The stockings are hung on the couch with care. ..

I love Christmas, the songs, the food, the drinks and of course the gifts. One of the reasons I love it is the traditions. My family has a few. The first is our stockings,  each hand knitted, my mom's,  father's and mine all by Great Grandma B, my mother's Grandma. My brother's was either made by Grandma G (Grandma B's daughter), or Great Grandma G. Every one has our names, birth year and a picture. Mine is the snowman and Christmas tree.

Family stocks. The old cloth one is my dad's from when he was a kid.

So we have the stockings laid out, next is the food. Dinner varies from Ham, roast beef, turkey, lamb, or what ever nice looking meat my mom decides to buy. Since we grow our own produce there is unusually potatoes, butternut squash and beans. Cookies if we remember, or have time is soft cookies and peppercorkers. The later cookies' recipe seems to get milder with each generation,  was one from my Great Grandma N. I am sure that when she brought it over on the ship it was in Swedish but the recipe was either translated or written down by my Grandmother K, her daughter. It still states in its opening "simmer molasses over open flame."

Of course we have drinks, egg nog in our home is of course a must but not as important as glug. Another recipe from my Swedish Grandmother, this concoction of cranberry juice, brandy and port wine will kick the cold from your chest. Not only is it a Christmas recipe in our house, it is also a cure all.

Then there is the tree. You know the tree from a Charlie Brown Christmas Special.  Yea that is our tree.  As a kid we would go to our wood lot, my brother, father and myself and find the perfect tree and cut it down. We'd get home and it was Charlie Brown all over again. The only year it didn't happen dad had cut the tops off some large trees at Grandpa's house. Despite the look we would decorate. Mom's homemade angel sitting on top. Tractors, boats, campers and cars hiding all over it, paper decorations made by my brother, my cousins and I. In our family we even have a superstition about the tree. We have three birds that decorate it bringing us luck for the next year.

So there is our family tradition. Yea it is simple, and I give hand made gifts but it is ours. Through history Christmas traditions have changed. Queen Victoria brought the now popular tree which used to only be a German thing, Santa now reaches around the world. Even songs have changed. In my own family things have changed. Secret Santa's became swaps, what used to be 10 of us Ks gathered around the table is now only 4. So whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kuanza, or just being together, Happy Holiday Season from my family to yours.

Have your own tradition you would like to share, please share in the comments. 

Dream cloth

So last night I had a nightmare.  It didn't involve the typical bad dream ingredients, liking running or falling, but was horrible none the less. I dreamed I was sitting in my garden at work, wearing a woolen petticoats, linen waist coat and my best hat. I was talking to visitors when a moth landed on the petticoat. Now for any one who knows fibers it is a well known fact moths and wool do not mix. I swatted the moth a way, it wouldn't leave in fact another one joined it. Eventually I started hitting them, they wouldn't die. I started rubbing my hand on them and although the wings were gone, the legs and most of the body squished they kept enjoying the petticoat.  So I stood up, waved it about and the petticoat disintegrated between my hands. Luckily in my dream I was wearing two but it was at that moment I woke up.

Never mind the fact the petticoat was a forest green with a brown band on the bottom and I have never seen it or worn it before in my life, I have never seen meaner moths. Today cloth is relatively inexpensive, though wool does tend to be on the more expensive side, so when the evil moths do eat a bit of wool we are less upset. Yet wool was the main source of cloth in the Northern European countries, (Linen next) and it is a rather laborious material to prep. From tending the sheep, shearing, than cleaning, next carding or combing, then to spin it, and finally weave or knit it.

Knowing all that it is hard to imagine how upset they might have been to find said moths in the wool.

Author's note: I told this dream to a baking friend of mine. Turns out she is haunted moths too but they are always eating her flour, not wool. Those pesky moths haunting our dreams.

Looping to Lucets

So in D.I.Y blog number 3 I am going to show you how to make lucet.

1 Take your lucet in your dominate hand and thread your string into the hole so that the end is on the front. You will be using this to keep your tension.

2. Wrap the thread around the front of the left prong.

3. Wrap thread around back prong to the front.

4. Bring around to left prong wrapping to the back.

5. There is now two strings on the left prong. Take the bottom one and pull it over the top string and prong. Pull the main string to tighten.

