A Visit To Biltmore House by Sandra Russell

A Tour of Biltmore House
by Sandra Russell
 

Last weekend, my sister agreed to drive me to a memorial service. She wanted to see a grand mansion located a few miles away from that event, and so we went. It was on her "bucket list" to see The Biltmore House dressed up in lights for Christmas. We got there early in the morning of our scheduled tour. The driveway to the house was over two miles long, much of it lined with low limestone walls, and neatly trimmed grass in front of thick forested hills. The entire estate takes up 8,000 acres and the views and vistas are grand.

After our tour we saw signs along the road not noticed on the way in - "Goats at work", then we saw a pasture of goats sort of lying idle. But thought must be the groundskeeper’s goats? All I can say about the house itself is that it is huge and beautiful, after climbing some of the steep stairs and feeling the muscles in the back of my legs stiff the next day, could only imagine what strength it would have taken to be a maid in that house, running water and chamber pots, laundry and firewood up and down those stairs all day!

I did enjoy seeing the greenhouses both in the house and further afield. More steps and brick pathways had us stepping through three sculpture gardens and a pergola covered in grapevines. It was a misty morning and cool, so the clear light and warm temperatures of the greenhouses filled with all manner of color combinations to see was a contrast to the foggy grey skies of early morning. Flowers, flowers, and more flowers; bulb flowers, orchids and shrubs bearing purple and pink fish shaped flowers, pineapple plants and bamboo stalks gave the feeling of being in summer, in some exotic location.

When driving home the next day and looking at the Tennessee mountains, we laughed at how much the scene looked like Chinese scroll paintings, the mountains rising so sharp and upright against the deep ravines and the clouds of the sky sitting all around us. It's been a long time since I was in the mountains, so used to our rolling hills of SE Ohio. The six-hour drive took us far from what is familiar. I have included a couple of photos I took with my phone of the Orchids at the greenhouse.

Biltmore House, Asheville, North Carolina USA
Photos by Sandra Russell

Partridge in a Pear Tree - Story and Art by Sandra Russell

 

Partridge in a Pear Tree - Story and Art by Sandra Russell

The Twelve Days of Christmas is a familiar Christmas Carol to many. I recently read that all the seemingly silly gifts were actually coded messages for some churches to keep traditions unique to them but forbidden by other Christian sects. The four calling birds for example, are said to represent Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. 

   

As far as the pear tree and the partridge, it is most often repeated part of this round, and it is also "the first and the last" gift, and the "first and the last" part of the song. So in symbol and in structure the song is representing Jesus Christ. The partridge is a mother, and the pear is also somewhat feminine in shape and color, so one would be tempted to see Mary here? But in many old depictions of the Christ child, he is shown holding a pear. A pear tree produces fruit for many decades and seems to live forever. In fact, a few years ago, I was surprised to revisit an old pear tree from my childhood, and to pick a pear, still good to eat from one lonely seemingly dead branch. There was only one pear on the tree, and that was the one with one large perfect pear, still hanging from it. I felt it was waiting there for me, as all the field around it was grown up with brambles and brush, fires had wiped out the other trees, but there it stood, and one year after a long absence I returned to claim it.

Anyhow, back to the song. The pear tree represents the cross, and the partridge represents Jesus, because he died for his 'children' as the Partridge is said to sacrifice herself for her young. But also, the pear tree represents enduring life, eternal life, and perhaps only the appearance of death. I love pear trees, as had happy memories in what once was an orchard, I would ride the farm horse (Prince) around the hills, and stop for a pear or two, before our final descent to the barn, the sun would be setting behind us in a minute, but a sweet pear stop would take us home.

Feed the birds, Feed your soul by Sandra Russell

The recent more than chilly temperatures make it very tempting to pull the wool socks out, put the kettle on and simply hibernate for the winter, alas; we are not bears. We are more like birds. Some of us 'fly south for the winter' and some of us have jobs to do, ideas to hatch, and bodies that just need to get moving whether we really want to or not? I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's not only our world that needs supporting, the Northern birds and other wildlife are out there and food supplies are scarce once the seeds have fallen and are covered in snow, foraging and shelter changes.

