Another attempt at the 24 seconds from my front door. The colors are changing, leaves dropping and nights cooler. The egg production is slowing, but still getting plenty of eggs from the hens.
Earlier this week when I released them and checked on food and water, I realized they had only a tiny bit of water. They followed me to the yard hydrant as I filled the bucket and jostled to all fit around the perimeter to get a sip. Once all had gotten a bit, I filled the tub in the run and refilled the bucket for the coop.
Our walks this week took us to a section of the Rails to Trails Huckleberry that we had not previously walked and back to the Pond, always a favorite, and up to the Conservancy which is probably my favorite hike. The pond was full of life this week.
An Egret looking for fish, ducks, and geese, so many, many geese.
This afternoon, I will dress in my re-enactment clothing, go to the Wilderness Road Regional Museum, and portray the spirit of Mary Draper Ingalls for the Spirit Trail wagon ride through the history of the region. This is a fun event and I understand that all of the slots for rides are booked. Hot cider, cookies, and crafts for the kids waiting with their parents for their turn on the ride are available. This will be the 3rd or 4th year I have been a spirit. If you were fortunate enough to get a seat, you will see me on the side porch with the village developer and shopkeeper, Henry Hance as he tries to sell his wares and calm my fears over the “indians” seen down the road. If you don’t know her story, Google it and read the Wiki article, it will give you an idea of why she was fearful. If the “indians” follow the wagon up on the last run, one is a blond, blue eyed child and I will call out to see if he is my “son.”
The past weekend Newbern Fall Festival was a success on all levels, except soap sales. The town, museum, and I all felt good about the traffic and sales. I took soap, stain sticks, salves, yarn, and some knit and woven items and spent two day behind the old quill wheel talking about the history and process of spinning. I added a quill full of finely spun Jacob to my bobbin and left about a half a quill full on the wheel. Of the yarn I took, about half of it was sold. Also a hat and woven scarf/shawl of the same yarn.
It is always a mystery as to what will sell at an event. Sometimes the soap sells as fast as I can reshelve it, this time, not a single bar (but my soap and salves are also in the museum giftshop, so some may have sold there). Often hats and fingerless mitts are the item, rarely yarn, but I sold 7 skeins this time. It allowed me to make a generous donation to the museum fund.
At any rate, my breed for the spindle blanket challenge is spun, plied, and knit into it’s square and a second breed is spun, plied, and 1 of two squares almost complete. I’m not really stressing over the October/November challenge, so I put my spindles aside, except for the one I carry all the time, and pulled out my wheel that has been so idle for many, many months. I have a 4 ounce braid of pretty Pohlworth wool and I am spinning it on the wheel. I purchased a skein of linen yarn in a compatible color and I am going to weave a lindsey woolsey shawl from them. I don’t have a plan for it; personal use, gift, sale, who knows, but I wanted to weave and had nothing but cotton available for the loom. Perhaps I should warp the loom with some cotton and weave a dishtowel or two to knock off the rust from my skills before I use the linen and handspun wool.
If I like the outcome of the shawl/scarf, I have another 4 ounces of sapphire colored wool that could be handled the same way, spun on the wheel, woven with linen or a tightly spun mill spun wool as the warp and made into another scarf or some cowls for the Christmas markets.
Yesterday, I received my personal property tax bill for my craft equipment and inventory and it was the most I have ever been billed. I look at my sales for the past two years and the expenses and question the wisdom of maintaining the cottage business. I do enjoy the demonstration and lessons I can provide at the events, and vending can be rewarding when someone really seems to like something I made, but most people don’t realize the time that goes into spinning the wool, knitting or weaving the garment, and thus my prices end up being only my cost without labor, so I am doing it for the pleasure rather than the profit. I guess there is nothing wrong with that, it does keep me in supplies.
Now to figure out how to market more than 50 bars of soap.
After the weekend, both hubby and I were able to get both our flu shots and a Covid booster. We are hoping for a healthy winter ahead.
