Tag: Sycamore

First Date

Their first date was at a church gathering for an all-day-sing. 

They grew up in the same county, attended the same high school, but it was a long commute between their homes. Twelve miles represented a fortune in time and money – in the early 1930’s, times were tough.

So they wrote to each other.  And one heard about a sing that was going to be at High Hill Church, in a far corner of the county – some ten more miles from each of their homes.  But families took Sundays off and went to such gatherings.  They planned to meet up at the sing, and the courtship became official.

They married a couple of years after that sing and went on to live and prosper in that same county…the “til’ death” part lasted 52 years, all spent in Turner County.  Prosperity didn’t come quickly – there were hard times on the farm – but happiness and contentment flourished.  My sister and I benefited from two loving parents.

This art quilt I call First Date tells a story of their lives in Turner County and includes evidence of many memories.

I found a map of Turner County printed in the 1930’s in an antique store and transferred it to fabric.  The colors in it and in the photos of my parents from that era dictated the whole piece.  (And ya’ll know I lean toward browns….)

I made a legend for the map depicting the church where they had their first date with a heart shaped button.  Other beads and french knots show the location of their homes and church home.

I included do-dads from a milliner’s supplies (my mother was one of the last to give up the habit of wearing a hat to church), bits of tatting, lace, buttons.  

There are remnants of one of Daddy’s suits, a bit of lace from one of Mama’s dresses.

A fabric flower is made from barkcloth much like the living room drapes we had when I was a child.

I made this and mounted it on canvas several months ago.  I haven’t shared it before because I’m not quite happy with it on the canvas…I keep looking at it, wondering if it’s best that way.  I may add a frame or may remove it from the canvas and finish it more like a quilt.  But …here it is, as it is.

Update…since writing this post, I found a couple of relevant photos..

A photo of my parents shortly after their marriage in 1935.
A photo of High Hill Church made in the 1930’s shows how the church would have looked on the occasion of that first date. It also reveals how appropriate the name is.  In the flat terrain of Turner County (average elevation 407 feet), High Hill sits at a dizzying 420 feet above sea level.

Teacakes

I’ve been baking. Among the things I’ve explored lately are teacakes.

The word “teacake” transports me through time.  When I was a college freshman, living a new quasi-independent life, but homesick at times, I went to the campus post office to find a package waiting for me.  

When I think of teacakes, I am transported to a memory.  A college freshman, living a new quasi-independent life, but homesick at times, I went to the campus post office to find a package waiting for me.  

The package was from Aunt Nellie.   A shoebox full of tea cakes.  They were wrapped in waxed paper, layers and layers of tea cakes.  The box was heavy – full of love.

My suite-mates and friends on the hall in the dorm were as excited as I was.  A couple of us went across the street from campus and bought a jar of peanut butter.  Part of this memory is that we had to put on dresses – because girls were not allowed to wear slacks in town.  We could wear “pant suits” (not jeans!!!)  to class, but if we left campus, we were “representing the school” and had to dress appropriately.

Back to the tea cakes.  They were fabulous!  I ate Aunt Nellie’s teacakes all my life and loved them – but these were especially memorable.  Because that box was filled with love from home ( I now realize she must have been missing me terribly in those days) and shared with loving friends who impacted my life forever!

I don’t always put peanut butter on my teacakes, but sometimes I do. And that was a critical element when the box arrived from home…I had to share them with peanut butter!

I don’t have Aunt Nellie’s recipe – when she died, my mother asked if there was anything I especially wanted from her house.  I had a long list including her “receipt book”.  The book was a spiral bound calendar from some insurance company.  But she used it to write down her recipes.  When I got it, I immediately searched out the teacake recipe.  It said; sugar, flour, butter, egg, soda.  Nothing else.

That was all the information that she needed…a reminder of what ingredients to include. That was insufficient information for me.  

The recipe I used is one from the White Lily Baking Company’s website, with a few modifications of mine.  I omit the nutmeg and add 1 teaspoon of almond extract. (Update: Since writing this, I’ve made them using lemon extract instead of almond and they are the best yet! Lemon tea cakes don’t need peanut butter or nutella – they are great on their own.)

The photo at the top has teacakes on one of Aunt Nellie’s plates.

