Archive for November, 2008

Remick Museum Victorian Christmas, December 7, 2008

Thursday, November 20th, 2008

REMICK MUSEUM HOLDS ANNUAL VICTORIAN CHRISTMAS, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2008, 1-4PM.

Remick Country Doctor Museum & Farm will hold its annual special event, Victorian Christmas, on Sunday, December 7, 2008, from 1-4pm. This year, our museum interpreters will prepare a sampling of traditional cakes, including Spice Cake, Honey Cake, Christmas Pound Cake, Pound Cake with Cherry Sauce, Brown Sugar Pound Cake, and Nun’s Cake.

Museum Interpreter, Virginia Taylor, explains, “We’ve searched far, and have found recipes dating back almost 200 years. Some of these cakes may not seem all that special to us, but they would have been considered something special at that time. We’re used to having any and all ingredients available to us whenever we want them. History tells us that this was not always the case. Housewives had to skimp and save in order to be able to afford extras for ‘fancy’ baking.”

Take a horse drawn wagon or sleigh ride with Brandy and Lady, Remick Museum’s own Belgian mare horses, weather permitting. In the Museum’s main building, make Christmas crafts, including cornucopia ornaments, evergreen door swags, and origami gift boxes.
The Captain Enoch Remick House will serve sugar cookies, warm from the Glenwood oven. The House will beautifully decorated, dotted with toys that once belonged to Dr. Edwin Crafts Remick and his wife, Marion.

Admission is $5 per person. Friends of Remick Museum receive at least one free admission to Victorian Christmas depending on her/his membership level. You can apply your admission fee to Historic Thanksgiving to a membership to the Friends of Remick Museum, and receive free general admission and free admission to special events for a whole year!

While at Victorian Christmas, visit the newly expanded Remick Museum Store stocked with American-made country gifts and toys, including hand-made beeswax candles, Henderson Redware pottery, books, and historic toys.

Come enjoy some good food, a warm fire, country crafts, and a healthy dose of history. For more information on Victorian Christmas, call the Museum at (800) 686-6117 or
(603) 323-7591 or visit our website at www.remickmuseum.org.

Remick Museum is located at 58 Cleveland Hill Road, Tamworth, NH. Victorian Christmas is sponsored by Kokopelli of New Hampshire, 2420 Route 16, West Ossipee, NH.

Victorian Christmas is sponsored by:
Kokopelli of New Hampshire
2420 Route 16, West Ossipee, NH
(603) 539-4700
 

Beautiful World War I Pillow

Monday, November 17th, 2008

A beautiful photo of a World War I pillow has come to our attention. The individual who wrote wanted to know more about it. Here is the photo Please click on the link to view.

I am so glad that Kim B. rescued this pillow from being an attic discard. As you can see it is quite lovely. There is some vertical shredding of the silk, not uncommon in this era. Fold lines are also not uncommon to see after so many years of storage. Otherwise, the colors are vibrant and the message, “The Spirit of Liberty” compelling, accompanied by Lady Columbia holding a flag, and a separate wreath, as well as an Eagle, the symbol of our Democracy.

World War 1 pillows are distinctive. I hope that you will pick up a copy of The Quilter magazine and read more about them. Our article is in the January 2009 issue. Thanks to Kim for sending this wonderful example of a patriotic pillow.

Patricia Cummings

“Trees Standing in a Naked Row”

Monday, November 17th, 2008

Again, the trees have shed their leaves and “are standing in a naked row,” (Joni Mitchell), a harbinger of what is yet to come: snow! Some years we luck out in New Hampshire and have snow for Christmas. Sometimes, we even have snow in November, so it could be arriving any time now. Snow is so beautiful. I used to love to do cross-country skiing. It is easier to do so on groomed paths rather than, say, on the fields of the old farm where I once lived.

The old-timers always claimed that houses were warmed after the first hard snow, the snow providing a natural effect of insulation.

Around here, the beautiful snow is in my backyard, and eventually, due to traffic, the utterly yucky, brown snow is by the street. I can’t help but wonder how pleasant it used to be on this wide, Elm-lined street, to see horse and carriage go by, and in the winter, horse and sleigh. I take interest in the fact that the Honorable Daniel Webster used to ride past my home to reach his residence north of here. There is a photo of his conveyance in Ruth Finley’s book about The Lady of Godey’s.