The weekend was spent in support of the museum where I volunteer, Wilderness Road Regional Museum. The weekend was the Newbern Fall Festival, the major fund raiser for the Volunteer Fire Department and because of the traffic it brings, the major fund raiser for the museum. The town of Newbern was the first county seat of Pulaski County and was established in 1810 by Henry Hance, who actually moved Wilderness Road to go through the town. As you travel through this small town, you can see many of the original homes still in use, but enlarged to accomodate modern families. Even the museum is the original Hance house, Hance store, and his son’s house with an addition to combine them. The Museum has no admission fee and is manned solely by volunteers. The property has several of the old buildings, including an old German barn and several outbuildings and the addition of a reconstructed outdoor kitchen building. To support the museum, several events are held each year with donations requested and some fees to help support the events. There are three events, Founder’s Day, Spirit Trail Day, and a Holiday Caroling event where two gorgeous Belgian Horses are brought in and pull a wagon through the property and town with small groups who have reserved space to ride. And the Fall Festival and Old Christmas without the ride.
For these events, the local historical reenactors come out in costume and set up at the museum for the day or days it occurs. We have a Revolutionary War unit of which I am a participant as a follower and spinner, a Civil War unit, blacksmith, period leather worker, bobbin lace maker, Colonial toy demonstration, and weaver. Sometimes there is a scrimshaw horn maker, a basket weaver, and candle dipping. This past weekend, an old cider press was put to use making apple cider to sample and in the yard, a kettle set over a low fire in a hole with volunteers stirring apple butter being made. Brown beans and cornbread sold, a raffle of several hand made items donated, and an apple pie contest. People wandered through for two days, watching demonstrations, looking at the old tools in the German barn, sampling cider, and on Sunday, purchasing some of the apple butter made Saturday with more to be canned up for later sale.
It was a successful event even though it started off damp and drizzling on Saturday and I came home tired and sore from sitting on the wooden bench spinning all weekend. It is nice that these events can be held outdoors or in the large open barn so it feels like a safe event.
Last evening was moving day. The hens were herded and/or caught in a big fishing net or by hand and relocated to the Chicken Palace with food, water, scratch, 3 nesting boxes, and an old ladder that was cut in half and propped at angles against the roof beam to provide with with all their needs for the next week or so until they are comfortable in there and know it is “home” from now on. I expect today’s stress and the strange digs will reduce egg production this week, but that is the price I needed to pay to be able to clean up and repair the coop for the littles. The rain cooperated just long enough for me to get the move accomplished.
It was also moving day or actually transplant day for the young tomatoes. I wanted to wait a bit longer, but the second batch needed to go in the hydroponic garden, so the first dozen were transplanted into plantable 4 inch pots, placed in a plastic container that was the perfect size and they will begin outdoor days and indoor nights until danger of frost has passed and they can go in the ground. Once they were good sized sprouts, I used another dozen of the plugs to start 4 more tomatoes because daughter wanted 6 and I generally plant 8 or 10. Since the starter tray for the plugs holds a dozen, I started some Thai basil and some Cilantro to also share with daughter. Those had sprouted or at least germinated and needed to be under the light and fan, so they are in a position to be ready to put in the ground about the time of the last frost and a short period of hardening off.
Before putting the second set of starts in the 12 cell hydroponic garden, the water was dumped, the container cleaned out, and refilled with fresh water and plant food.
I’m looking for another one of the resin half barrels that I have used for raspberries and often for flowers and herbs. I will transplant some of the larger herbs from the smaller hydroponic garden that Son 2’s family gave me for Christmas and start a new batch of the ones I use regularly to grow in the house. I do like clipping them and using them in salads and for cooking.
I’m off shortly to my first event in a year. Founder’s Day at Wilderness Road Regional Museum, dressed in costume, set with wheel, spindles, wool, and some items to perhaps sell. It is outdoors and the rain chances during the 4 hours is 70% for two of the hours, zero for one, and 40% for the other. I will set up in the loom house or on a porch to demonstrate Revolutionary War period fiber preparation. My dark blue skirt will be paired with a dark blue mask which certainly wasn’t part of their garb, but will be part of mine today.
