I think I enquired about that here once before. I don't believe I managed to chase up a single other person who was taught that holding your bread in the left hand is "correct"[*] - although the mother swears that she didn't make it up.
In these days, of course, eating and mousing with different hands is terribly convenient :) Though I fail, because I do both with my left hand.
[*] It clearly is correct, or your side-plate would be on your right ;)
The plate being on your left also means that if you're right-handed you're only crowding yourself (reaching over your own meal) when you butter your roll, though, rather than waving a knife in the direction of your right-hand neighbour. I would have to move my side-plate away from me to be comfortable if it were on my right, taking up more space than if I reach across to my left.
Mm, that's what I thought was the reason. But it might well be post-hoc reationalization...
I forgot to ask, are the dates taken alongside the bread and cheese in one exciting mouthful, or afterwards? Dates were trmendously exotic in my childhood (we only had them at Christmas, and then strictly rationed to one a day), so the idea of having them as part of a mundane bread-and-cheese meal is intriguing.
As a family, we are all uncivilised enough to read at mealtimes, so meals often passed in companionable silence.Oh, that sounds brilliant. Ours were always horrendous stiff, bored, angry, scared, resentful affairs. One of other of the parents was usually in a bad mood (which of course was likely to trigger the other one). When it was Dad we were extra quiet due to his tendency to lash out at random (an elbow on the table sometimes resulted in said elbow being banged down hard *on* the table, and then I would be fuming and upset all at once - but quietly). Even if they were in good moods my sister and usually started off resentful at having been dragged away from something we wanted to do in order to sit up at the table. Meals involved being made to eat things you hated and stay there, bored to tears, till the parents were prepared to let you go. They believed firmly in 'family mealtimes', but made them as miserable an experience as possible. It was a long time before I was able to think of sitting down for dinner with a family as
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Not depressing as such, just sad, really. Sitting round a table should be a fun, companionable thing and I'm amazed that so many people seem to have had quite the opposite experience. I don't think I realised until relatively recently how lucky I was.
My mother's a great cook, our dining room was really the room we lived in (so heated, while the rarely-used front room stayed chilly) and while reading was acceptable we also enjoyed (and still do) talking to each other. I like eating, so rarely resent having to stop what I'm doing for it.
But having heard other people's anecdotes of "family mealtimes" I can see why this isn't always the case. I just end up feeling sorry for people and wanting to invite them round for dinner :)
Anyway, I tend to eat with fork in right hand and book in left.I can do that too - and often do these days. But when I was growing up I guess we had sandwichy meals more often than fork-only meals. Fork-only was reserved for things like curry or pasta, and we more commonly had
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I don't remember ever being allowed to read at the table (or, come to that, trying to), but family meal was usually pretty informal.
Bea and I have been known to play electronic games at the table after we've finished eating and before everyone else has. I think if either child wanted to bring a book to the table, that would be fine (although we might stop them if we had company, just not to offend the company).
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Poll required methinks!
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In these days, of course, eating and mousing with different hands is terribly convenient :) Though I fail, because I do both with my left hand.
[*] It clearly is correct, or your side-plate would be on your right ;)
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I forgot to ask, are the dates taken alongside the bread and cheese in one exciting mouthful, or afterwards? Dates were trmendously exotic in my childhood (we only had them at Christmas, and then strictly rationed to one a day), so the idea of having them as part of a mundane bread-and-cheese meal is intriguing.
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Not depressing as such, just sad, really. Sitting round a table should be a fun, companionable thing and I'm amazed that so many people seem to have had quite the opposite experience. I don't think I realised until relatively recently how lucky I was.
My mother's a great cook, our dining room was really the room we lived in (so heated, while the rarely-used front room stayed chilly) and while reading was acceptable we also enjoyed (and still do) talking to each other. I like eating, so rarely resent having to stop what I'm doing for it.
But having heard other people's anecdotes of "family mealtimes" I can see why this isn't always the case. I just end up feeling sorry for people and wanting to invite them round for dinner :)
Anyway, I tend to eat with fork in right hand and book in left.I can do that too - and often do these days. But when I was growing up I guess we had sandwichy meals more often than fork-only meals. Fork-only was reserved for things like curry or pasta, and we more commonly had ( ... )
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Form an orderly queue.....behind me!
W
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Bea and I have been known to play electronic games at the table after we've finished eating and before everyone else has. I think if either child wanted to bring a book to the table, that would be fine (although we might stop them if we had company, just not to offend the company).
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