On Valentine’s Day, I made some teacakes that were heart shaped….and we upped our game adding Nutella instead of peanut butter.  Oh, yeah!

And speaking of hearts, I’m still making stuffed ones.  I’ve added a few more red ones to the big bowl. And, I baked heart-shaped buttermilk biscuits on Valentine’s Day.

Note:  My Aunt Nellie was such an important figure in my life that I’ve written about her again and again.  She’s one of the Spinster Sisters, and she’s featured in Miss Nellie’s Country Garden.  I mention her every time I talk about geraniums and often when cooking.  Typing “Nellie” in the search box will keep you busy reading for a few minutes, at least.

Cousins

Jane and Susie were not just cousins.  They were first cousins.  They were not just first cousins, they were double-first cousins.  

Their mothers were sisters, their daddies were brothers.  They were two years apart in age, and shared not only all their relatives, more than the average common DNA, but many experiences.  This early photo (about 1940) conveys the closeness they shared.

This photo was taken at the home of their paternal grandparents.  Many family photos were set on this porch, on these steps, actually.  Imagine a Sunday afternoon after church, adults visiting on the porch; maybe other cousins playing in the yard, neighbors dropping by.  These two almost sisters (later, they would have other siblings, but not yet), forging a lifelong bond.

I printed the photo on vintage linen, and added red French knots as buttons on Jane’s dress.  The bow in her hair is a found earring.  

Layering the photo on wool batting before densely quilting the background adds dimension to the girls. The oval “mat” is a vintage linen embroidered placemat layered on commercial quilting fabric. Beneath all this assembly is a layer of thin cotton batting. Shells (repurposed from an old necklace found in a thrift store) were attached using red seed beads to anchor them.  I hand quilted all the layers together using a seed stitch with tatting thread.  This thread is a new discovery for me (found in a bag of sewing supplies from an estate sale).  I’ve never tatted nor made lace, but the size 80 cotton thread created for these crafts is perfect for a lot of the hand stitching I do. 

Note to quilters:  that seed stitch leaves a messy backside, so when I use it, I don’t have the final backing on the quilt.  I attached another layer, the piece with red cross stitch on it, using the invisible baste stitch I learned from Jude Hill.  That’s really a seed stitch, too, with just a dot of thread showing on the top, the longer stitch on the “back” nestled in the batting, not coming through to the other side. 

That backing with red stitching is a section of an old tablecloth.  I found it on an antiquing plunder and was drawn to the cross stitch, of course.  The tablecloth has some stains and had a hole in it – making it less than desirable as a tablecloth.    But I rescued it and put it to work.  It’s very desirable as a component of art quilts!

The final quilt measures 16″ x 23″.

Papa’s Girls

This photo was taken around 1920, the girls with the man whose name peppered lots of stories.  His daughters called him Papa, one calling that name in the days before her death.  “Papa is waiting for me.”  

In this photo is Papa with two granddaughters; Cleo was born in 1914, Corine in 1916.  Their mother died in 1918, giving birth to their little sister.  Their father was in the Army, then a traveling photographer, so he was not around to parent them.  They lived with this grandfather, spinster aunts, and an invalid grandmother.

The photo is printed on a fragment of vintage linen fabric, layered with wool batting, then collaged with bits of vintage lace, rickrack, beads, ribbons, hand and machine stitching.

The green background is a heavy linen fabric, frayed on the edges.  I try to channel the little girl in me when I’m playing this way.  One of the things I loved to do when I was a child was to pull threads on the edges of linen fabric to make a fringe.  I see I still have that skill.

The heart in the top left is a bit of a silk log cabin quilt that was deteriorated to smitherins.  I’ve used bits of it several times, but this time the edge seemed a bit too raw.  So I couched a twisted black and white cord around the edges.

I layered all of it on a bit of new commercial fabric that looked old to me, then used freemotion quilting in a heart strings design to make the many layers one.

The backing is another commercial fabric that reminds me of a dress my grandmother wore.  The label is becoming my go-to; handwriting on a vintage doily.

I’ve written more about these spinster aunts before:  https://sandygilreath.com/spinster-sisters/

And, did I mention that the older girl is my mother?  Oh, the wonderful Papa stories I’ve heard!  I remember more every time I see his image.

The finished quilt measures 26″ x 16″.