I suspect that if you are reading this, you are of like mind, or at least tolerant of differing opinions. The title was seen on a social media platform this morning and I think it says it all.
It distresses me that 45 has caused such division in this country that the inauguration of the President will be before fields of flag instead of people, behind high fences with armed National Guardsmen as the only “spectators.” He is out of Washington, lacking the class to politely and civilly transfer the power as has been done throughout history. But he isn’t out of office for another 2 1/4 hours. He abdicated his power months ago and the VP has had to try to pick up the reins.
On 45’s way out, pardoning his cronies and those wealthy who might give him a boost. Issuing executive orders to undermine the new administration, lifting travel restrictions to countries hard hit by COVID. All attempts to make the transition more difficult.
The events of the last two nights have been class acts, the lighting of the mall and the 200,000 flags, the memorial to those who have died of COVID that was so grossly mismanaged by 45 and his administration and the lighting of 400,000 lights along the reflecting pool in their memory.
I hope that Biden’s administration doesn’t discover too many disasters. I hope they will meet with a smooth transition, but am already seeing some of the same players in Congress who tried to block the certification of the Electoral College, trying to block Cabinet member certification. Players who obviously don’t take their oath to uphold the Constitution seriously, instead playing to their own political agenda.
The last 4 years have made me tired and stressed. I hope the next 4 are less so. I have lived through a lot of historical events, some to cheer for, some to stress over, some to mourn, but never did I think I would live through a President impeached twice in one term that has tried to removed rights of the citizens, block immigration, and tear our country apart.
The Wilderness Road Regional Museum for the past 3 years has had an afternoon/early evening event near Halloween, with two gorgeous Belgian horses pulling a wagon through the Museum property and streets of Newbern to be greeted by “spirits” of historical figures from the region, including 3 tiny, young kids portraying the Shawnee and an equally tiny Werewolf. The first year, I volunteered to help with tickets as no reservations were required that year, and to help with serving hot cider and directing some crafts for the kids in the outdoor kitchen, but the elderly woman who I had driven over to portray Mary Draper Ingles got cold very early and had someone take her home. I stepped in to do dual duty, helping to get the wagon loaded, then running in period clothing around the museum to be Mary on the opposite side of the property before the wagon got there, then back around to help prepare the next load.
Last year, I was asked just to be Mary and enjoyed playing the role of an anxious woman, fearful of getting caught out after dark. Then going into the museum and demonstrating spinning between the wagon loads.
When it was announced that they were going to do it again this year, with reservations and masks for all visitors, knowing that I was outdoors on the porch and in the front of the building, that I felt safe enough to dress in my period outfit, grab my shopping basket, and visit the spirit of the proprietor, Henry Hance, the founder of the town and shop keeper. We tweaked our part a bit to include more conversation between Doug (Henry) and me (Mary) and twice he caused me to turn to the wall laughing when he told Mary not to worry about the “Indians” that they were adorable. I didn’t set up to spin indoors this year, the museum part was closed to control the number of people inside, and to allow us to close off the old store for us to be able to safely go in as part of my skit sends me in while Henry finishes his part. This worked well, except for one “Karen” who felt entitled to come in with her group even after being told the museum was closed and the area we were in shut for our safety. She had donated something in that room and felt it was her right to bring people in to see it. Though she had to have a mask for the ride, none of them had them on in the museum. I stayed on the porch, wrapped in a wool shawl and masked between skits that occurred every 30 minutes for 8 wagonloads (about 70 people total).
It was good to get out and do some living history, see some of my living history friends again. I look forward to the day that I can return to more activities over there, to set up and spin, to work with camps and school groups on spinning and fiber usage during the late 18th and early 19th century.
