Let's get dirty....

I am proud to announce a little known fact,  History is a dirty, unrecognizable mess of unrelenting psychotic, haphazered moments. Sounds like a lie, I know, but most historic facts people think are fact, are in truth myths we have continue to tell our children because they are cemented so much into our culture that the actual truth would be more shocking and seem like a lie. Most derive from before history was a profession.  When it was just history lovers reading one document and taking it as absolute truth. Then there was the grab onto one line and use it to address an issue that needs thousands of lines to explain. My favorite is thinking it is one way but in reality it is a whole different reason and it all stems from different centuries definitions of a word like doll, tight, tick, spit, gay, and so many others.

Bug Hunting 18th century

But I am not here to talk about misinformed, misinterpreted,  or misrepresented history but actually the dirty history. I realized in high school it was dirty. At the time I got really in to ceramics.  I started painting a representation of the birth of Jesus. I started with him, and then started painting Mary. I "finished" her but something was bugging me, she has walked and rode on a donkey for miles, is sleeping in a barn and yet she doesn't have a speck of dirt on her. Being the true to life person I was/am, I painted dirt on the hem of her robe. When my mom heard my answer why she laughed and said "Duh!"

I am sorry if I just destroyed your romantic view of Jesus' birth  but in my defense I have a point. We romanticise history to a ridiculous degree. Wars are seen as glorious rightful victories that we lose sight of the death, destruction, and just total loss they leave behind. We seen the settlers of 1620s new Plimoth as lost pilgrims and we loose sight of how hard there lives were.  We see Kings and Queens of lands and forget how their servants were treated.

Flour child-Morgan Weistling

The thing is lots of people get offended when we interpret people as dirty. I couldn't help but laugh at the number of complaints for museums about reenactors being "too dirty". We go to work where we cook, clean, garden, work with ash covered hearths, gather firewood, and so much more. I count it as a clean day if none of that manages to make it down between my skin and clothes. It is a clean day if I remove my socks and a puff of dust doesn't hit my face or dust stain shows where my shoe sits.  Then I have my baking job. I find flour in my shoes, on my pants, on my shirt, and on one occasion I found a good size piece of dough in my hair. We also work with a wood fired oven. I spent at least two hours with flour on one cheek and ash on the other. During those two hours a spoke to  about 100 guests and some v.i.p.s with the museums programs relation manager. No one said a word.

Meat Market -Joachim Beuckelear 1535-1575 Naples Capodimater Museum

I count it a good day if I walk away without dirt on my face or in my hair. History isn't clean. Dirt used to grow plants has cow dung and chicken dung mixed in. There are ribs on a spit with logs of wood falling into the sauce pan. Splinters of firewood stuck to your clothes, hands covered in bread dough, dust on the table, and leaves on the floor. Our fore mothers and fathers weren't afraid to get dirty or be dirty. They also weren't much about avoiding the dirty life. Those that did were rich or dead.

Maid asleep... let us too

When I get home...

So for this weeks blog I am going to talk about our veterans who keep our homes safe. I have decided to share with you the last letter a soldier wrote to his mom and dad on May 22 1946.

May 20, 1946

Dear Mom and Dad,

How are you?  You haven't heard from me in quite awhile now have you?

I am on my way home believe it or not.  I left Japan April 15th and got here yesterday so you can see it is slow going. I am on a L.S.T. which is used for beach landings and are very slow. We only go about eight miles an hour.

I know tomorrow is your birthday momma. I was hoping when I left Japan I would make it. But on this tub there is no hope. I should be home a civilian in six to eight weeks. 

We left Japan and went by Okinawa then to Guam and stayed there for a week. We left there and went to en Eniwetok which is in the marshalls and now Pearl Harbor. 

Don't bother to write to me because it will never get to me.

I have met a kid from New Castle, ME. He knows where Wescasset is where Sid and I went and knows the people also. His Aunt lives in Spencer so after he is discharged I will be seeing him. 

I have been wondering how everything is at home because it has been six weeks since I have heard from you. 

It is 10 o'clock at night now so I am just about asleep.

I intend to call you when I get to the West Coast. I will have to reverse the charges because I am broke. We didn't draw any pay when we left. 

It has really changed since the last time I was in Pearl. Before it was really busy but it is dead now. 

What am I going to (do) when I get home? That is the question.  Everybody else on here is the same way. I guess that is the $64 questions. 

I guess I better sign off now. Happy Birthday Mom. I will be home for yours Pop. I hope you are all right. 

Love Richard. 

Mundane but where every soldier's mind is when he is off defending his country. So thank you to the men, women and dogs of the past, present and future defending our nation on its shores and abroad and they all come home as safe as the soldier pictured above.

A Tisket, a Tasket, I've got something in my basket

In an effort to organize my life I have a number of baskets. Big, small; old, new; wood, cloth. Over the years I have been using them to organize my projects and supplies. Sewing baskets are seen in paintings, and drawing through time, mentioned in wills, probates and other data regarding the home life. Probably one of the most useful and underrated tools in any sewing room. Growing up my mom's was an old wooden cigar holder, a chocolate box and a number of cookie tins. Now I am not even going into sewing chests and cabinets.

Dutch sketch; note sewing basket on the floor.

Probably since sewing housewives have looked to storing their gadgets some where. Now I can't even begin to guess or research where the idea originated both geographic location or time. If there is anything my profession as a historian it is that they never write about what you want them to write about.  So when trying to pin down information on the history of sewing baskets it is about as easy has pin pointing the first ever cooked food. It happened, was created out of necessity, the world moved on and now we cannot live without it.

Visit with Grandma; note the shape of the sewing basket has changed,  and has a lid.

My first personal sewing basket made of cloth, in the shape of a cottage,  filled with all sorts of useful tools, and had a dragon, a unicorn and fairies on it. A gift from a family friend I still count it as my favorite but I out grew it. Now I have one I keep by my bed for doing repairs when I can't sleep.  I have a wooden one filled with my Historical reenacting supplies and a large one I got on clearance at Joanns for all my notions. Still not enough places to store all my gadgets and supplies but getting more organized.

My useful sewing baskets

So I don't know where or when the first sewing baskets came into being but I can tell you the following. They are seen in paintings dating to the 15th century. They appear in information regarding sewing around the world. The can be made out of anything, wood, cloth, sticks and they are extremely useful and mundane. Happy sewing!