I have shown here as an illustration, a lovely quilt piece done by my cousin K. It is a sweet reminder of the challenges and the benefits available to us in winter. One of those benefits is an awareness of our variety of Ohio birds, we look more carefully at them and notice feathers and personalities we may not have noticed in the busy colorful landscape of summer. For me it invites the sort of focus one applies to Springtime blooms, noting every new color and contour of a lily or a crocus. This quilt features our State bird, the Cardinal, against a frosty background of greys and icy looks, but the bird is perched on a branch of golden flame-like stitches, and he himself is a cozy quilt of red, gazing at the fireplace. Winter affords us to contemplate these contrasts and to share our comforts to warm others. 

 

The First Thanksgiving by Sandra Russell

 

So many different sources mention this dinner as a definite event, others are so vague as to suggest not much happened or if any special meaning is attached to it. Some report it as a small affair, very humble with a few native Americans, and a few Pilgrims, some Puritan and some not, and other Plymouth Colony families. While other reports speak about a huge harvest feast, lasting more than a five-day affair.

I think enough reports of hunting with colonists and indigenous people contributing geese, duck, fish, shellfish along with five deer from the hunt for the occasion. Wild passenger pigeons, grouse and turkey being boiled and roasted with herbs, onions and produce from the gardens planted the previous March. It is certain that root vegetables common to English gardens were used, such as turnips, parsnips, and carrots. Corn would have been a native North American variety; and 'Indian corn' is mentioned in several reports as being part of most daily fare.

Considering that the Pilgrims arriving on the Mayflower were also accompanied by Pilgrims who had resided in Holland for up to a dozen years previously, that some Dutch products would also have been included. A part of me also wonders if they brought any tulips with them. I read that beer and wine were on the Mayflower, rationed to a gallon a week per passenger. Provisions for the trip included cheese, bacon, peas, oats, barley, and salt. The winter may have been difficult the first year, but this first harvest seems to have been a quite abundant one. Certainly, if the winter prior had been a sparse one, this seems to have been worth a celebration.

While many stories seem to conflict if not contradict others, there are letters from the time and place that document in part what was going on in the Plymouth community. It is easy to imagine the rich and easy hunting available in that woodland area, as well as clam digging and fishing in the shallows (certainly an old habit and skill of the Dutch). Cranberries are also a fruit found in the coastal Northeast, so maybe the reason for the tradition we keep today? It is always a good day to give thanks to the good. 

Dance Like Nobody's Watching - Art & Story by Sandra Russell

 

We all have some sort of title/identifier we introduce ourselves with; and it is required to have a quick response when asked What do you do? Answers tend to be brief, polite and simple. Such things as I'm a housewife, I'm an Rn, or I teach fourth grade in the city school system. This is normal sorts of information, about how someone earns a living, and maybe these titles indicate a certain direction of interest? Like I'm a physics professor creates a different set of expectations from the meeting, a sort of distance or closeness depending upon your own background and interests. 

Compare expectations for I'm a physics professor to I'm a middle-school physical education teacher, to I'm playground monitor and cafeteria worker...Even with these variables, everyone that I have ever met, is MORE than any of these titles, more than any expectation. 

We Americans have enjoyed a freedom not everyone invites to their "bucket list". We are told to expect great things from life, maybe in school told that “Anyone can grow up to be the president of the United States.” A picture and story of Abe Lincoln often accompanies this lesson. It's not actually true; temperament and ambition, skill and popularity all sorts of conditions decide who might be a president at one time but not another. In America the freedom to believe it is possible is not only allowed, it's expected from us to dream big, to expect much.

As we mature and take on responsibilities of our chosen careers or family concerns, it is easy to see ourselves as that one thing. I'm a mom who works as a clerk. Or I'm a doctor and my patients need me 24/7. That is my life. We are though, more than all of that.

I saw a mechanic today and because I shared a bit of my art with him, he shared a song with me that he wrote for his son. He wanted to work out a performance piece to share a relationship with his son. So, not only is this man a mechanic; he is not only a father, he is a pro-active relationship builder, he knows the limited time he has to influence or build the bonds with a child.  Years in a child's life are like dog years. You don't get to just declare I'm a father and pose for holiday dinners...it's a living breathing relationship, with a few windows open to share in any vivid way, and that window may be open today, but not on Easter?

What I have found over the years is that people have many lovely sides. I found a lost dog and returned it to a man who was a sales clerk, but whose passion was for canning fruit and vegetables. Not just storing and preserving food, but for making the most beautiful arrangements from the shapes and colors of the food  in the jars. This guy composed shelves of peaches and plums, cherries and ??? in aesthetic arrangements that would rival stained glass windows! How lovely to see people doing something just because of…? Joy?