For information about Mrs. Hale, the Mother of the American Thanksgiving, please see: Sarah Josepha Hale.

One had to watch the weather and be careful which vehicle to choose. The famous Sarah Josepha Buell Hale’s husband, David, got caught in a sudden snowstorm in the next town over from where they lived in Newport, NH. Having been very chilled, he became so ill, he died of pneumonia. That disease of the lungs is caused by a bacterial infection, although I believe there is also a counterpart known as viral pneumonia.

Researchers today have experimented to see if there is a connection between becoming very cold and wet and getting sick. If I remember correctly, they did not see a link, in clinical studies. However, sometimes there is much more to old “wive’s tales,” than one might imagine. The fact remains that the man was chilled, and before anyone could say, “Jack, Sprat,” he was dead.

Back to snow … Whether or not we have snow is pretty inconsequential for most local people, most of whom are not thrilled about driving in it or shoveling it. Those who own ski resorts and those who like to ski or snowboard are the folks who are ecstatic at the first hint of a large snowstorm. New Hampshire’s economy is really stricken in years when we have little or no snow. Now, however, they make man-made snow, and that helps, but only to a certain extent.

Our main concern is always in having a “White Christmas.” There is something totally magical about snow and snowflakes. Whether one crochets snowflakes or re-creates their patterns on a quilt, we just love their symmetry and the fact that they all appear to be different in construction. In March, during maple sugaring time, it is a New England custom to pour maple syrup on the snow and eat it.

Wishing you “white” in the near future. If you live in the desert, you have our sympathies, but, like Bing Crosby, you can always dream of snow.

Patricia Cummings

The C.C.C.

Sunday, November 16th, 2008

A recent magazine article that I wrote featured a C.C.C. Mother pillow, owned by a retired professor who lent it to us for the purpose of photography. You ask, “What is the C.C.C.?” The Civilian Conservation Corps was an organization for young men during the Great Depression. They accomplished all kinds of feats such as planting trees, pruning and maintaining tree plantations, building bridges, roads, and buildings, and doing much more.

This was a “make work” type of program under the FDR administration, designed to provide employment. Men had to meet certain qualifications and be of good moral character to join. They were paid, but most of their allotment was sent home, leaving them with a small amount for personal spending in the camp store.

In the state of New Hampshire, there were quite a few C.C.C. camps. I was thrilled to visit the museum associated with one of them at what is now called Bear Brook State Park. My association with the park goes back to when I was three years old. In the family album, there are photos of my brother and I, and my sister and I, on the public beach there. Later, I served as an assistant cook at summer 4-H camp, when I was in high school, and another year, I was a Camp Counselor. In high school, I camped with my parents in another area of the park, and when I was very small, I climbed the Fire Tower at the Park, with my Dad.

I recently learned that the main public pond at Bear Brook was excavated by C.C.C. members with picks and axes. If one swims in the water in a bathing suit with a white lining, that lining will turn red. This can be attributed to the underlying tree roots at the bottom of the man-made, spring fed pond. They leach tannic acid, a harmless ingredient (to humans) also found in tea.

The beautiful bathhouse there was built with granite stones, quarried in nearby Hooksett, and set together by the C.C.C.

Lately, learning more about the C.C.C. has been of great interest to me. When I received more photos of “Mother” pillows, etc. from an Interpretive Specialist for the National Parks Service, I was even more intrigued. You can see photos and descriptions of those textile on our website.

Whenever I mention the initials “C.C.C.” to anyone my age, no one knows what I mean. I have to explain. This was a Depression Era, stop-gap measure, to counteract the effects of poverty.

Yesterday, in speaking to an international conference, President Bush stated that if something is not done about the economy, we could go into a Depression greater than the Great Depression. That is an upsetting thought, and I think that most of us feel at the mercy of those who have the majority of wealth in America. We want those individuals to figure out a problem that “the little guy” did not cause.

Sometimes, we have to look back before we can look ahead. History is so important, and learning from the past is doubly so, because if no meaningful connections are made, then we have not gained anything. We will just keep repeating wrong decisions that cost lives, money, and quality of existence, again and again.