6. Wrap thread around right prong and take bottom thread and again pull over top thread and prong. Pull tight but leave enough slack to move the thread.

7. At this point I like to start turning my lucet so that I am working off the right prong. Continue to wrap thread around prong and moving the bottom thread.

8. To finish clip thread. Continue wrapping around as you do pull the thread through the loop closing the loops.

9. Enjoy your new lucet cording.

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!

To market, to market to buy a fat pig...

Author's note: I know this doesn't seem like a housewife topic but trust me on this.

We have all been to one in our lives. Fayres or in the modern day fairs have brought excitement to communities around the world.  They can bring new and exciting news and things. Today they vary from county and state fairs, car, sewing, and animal expos. They are fun, entertaining and exciting. Sure there are rides and food but for centuries fairs or market days were more about the new items.

Mother Goose

Most fairs last a few days, while others last months or more. In small rural areas a fair could be a relief. Even a market coming through once a week was something to look forward to. For everyday or once a week market they were like farmers markets today. You might find some jewelry or clothing but most likely you will find fresh vegetables, herbs, meat and local spices. Of that you buy only enough to get you to the next market day with out it spoiling.

Vicenzo Campi, The Fruit seller 1580; Joachim Beucklear, The Country Market,1566

Once a year for a few days to a couple of weeks you might have a larger fair. Locals and travelers would gather to sell there wears and prove they were the  best. You could find food of course but there was cloth, animals, spices, and other treasures from far off lands. There would be dancing, singing, and other entertainment. In some images you find gambling, strangely dressed people and stages with all sorts of acts. 

Peasant Dance and Children's Games by Pieyet Bruegel 1560s;  Aertsen 1500s

Over the years fairs have changed but the purpose remains the same.  Excitement,  new and unusual things and of course entertainment. World fairs, State fairs, County Fairs and farmers markets bring out the best in what our world has to offer. They have been launching points for automobiles, televisions, new comics, and so much more. They display local talent from weavers, to gardeners, bakers and the list continues. We still look forward to them. From going on rides to seeing vendors we haven't seen in a while. Getting homemade relish and jams or wooden spoons you can't find anywhere else.  We love seeing the sewing and knitted items on display and maybe buy some. The sight, sound and smells entice our senses as we bite into funnel cake or Carmel Apple or maybe something we have never tried before. Even colorful posters give us something to look forward to.

So this weekend as I head off to the New England Fiber Festival I look back to the history of fairs and festivals,  and look forward to new gadgets, techniques,  and the excitement...

Home again, home again, doing a jig.....

Painful Pleats

So this summer I was asked to make a 1770s gown for a 12 year old girl. I said yes forgetting that it was the age of volume.  To get the volume needed in petticoats (skirts) of the time most designs required pleats, the bane of any womens' existence.  Figuring out the folds and getting even folds, never mind creating the perfect box pleats or knife pleats, takes forever. For this garment I spent 2 days, in total 24 hours, minus food and bathroom breaks trying not to cry over the dreadful pleats. My roommate,  who does cosplay and was making a extreamly complicated jacket, heard me curse about every 2 hours as I again found myself taking out the pleats and starting over. Finding the right combination of pleats to fit the waist band was seeming impossible.

I love how pleats lay but for labor you get the same effect with gathers and less hair pulling and crying, at least with the trick I showed you last week.  However the pattern called for pleats. Luckily a few weeks prior to getting this job, I visited my mother. I was digging through her sewing cabinet looking for my next blog post when I came across something I haven't found anywhere, a pleating tool. Remembering a skirt I wanted to make (still haven't) I borrowed it. I intend to return it as soon as I find one of my own.

This tool makes pleating a snap. What I can't figure out is why they stopped making them. Made by the Oakville Company of Oakville, Connecticut starting in 1961, it made even pleats 1/2 inch to 1 1/2 inches. Ajustable and well marked the metal tool works really well. All you do is insert around the fabric you wish to pleat and twist. Once you pin the pleat in place you remove the tool and start over.

I love gadgets that make my life easier but why did they stop making them? Got an answer would love to hear it.