My cousin, a nurse is also an incredible quilter. My singing friend in Atlanta, holds a biology degree from Stanford, and works as a yoga instructor. I love seeing these other sides of people, the part of them that just has to manifest. No audience required. No valuation of effort in the form of grants or other income. Done without looking at a time clock, or approval by a supervisor. They 'dance' like no one is watching, and reveal some of the most interesting parts of themselves. Carry on!

Trick or Treat: Art & Story by Sandra Russell

Trick or Treat
Original Art & Story by (c) Sandra Russell

Halloween or 'holy eve' refers to the evening before November first aka "All Saints Day". It is a long tradition of belief that the souls of the dead; good and bad, arise to walk among the living on this day, maybe even crossing into heaven or hell. In medieval times beggars would knock on doors and receive gifts of sweet cakes sometimes called 'soul cakes' and would in exchange say a prayer for the soul of departed members of that household. Given that winter was by then well on its way and cold and winter afforded no promise of bounty, this seems a practical last celebration of summer?

In the 1930's "Beggar's night" was the eve before the eve of "All Saint's day" and children would dress up as scary monsters or lost souls, to scare away any real bad souls that might be up and about. Still others would do the opposite and be fairies, heros, angels, and clowns. Any disguise of self was a protection against the 'bad guys'.

Again, the dating of the practice of giving apples, candy and snacks to children going door to door is a practical one. Considering the great depression beginning in 1929 and then the rationing of sugar during the second world war anything like coffee tea and fine snacks was not in every household.

My father would tell us about his trick or treating experiences as he grew up in the 30's being born in '29. He lived in the mining town of Mineral, Ohio. He told us about the community flavor of the holiday and how the neighborhood would sponsor social activity for the kids and chaperones  in the form of wiener roasts, taffy pulls, and bobbing for apples. The boys took the 'trick' part of the treating to heart as well. No toilet papering houses, doubt they had toilet paper? Sears catalogs in the outhouses more likely. He would tell of the popular sport of tipping outhouses over at that time, and how men would prowl with shotguns to protect them. A favorite 'trick' of sorts was to spook one another in the local cemetery with hide and seek games and given that the cemetery was also a 'common' for grazing cows, many cow patties were left to be used in battle. Much like a snowball fight in winter, the boys would make fortress behind tombstones and lob one another with the dried bovine droppings. One Halloween, his dad (maybe his last Halloween, as he died when my dad was only twelve) they were playing this sport and the pop joined in, threw some good ones (he was the pitcher for the Buchtel White Sox). But then that triumph came to an end when he caught one in the face, bottom side up. Yeah, still fresh on the underside. My dad would seldom smile, but he would when retelling this story.

Blennerhassett Island Under a Full Hunter’s Moon Story & Photos by Sandra Russell

 

Blennerhassett Island, Ohio River, West Virginia

Blennerhassett Island Under a Full Hunter’s Moon

Story & Photos by Sandra Russell

My sister and brother-in-law recently celebrated a three decade+ anniversary by going to a special dinner on Blennerhassett Island in the Ohio River. The night they chose coincided with a full moon conjunction with the planet Jupiter, the winter's evening star. They took a ferry boat from Belpre to the island and as the sunset turned to darkness, the candle lights on the island were the only illumination for the guest's arrival, creating a magical sensation, floating slowly over water aiming for a puddle of golden fires. 

This evening was a special event for the island as well. This weekend was also an anniversary for the Blennerhassett settlement and residence of the tiny island. Tonight was a special feast and a reenactment of a 'servant's party' staged for the year 1805. Guests were encouraged to dress in period clothing as well in order to keep the illusion going of stepping into the shoes of the settlers.  Besides a dinner of traditional turkey, vegetables, and gingerbread, there were performances by costumed dancers and musicians. Some listened to storytellers telling 'ghost stories' and historic information about place, such as the rarity and value of the glass window in an Ohio cabin of the day. After dinner they strolled the grounds outside the house, found gravel walkways lined with fire baskets to warm hands along the paths. They also managed to catch a ride in a horse drawn wagon before returning to ferry home. 

Blennerhassett Island, Ohio River, West Virginia

Blennerhassett Island, Ohio River, West Virginia

Regrets by Sandra Russell

Original Art (c) Sandra Russell

Regrets

Art and Story by Sandra Russell

We often wonder at the change of seasons. Autumn seems to bring out even more nostalgia and reflection than the others. We think about our old school days, and the excitement of new friends and goals, maybe we are just finishing a summer just out of school and are headed for a new job somewhere. Maybe not, maybe we have known many summers and are reflecting on the path not taken? 