Miss Nellie’s Country Garden

On a recent Saturday ride-about, we took a big wool quilt in case we saw a spot for photos.  We found a spot at Starr’s Mill, and gave Miss Nellie’s Country Garden some places to pose.

The quilt is my version of a pattern from Lisa Bongean of Primitive Gatherings.  The wool appliqué is stitched by hand onto cotton background fabrics.  The piecing together of the blocks and the quilting are done by machine.  

As I worked on all aspects of this quilt, I thought of my Aunt Nellie.  The wool appliqué – informal and free – and the garden theme led me to know the quilt had to be named for her.

She was known as Miss Nellie to most everyone in the community.  I was lucky enough to know her as Aunt Nellie.  She was a teacher, and so there are some people who knew her as Miss Hobby, too.  She lived next door for my entire childhood, and serves to inspire me every day of my life. 

She lived to the age of 91, and only in her 91st year was she unable to tend her garden.  She grew vegetables to eat, to share, to can, and to freeze.  She grew flowers for the joy of the bloom.

Aunt Nellie’s vegetable garden was neat and orderly, but her flowers were a riot of stems and leaves and blooms.  Weeds were kept at bay in both places, but the separation she maintained in her butterbeans and squash was not valued in her flowerbeds.  The snapdragons and pansies, the petunias and lilies and gladiolas all mingled about, with her snipping a cutting here and poking it in an empty spot there to take root and fill a space.  And, take root they did.  Her green thumb was legendary, possibly due in part by the load of fresh cow manure a local farmer delivered to her every spring.

She grew geraniums in pots, dahlias in a  separate bed all their own.  She had a bit of yard art, too.  I remember a whimsical bird bath, tiers of porcelain basins given to her by a friend.  Once it developed leaks, it was repurposed as a planter for succulents.


So the whimsical nature of some of these quilt blocks is a perfect tribute to a woman from the country.  The label is a block I had made because Miss Jump, one of Linda Brannock’s creations, reminds me of Aunt Nellie.

More quilt details:  The quilt finished at 60” x 75”.  I used a whipstitch to secure the wool to the cotton, usually with perle cotton thread, but sometimes with embroidery floss or even fine sewing thread.  The quilting is all hand-guided freemotion stitching on my home machine.  I used Dream Cotton Request batting and a cotton fabric for the background.  And it was all fun!  Just as Aunt Nellie would have wanted it to be.

Oh, and another detail.  Because the wool is so visually heavy, I made a wider binding than I usually do.  The “standard” 1/4” binding seems so wimpy on a large wool quilt, so I cut the binding 3 1/2”, then folded in half and stitched it to the front of the quilt with a hearty 3/8” seam allowance (or scant 1/2”).  The binding then finishes (with these fabrics) at 1/2”. I used a woven plaid (easy to stitch down by hand) and cut it on the bias.

More about Aunt Nellie:  I’ve written a lot about Aunt Nellie already, if you type “Nellie” in the search box, you’ll find several references to her.  But, she is the older of the two “Spinster Sisters” in this post, where I shared more details of her: https://sandygilreath.com/spinster-sisters/

Soup and Cornbread

Today was a snow day, a sew day, followed by a cold, cold night.  Our supper was one we have frequently in this weather – vegetable soup and bread.  Sometimes the bread is a crusty loaf we can dip in olive oil, sometimes it’s soft yeast rolls with butter.  This night it was a southern favorite, cornbread.

 

Cornbread baked in my mother’s  cast iron skillet.  That skillet holds more memories than grease molecules.  My mother baked cornbread in it every single weekday of my memory.  No matter what the menu, no matter how hot the kitchen would be in the summertime, the oven and pan were preheated to 400?.  Meanwhile, a simple mixture of self-rising cornmeal, egg, and whole milk was stirred together.  When the pan was hot, bacon drippings were poured in, then the batter, then it cooked until done.

The round pone was always inverted on a plate, cut into eight wedges, and set on the corner of the table next to Daddy’s plate.  I don’t recall Mama ever eating any, but Daddy ate it at lunchtime, and again sometimes at supper.  Sometimes his supper was simply a wedge of cornbread (room temperature, never reheated) and a glass of milk.

