject it into my bloodstream (assuming a nurse could find a good vein), what a wonderful world this would be.
Is it me, or does this particular nurse have quite a bit of body hair?
Too Much Powdering Your Nose
I love this image. The little collars and cardigans, skirts and mod flips, the coiled phone cord, the more mature, white-nosed woman whose fingers cover the “ic” so that it reads just Panhellen. I like to think that’s her name. Panhellen. Brilliant!
Reese’s Hairpieces
If that isn’t the perkiest, button-nosiest, suspender-wearing little pre-Reese Witherspoon, I don’t know what is. Marie Anderson from Traeder House, your hair was fab-u-lous.
Ray On The Hi-Fi
Things That Don’t Help Insomnia, Part I
Rodeo Club
I Don't Get It 