Our cool days and chilly nights disappeared to upper 70’s days and warmer nights. It gives the garden a bit more time, and has provided some delightful days for walks on trails and the woods. I won’t walk our woods now because it is deer hunting season, but the Mountain Lake Conservancy is safe from hunting and has some delightful walks and hiking trails, only 4 miles and 2000 feet of elevation from us.
The roof through the trees, across the lake is Mountain Lake Lodge, aka Kellerman’s from Dirty Dancing fame. When we bought our property, we stayed here for a few nights with Son 1 and his family and the lake was full. It subsequently went dry and has partially refilled. We have spent two New Year’s Eves there enjoying a lovely dinner, big party with favors and champagne toast, room for the night, and breakfast the next morning.
This was another day, the cut through the mountain for the old Huckleberry rail line looking back at the walking bridge next to where the old rail bridge was. No matter the heat outside, this cut is always delightfully cool.
This weekend is an event at Wilderness Road Regional Museum, the Spirit Trail with horse drawn wagon and “spirits” of the region interacting with the riders. Because of the pandemic, the number of riders will be limited, reservations and masks required. For the past two years, I have portrayed an older, slightly crazy version of Mary Draper Ingalls. According to historical accounts, after her the capture, and that of her sister in law, and several children including hers, the deaths of so many of her relatives and friends in their community, her escape and walk back from what is now Ohio to our region, she was probably very fearful of Native Americans and of the dark. Because I am up on the porch of the house/store, and since the wagons only come by every 30 minutes. I am going to dress in my living history costume and participate this weekend. I have missed my living history and though I usually go inside and demonstrate spinning between tours, I will remain on the porch, masked when not “acting.” I love that this event can be done safely and give me the opportunity to participate and support the museum.
Old is a number. By number, I am old, but still active, healthy in habit, and fairly strong. I am older than my Mom was when she died by almost a decade. Old here in the mountains seems to be a lower age than I have reached, but I’m from a long lived arm of the family paternally. My great grandmother lived to 94, my grandmother to 88, my father to 92.
I love old things, but I’m not an antique collector. My parent’s home had many antiques when I was small, but most of them were replaced during the two years my mother worked outside of the home when I was in 7th and 8th grades. A few pieces were saved and a couple of those pieces have come to me. Two simple tables, hand built by past generations and kept in the family. One is a small table with three drawers that was in a kitchen long ago. When the top right drawer isn’t pushed tight shut, there is evidence of a mouse gnawing it’s way into the drawer, a small oblong hole and a keyhole with no lock.
My Dad cleaned this beautiful little table of paint and put a wax coat on it, it is repurposed as a side table in our living room.
I don’t know the history of this one, except hearing the story that my parents felt it was too tall, the legs had the same flattened ball shape turning at the bottoms of the legs and Dad cut them off. When it was given to me, the top was loose with nail holes in it, the finish damaged. It too had evidence of having been painted and the paint removed. I stripped the table, put L brackets under the top hidden by the drawer to tighten it and refinished it. It is the table between our chairs in the loft, where we put our beverages and my spinning bowl. It too is from my mother’s family home.
This cedar chest was in the hall at the top of the stairs of my in-laws home. When my Mother -in-law passed and their house was sold, we got the brass accented cedar chest. It smelled of mothballs and is full of old family photos and home movies from hubby’s side of the family. It serves as our living room coffee table.
When I was pregnant with our first child and we were moving from the duplex that I co owned with my parents into a larger home in which to raise our family, we bought me a Boston rocking chair for the nursery. It was used in the nursery for the older two children, but when we moved to a larger home in a nicer neighborhood prior to child three, I found this 1700’s pressed wood rocking chair in a shop where I bought the reed I used to make baskets. The gentleman caned chair bottoms and had begun making the pressed leather pieces that adorned some chairs from that period. This rocker came home to be in the nursery for the youngest.