Aunt Nellie, my mother’s maternal aunt, preferred hoecakes; thin cornmeal cakes cooked on top of the stove. From her comments, I inferred that Mama’s recipe was one from Daddy’s family and that she adopted it for our meals.

We ate plenty of leftovers at our house, but never leftover cornbread.  Even if only one wedge was eaten at lunchtime, the remainder was discarded and a new pone cooked the next day.  I don’t know why.

In my adult life, I’ve tried many cornbread recipes, many pans, and many other options.  The alternatives are all good; we enjoy jalapeño cheddar cornbread occasionally, hoecakes are served at our favorite local restaurant, and once I discovered Tasha Tudor’s cornbread recipe, that complex sweet concoction sometimes finds its way to our table.  Tasha advised that hot cornbread is better with a bit of butter and honey or blackberry jam on it.  I agree!

I’ve baked cornbread in square pans, long pans, muffin pans; some glass, some stainless steel, some cast iron.  But nothing gives the crust like Mama’s old cast iron skillet.  But the cornbread will stick to that pan if I use any lubricant other than bacon grease.  So I’ve learned to cook bacon for breakfast if I’m planning to cook cornbread later in the day.

A nice rubdown afterwards with a paper towel is the only cleaning my skillet gets.  No water, no soap.  A childhood memory more than 50 years ago is of Mama and Aunt Nellie building a fire outside and “burning off” their cast iron cookware.  Then they seasoned them with grease of some kind and put them in the oven.  This skillet was one of those.

Mama’s Cornbread Recipe was: 1 cup self-rising cornmeal, 1 egg, 2/3 cup whole milk.  Mix ingredients.  Preheat oven to 400? with iron skillet inside.  Pour 1 tablespoon bacon drippings into pan, swirl around bottom and sides of pan, then pour in batter.  Bake 20 minutes. (All quantities are my approximations, she didn’t measure anything.)

As for the vegetable soup recipe, it varies depending on what’s on hand.  Tonight’s version started with a leftover rump roast, potatoes, carrots, onions, portobello mushrooms, corn, some frozen butterbeans, diced tomatoes.  Cooked slowly, tasted, seasoned, simmered some more…

Summertime in South Georgia

Memories of a hot summer day in my childhood include sweet, juicy, sticky watermelon.  At our house, there was most always a melon or two cooling in the shade of a pecan tree in the backyard.  Mid-morning was the time we would gather round the picnic table with Aunt Nellie’s butcher knife, some forks, and a big appetite!  I had a salt shaker in my hand, too.

This quilt is made using a photo of childhood friends with slices of that summertime treat.  The photo is printed on vintage linen fabric, the watermelon slices are painted and seeds are hand stitched with black thread.  A seed stitch was used, of course.  Machine stitching and wool batting adds dimension to the piece.  It is layered on red fabric and a remnant of denim jeans, measuring 10” x 12”.

Thanks to Arlene for permission to use the photo.  She and her brothers Wayne and Jerry portray the perfect summer scene in south Georgia!

 

You Can Make Anything

I’ve long had a quilt in my mind called Family Lines in which I would record oft-repeated lines from family members.  It would bring warmth as a cover, but also warm memories for others to recall the voices from the past.  Some of those lines I’ve already written about, like Daddy singing “Pa, he bought him a great big billy goat…” or Wallace’s oft-quoted line “you shore can’t sop syrup with ‘em.”  Advice like Aunt Nellie’s, “Always plant geraniums in clay pots,” and Jim’s   query to the girls, “did you unplug the curling iron?” will add practical notes, too. (Details of those stories are here, here, and here.)

One line I would have to include from my mother is, “You can make anything.  But you can’t make everything.”  I quoted this to a young quilting friend of mine last year as we were discussing some of the tempting patterns for making tote bags.  Though they are lovely and give one a unique accessory that displays favorite fabrics and techniques, they are time consuming to make.  She repeated my mother’s line and said, “Wow.  That’s so true.  And a powerful line to remember.”

Yes, she was right – it is a powerful message.  I’ve had that line running through my head a lot lately.  I look around my sewing space and see fabric waiting to go in the dye pot, fabric that’s been dipped in the dye pot and ready to compose into Rescued Remnant pieces, photos to print on fabric, strips of fabric waiting to be woven backgrounds ala Jude Hill.  In my sketchbook is a series of churches I want to put on cloth. On my design wall are components for my Paducah journal quilt in progress. In another basket are luscious wools cut and ready to stitch.  Of course, the time for the guild challenge draws closer.  And there’s more, including a few UFOs that could command my attention.