The C.C.C. tells a great story of America. We always rise to the cause and do what needs to be done, in good times and bad. With the right attitudes and some elbow grease, we will get through the current economic crisis. The young men of the C.C.C. may not be recognized today, in a society who has forgotten the hardship lessons of America’s past, in the wake of prosperity. The work of these young, unmarried men was vital to feeding their families of origin, at the time. The organization lasted from the early 1930s to 1942, and many of the men went off to serve in World War II, having been given confidence and self-discipline by their experiences in the Civilian Conservation Corps, a para-militaristic organization. When we look to the early twentieth century, we see many who sacrificed, again and again. We could all take a lesson.

With best wishes,

Patricia Cummings

A Pitbull with Lipstick On

Sunday, November 16th, 2008

Anyone who knows me, knows that I adore learning. My husband and I are lifelong learners, even though it has been years since we were sitting in classrooms to earn degrees.

Sometimes I wonder what people are learning these days, and even if anyone is learning anything anymore. That thought is based partially on the way that news reporters on television do not seem to know even the correct pronunciation of words.

Lately, so-called “educated” individuals cannot write well, cannot speak well, and cannot form sentences that are not disjointed, unconnected, and make one wonder what they are trying to say, anyhow. The most egregious example of someone who speaks in this way, consistently, has had enough press lately, so I need not provide a name.

I have never been a “hockey mom,” nor cavorted (for lack of a better word) with “Joe, the Plumber,” but I think that without too much trouble I might fall into the category of a quilt historian who is like a “Pitbull with lipstick on.”

There’s just one glitch in the analogy. I don’t usually wear lipstick. However, I do try to adhere to the truth, and I do care about the truth. I try to uphold the truth, even if telling the truth makes someone else uneasy, or rocks the proverbial boat, and even if what I say is misconstrued as not being “nice.” I have no interest in being “nice,” if “nice” means being quiet about someone’s falsehoods and errors. When the meadow muffins start piling up, it’s time to get out the shovel.

There are all sorts of lies: inadvertent misrepresentations, half-truths, lies of convenience, lies to cover up, lies because someone did not take the time to seek the truth (i.e. sloppy scholarship). No matter how you cut the mustard, these are all lies. If you are not telling the truth, then … you are telling a lie. Makes sense to me.

Having worn this subject thin, I will give it a rest, as full of disgust as I am at a particular situation involving misstatements. I will go “lie” in my bed, to ponder what makes people tick, before I count sheep with ticks. I guess a motivator for some individuals is money. Another motivator is social standing or prestige. I am just content with the truth, simple as I am. Now, is the truth really too much to ask?

Patricia Cummings

New Jersey Remembers WWII

Saturday, November 15th, 2008

A reader has alerted me to this video that celebrates New Jersey soldiers’ contributions and experiences in World War II. Click on “Watch the Entire Show.” Her 85 year old husband is one of the men interviewed. I am so happy to share this link with you. I was riveted, watching this production, earlier this morning.

Patricia Cummings

New Recipe and Redwork Design Posted

Friday, November 14th, 2008

On November 13, 2008, Jim Cummings posted a new recipe that we have enjoyed twice this week. He posted a design that can be worked in Outline Stitch embroidery, as well. Here is a response from someone who lived through the hard times of the Depression, and whose husband served valiantly in World War II. Here is the link to the recipes page: http://www.quiltersmuse.com/frugal-soup.htm

Hi Pat,

I had a few extra minutes so looked at the recipe and the design. Did I have a good laugh for myself!

I married a man born in Scotland of very frugal Scottish parents. NOTHING was ever wasted. My parents weren’t Scottish, but they didn’t have a lot of money either, esp. during the depression when my father wasn’t working, and if it wasn’t for the fact my grandparents raised vegetables and chickens, we might have gone hungry at one point. But we had a chicken once a week and just about every day thereafter in one form or another for quite a while. We even used the feet to make a wonderful, rich soup that you can’t make today.

The favorite quote in DH’s house was Waste Not Want Not so I will so much enjoy embroidering this for my kids who also heard it at least once a day. We grew up not wasting anything, and my kids and even grandkids couldn’t understand why the lights had to be turned off when you left the room, or you shut the water off and just didn’t let it run when brushing teeth, don’t waste food … well, the list goes on and on.

This piece will be a warm reminder of my in-laws and parents, the Depression, and my life to a great extent. I’m so glad Jim did this … it’s like it was made for me (and for many others I’m sure). Thank him for me.

Regards,

Carol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Carol,

Thanks so much for your kind note. I am sure that Jim will be happy to read it.