We wonder how different our lives might have been "if only"? I wake up sometimes, not from nightmares, but from what I would call 'bad dreams' and in common these dreams feature myself younger, on streets I no longer walk or with people who have passed away or maybe just really aren't features in my life and I wonder what is that all about? Maybe I should have gone to the dance, or gone to that other school or said, no to that one boy and yes to another? 

The trouble with this sort of thinking is that we still only are giving ourselves a sort of fork in the road, and that's a contemporary fork we see now because of our experiences. Maybe those mistakes were exactly what we had to do under the circumstances at the time? The other problem with this is that we are still doing an either/or sort of frame on this little scene. 

The other day I considered how often I do this, and suddenly it occurred to me that there is often if not always, a third choice, maybe a fourth choice and more?! I decided that the path of regret, belongs to a backward glance only as far as you can use that to make today better for yourself and those around you. Trying to relive a past not lived is to walk backward down a rabbit hole. It will only rob you of today and your tomorrows. So, shake that off, look at the beautiful leaves and scents of fall, and drink it in as living this moment richly. Appreciation is the key to moving forward. Happy trails!

Just Back from a Glamourous Wedding: Art & Story by Sandra Russell

Wow, so I just experienced a once in a lifetime event. I was the mother of the bride at a wedding in Los Angeles. The bride and groom paid for their own event as they are both mature and independent. I was treated simply as an honored guest, which was quite a treat. The venue quite out of reach and exotic for a country lover such as myself, but I like to think I am flexible (though, the traffic in LA does make me cringe; at least I didn't have to drive).

First of all, I flew cross country. I haven't been further than 150 miles from home for 9 yrs. Then land to meet my future son in law for the first time and get dropped off at an air B&B where I meet old friends and family to share a 4-bedroom house til the wedding. The back yard is filled with fruit trees; figs, oranges, and even pomegranates! I didn't know they grew on trees? I tried to sketch and watercolor a few of them, but again much was going on to draw focus.

I won't bother to mention some of the side trips we took but go straight to the wedding/reception. I shook out my fancy mother of the bride dress and was glad the wrinkles dropped out of it. Wedding planners, and makeup people and photographers told me where to go, and how long to wait. Suddenly it was time to walk down the aisle. My sister and I followed the groom’s mother and father to music from a huge pipe organ, felt like Buckingham palace. My co-mom and I lit two candles then took our seats. After the vows and ring exchanges the couple took the candles we lit and lit a third large candle to seal the union. It was all very elegant.

Then we were driven to the reception where we also stayed the night. The Langham Hotel in Pasadena. This hotel was built between 1915 and finished in the thirties. It is quite glamorous, and the service is fantastic. I found that even with my arthritis and lack of general athleticism, that having a group of friends, a live band, and a meal to dance off, got me up onto the dance floor a few times. I had to laugh at one point as well, when one song came on, two of the girls I was dancing with (now in their mid-forties), I had danced with in our humble old cabin when they were in grade school and high school! Now here we were again, dancing to the same song in a posh hotel filled with flowers and champagne...It was just so sweet; and they were laughing too.

The Langham Hotel, Pasadena California

The courtyard

 

Life's Little Bumps in the Road - Art & Story by Sandra Russell

Original Art (c) Sandra Russell

Life’s Little Bumps in the Road

by Sandra Russell

As some of you may know I was in a parking lot accident about a month ago. Just a couple of scratches, but due to the age and miles on my car, the insurance company 'totaled' it and bought the car from me. I have a rental for a couple weeks so I can find another vehicle.

A week after my accident I helped a man back out a giant panel truck that was boxed in by other cars at a grocery in town. He was a huge fellow and had no room to open any of his doors to climb in. He begged me to back it out of there for him. He looked flushed in the face sweaty and short of breath. I was so scared to drive such a thing in reverse with no windows, but told him to 'watch my back and get out of the way.' Took less than a minute to do, but I was shaking.

Later two women came up to me to thank me for 'being there.’ I am scared of parking lots now more than ever. So, I'm on the alert; being extra cautious. Life is full of little ironies or mother nature jokes or? Just an hour ago, I parked the car to run into a local grocery store for one thing. As I was walking from the car to the store could scarcely believe my eyes; two cars were backing up fast at the same time and directly behind one another!!! No one was looking except at the sides...I was running and flailing my arms yelling "WOAH! WOAH!". Miraculously each car braked at the same moment and missed one another by less than eight inches. I tell you, the visibility in many cars these days is not good for these sorts of conditions. Be careful out there.