Then there’s the avalanche of images and ideas that press into my mind wherever I look.  Especially if I look online.  Projects that are physically unbegun, but I have to resist the temptation to begin them.  My mother also said, “Finish what you’ve started before you start anything else.”  ( I know –  the mention of a few UFO’s tells that I don’t always follow that advice.)

I try to use the brainpower generated by my morning walk to plan my “work” for the day. (I put that word in quotes because I do think of the “do the work” advice given to artists fits my daily activities, but in no way is what I do in the sewing room anything but FUN.)  Lately my focus of that brainpower has been to narrow the field of possibilities and remember, to paraphrase my mother’s advice, “I can do any of these things, but I can’t do all of them today.“

The photos show snippets of today’s temptations.  At least one of those will get some focused attention.

Mail Call

Oh, boy, oh, boy!  Excitement arrived in the mailbox today.  I opened a package from a distant relative and was transported back in time to the days when my Grandfather wrote letters to me from California.  I was in elementary school and he was my best pen pal!  He typed his letters on onionskin paper and folded them very precisely to fit just so in the red and white striped air mail envelope.

Our newsy exchanges were pretty humdrum everyday stuff, but it was exciting to me because our letters traveled by plane.  GrandDaddy had moved to California when I was a young child to escape the Georgia humidity with his asthma.  He did return to visit a few times,  and there were occasional long distance phone calls, but our deepest conversations during my formative years were by letter.

After my most recent post including him in a photo, Ilse and I chatted and she said she had more photos of his that she could send.  GrandDaddy (Homer Youngblood) had two families.  My mother was born to his first wife, Cora, who died when my mother was four years old and her sister was two.  Later, GrandDaddy married Miss Katherine and had two more children.  Ilse married Homer, Jr. and is the keeper of many memories and stories he shared.

Today is the anniversary of my first blog post.  Site stats say this is the 105th post I’ve written.  I never made a formal plan to share something on a schedule, and didn’t really have a plan as to what I would include.  If I had an original goal in mind, it was to continue the journaling I’ve done on paper, on cloth in 52 Tuesdays, and now on the web, to encourage others to record their stories in some way.

This blog has grown into a way to document my quilt stories, old works and new projects as well.  The new projects that excite me have included many photos, sometimes family members, so the old stories behind the photos have now been written down, too.  And I’ve been the joyous recipient of others’ stories (and sometimes their photos) once readers knew I was interested in such things.


This package from Ilse holds some family photos, both previously seen and new to my eyes, as well as some of unknown people GrandDaddy was hired to photograph.  All are interesting, but the treasures are the ones of him that I had not seen before.  Oh, my, I think Ilse in Arizona must have heard me squealing as I opened the package!

Now to scan, print, and stitch!

Four Brothers

The man on the far right…what’s that he’s holding in his hand?  That’s my grandfather, here with three of his brothers.  When I find a photo in which he is included, I’m always intrigued by how the photo was taken, since he was usually the one behind the camera.

I recently wrote about the coincidence that both my husband and I had maternal grandfathers who were professional photographers.  Sometimes we can find a cable in the photo leading to a remote shutter release.  Those were available from as early as 1918 in  advertisements like this one found here.

In this case, zooming and examining (you can click on any image to enlarge it) reveals no cable, and in the 1940’s when this photo was probably taken, there was no timer built in to cameras as we have now.  However, my Grandfather did have a son who helped him with his photography business by that time. Homer, Jr. went to work in the darkroom at age 7, in 1935.  It is likely that he, Jr.,  is the one taking this photo.  And, GrandDaddy is probably holding the remnants of a cigar.

I printed this photo on fabric from a vintage linen tablecloth, painted some elements, layered it on wool batting, and stitched around the figures with silk thread.  It is layered on cotton fabric, a layer of old burlap, and then on an old quilt remnant.  The resulting piece measures 14” x 17”.


The process of stitching these photos sometimes yields as interesting an image on the back as on the front.  Here you see what one viewer considered the shadows of these brothers.

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