Best,

Pat

Antiques Stores Hold Tiny Treasures in Time

Thursday, November 13th, 2008

We really like to browse in antiques stores. They can transport one to another time and sometimes say something about popular tastes, the type of goods that were valued during a past time, and items that have clearly served a long time before they hit the shelves. The material objects that one encounters are always delightful. Each time one visits a store of that kind, the surprise factor is in place.

The other day, we wanted a break from work, so we visited one of our favorite haunts. Walking in the door, I spotted the following item, and before anyone could say, “Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Quick,” I had scooped it up into my hands and was ready to claim it as my own. What was this item I so coveted? Here you go:

Redwork pillow with image of girl and feather duster

The image of a little girl in Redwork, holding a feather duster, appealed to me. Isn’t she sweet?

After that find, I didn’t care too much about buying anything else, although I did find a few inexpensive things that called my name. These treats for the soul did not break the bank. I think that it is important for us to continue to shop, especially in the small stores that struggle to maintain themselves, on the best of days. If we don’t help, the next time we go to shop there, the store may not be in place, just an empty storefront, and how often have we seen that lately?

Sometimes, the smallest things can change a mood, or make one feel happy. Now, don’t get me wrong. Don’t spend money you don’t have, but every now and then, break into the piggie bank to “borrow” a little cash to buy a little something special. I did. Isn’t she great?

Patricia Cummings, Quilter’s Muse Publications, the home of more great Redwork designs and books, offered at no charge!

Book Sheds Light on Early Woman Entrepreneur

Wednesday, November 12th, 2008

There is a book and a DVD available from a website online. Both provide information about an extraordinarily successful woman who called herself, “Nelly Don.” She invented the house dress of the early twentieth century, and was determined to make the dresses fashionable enough to be desirable. As a result, sales soared and soon she was a millionaire. Her brand label, for house dresses constructed in own her factories, brought her wealth, fame, and problems.

She was kidnapped by thugs and held for ransom. With the help of gangsters, the mystery of where she was located was uncovered and she was rescued. Her life is one of high drama and industry as well as personal entanglements that were often a challenge.

This is a compelling book that should be on everyone’s shelf just because it is wonderful! High in graphic content and descriptive detail, the book is one that I can’t wait to spend more time viewing.

No one is paying to write this mini-review. I just like to keep my friends informed whenever I come across a really interesting book. The book and the DVD cost the same amount, $28.00, which includes shipping. I chose to purchase the book version of the story, but reportedly, the DVD provides additional information.

It is my believe that some of these early twentieth century woman entrepreneurs really set the stage for women who would live at a later time. They infiltrated the gray flannel cadre to set their own agendas, and to assert themselves in the marketplace. The book about Nelly Don, is a fun read, and I fully recommend it. For availability and more details, see the only site that sells these products.

Patricia Cummings, Quilter’s Muse Publications and Virtual Museum

Coming Out of the Fog

Tuesday, November 11th, 2008

River in the Fog

This beautiful photo by Patti Ives reminds me of the poem by Carl Sandburg (1878-1967). The first two lines of the poem say:

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

There is something wonderful about fog. The most fantastic fog is that which I saw in New Brunswick as we traveled the highway in the early dawn hours, the only car on the road, and the only visible life, a large crow, cawing, and flying between the tall fir trees that were saluting the dawn.

We often speak of fog metaphorically. If we say that someone is in a fog, it means that the person is not fully cognizant of his actions, and is perhaps executing them in a perfunctory way, not engaging in the moment, just “going through the motions.”

When we say that someone has come out the fog, the statement could mean that he or she is seeing things more clearly. In religious circles, we speak of seeing God through a looking glass, in other words, we are the mirror image of the Creator, but the Bible tells us that “then,” meaning in the hereafter, we shall see Him face to face.

None of us can see ourselves too clearly, can we? We cannot even decipher our own reasons and our own emotions. We keep asking, “What does it all mean? Why am I here?” Certainly, there is a reason for our sustained presence, and if we are still above ground, there is always some potential that we can do some good for someone else.

I love fog, particularly when I see it lifting off the mountains, revealing them clearly. I like to see sun through the fog, the hope of a sunny day. We must, however, live right now. Whether the fog is real and visible, or is existent only in the foggy-brains of ourselves or others, we must live with it until it passes. The joy of life is that there is always a new day dawning.

Patricia Cummings