Because of it’s age, it was used, but used gently. When youngest was about 3 or 4 years old, we elected to down size to a townhouse that we could afford on my salary as a school counselor so that hubby could open his own Law Office, knowing that it would be a while before his fledgling business would be solvent. Since the boys had to share a bedroom, the chair was put in the living room. Our children knew that if they used that chair, it was to be used gently. One Thanksgiving while we were living there, I hosted the meal for some of the extended family. One member, a large man sat in that chair. Son 1 suggested to him that maybe it wasn’t an appropriate choice just prior to him leaning back and snapping the back right off the chair. There was an antique repair shop that put dowels in the broken spindles and re glued the chair so that it looks okay, but it is now just a decorative piece. The seat is sound, and it is probably safe for gentle use.
Somewhere in our life history, a good friend purchased this antique treadle sewing machine at an auction. My husband purchased it from her for me as a gift. It has been in several locations in our homes, but fits nicely in this corner of our hallway and holds a landline phone that we must keep to have internet. The brown rectangular box basket on top is my great grandmother’s sewing basket. The machine has a leather drive band and still works, though I think it needs a good cleaning and oiling.
There are a few other small items, a child’s chair that is from my Dad’s childhood, another child’s chair that belongs to one of our Daughters in law, a bentwood doll’s chair made for my mother, and a small pottery jug that came from my mother’s family home. And in our loft, the large Walking Wheel seen in the header photo. That wheel, a gift from hubby a few years ago, purchased in an antique shop in Front Royal, Virginia on a visit to Son 1’s family. It is a functional wheel and knowing now what I didn’t know then, we paid about twice what it is worth, but it is beautiful and I love it.
Whether these pieces stay with our children when we are gone or not, this is so they know some history. I have thought about putting the history of each on a card and tucking the card in a drawer or under the lid. They haven’t all “fit” in some of our homes, but they are all perfect for this log home in the middle of a farm.
Wilderness Road Regional Museum celebrated Olde Christmas today with the traditional King’s cake and the burning of the greens. There was story time at one end of the museum and my weaver friend, Kim and I at the other end. There were cookies, hot tea, and craft beer available. A roving fiddler to provide music. A Colonial toy set up by another friend, Mary.
The local militia gathered and fired off a multi gun salute.
We wove and spun for about 4 hours for visitors, discussing fiber in the Colonial era, visited with each other and guests.
I said goodbye to the wheel in my photo as it was donated today to the museum, reducing my herd to two, my huge Walking wheel and my everyday “in the style of” wheel. When I spin there, it will be one of my options for use.
Next time, someone else will take my picture, selfies don’t seem to work so well.
The blanket beat the baby. The weave was completed last evening, but I didn’t want to work with my sewing machine without very good light, so it rested on the loom overnight with the small towel.
After the morning Farmers Market run for some protein and veggies, which we did between the early morning rain and the arrival of the cold front with wind and more rain, the weave was carefully removed from the loom. The third panel was added to the other two, the ends hemmed. The other three pieces were also hemmed.
The crochet hook located and a single crochet edge applied.
With fingers crossed that there wouldn’t be too much shrinkage, the four pieces were put in a cool water quick wash in the washing machine and a dry on low in the dryer. The blanket shrank a bit as expected, but is still baby blanket size. I think the Lily Sugar and Cream shrank too much for the towel to still be a towel and the smaller one is a dish drying mat or hot pad size. The dish cloth is ok.
Maybe 3 more woven with the same warp amount and the three blocks, I will have a set of placemats. If packaged with the hot mat and 4 napkins sewn from a matching color cotton fabric, it will make a nice set to gift or sell.
As tomorrow is Olde Christmas at Wilderness Road Regional Museum, the rest of the evening is being spent making sure that I have clean fleece to spin, fiber on the ring distaff for spindle spinning, and a basic men’s hat cast on with hand spun Jacob on the bone DPNs. That will give me plenty to demonstrate to any visitors that tour through the museum. The militia will be outdoors and will fire off a salute to Christmas. There will be goodies to eat, craft beer to buy, some crafted gifts to purchase, and music. It is a family friendly event, so if you are a local reader, it should be a nice if cool day to come out for some fun.
Cabin Crafted 