September Skies - Art & Story by Sandra Russell

September Skies
Art & Story (c) Sandra Russell

September Skies

by Sandra Russell

A good friend of mine and I were driving back to Athens County from shopping in Columbus some years back and saw in the late afternoon sky what I suppose anyone might consider a gloomy threatening sky ahead. She informed me that the little chunky clouds that formed long horizontal rows of "black sheep" meant lots of water in the clouds (the darkness) and the fact that they seemed to diminish in size as the elevation increased meant that this would also be more than a days' worth of rain or weather change, and the height dropping towards us loaming ever closer, meant just that, it was coming soon. The lateral pattern indicated colder temperatures as well and so this would fall as snow or most likely; the dreaded freezing rain. 

I am not sure if I am remembering all of this correctly, so I looked it up on the internet where there is loads of information on cloud patterns and weather. In fact, too much information to include here. However there are four basic cloud types: high altitude, medium, low lying clouds, and vertical reaching clouds. Within these categories, we have variant combinations of three basic forms. The  pretty pile of mashed potato ones, (or ice cream depending on your mood), those are Cumulus clouds. There are also Cirrus clouds, what my grandmother used to call "mare's tails"...wispy stringing things without a care in the world but can indicate wind movement and direction of weather changes. Stratus clouds cover the sky like a solid wall of blue/grey/white glumness. 

I have just today learned a combination of clouds to watch out for… that is the Cumulonimbus cloud. It is a combination of a cumulus cloud with a vertical reaching cloud and looks a bit like an anvil shape. According to sources, the anvil point indicates the direction the storm is taking. This cloud does indicate lightning thunder and storm. Interestingly Thor, the god of storms, carries a big hammer... so here is his anvil, I guess? Interesting subject which I will take more time to digest later. 

The skies of September and October are some of the most beautiful and various in the entire year. I think we could all enjoy a little sky gazing and weather prediction in the weeks ahead.

A Reading Exercise - Art & Story by Sandra Russell

Original Art by (c) Sandra Russell 

A Reading Exercise

by Sandra Russell

As a 'player' in community theater for the past dozen or so years, I appreciate how some people are so capable of 'cold reading' lines from a play and are able to give character and meaning to unknown text. Some are able to supply extra nuance in tone, timing, pausing; to convey so much more story, to what is on the written page.

The English actress Zoe Wannamaker is especially worthy of study , because she is so good at nearly 'throwing away' a line, but by saying it this way, it informs the character and personality of this character so much more than if she delivered it in a more pronounced important manner. I saw her play a really tough, sort of street woman and be convincing as a criminal type, cheap desperate and self-protective. And she was really good at that character that you love to hate in an episode of "Prime Suspect" starring Helen Mirren. My favorite character she performs is called Ariade Oliver. She is a fiction writer, an accomplice for Hurcule Poirot in crime solving and to argue fictional detecting versus real murder solving. The Character Ariade, like Poirot, are inventions by writer Agatha Christie; and thought to be a characterization of herself as the writer of Poirot. If that is true? It seems the author is trying to tell her readers about her personal life, and her methods in yet another voice.

I mention all of this for the idea that as readers, we tend to read in our own voices, don't we? We also write about ourselves in letters from a first-person stance; so it might be interesting practice for us if we can, to have someone else read what we wrote in their voice to see how the intention differs? When you write a letter to a loved one, don't you imagine those words in their reading voice? Don't you alter what you write to an eight year old from a thirty-eight year old? I think it helps to remember we all process these phrases in a variety of ways.

Reading a play rather than a short story can remind you of this. We read a variety of characters to see how we might broaden our own ways of approaching the written word. And if we are able, to find old forgotten diary entries or letters we wrote and try reading them again as if they were about another person...see how the "voice" might change? Another reading exercise that some enjoy is passing poems around a table, with other people reading what someone else has written. It can be eye-opening, in the best way, and help everyone with their own expressions. This is best if everyone has a copy of the poems being read and can silently read along, just through that process they will hear a conflict between their head and the reader's voice. It's interesting. 

Dutch Oven Cooking in the Great Outdoors by Sandra Russell

 

Dutch Oven Cooking in the Great Outdoors

Art & Story by Sandra Russell

Last week I opened my big mouth to volunteer to cook for an outdoor party/reunion in October. I haven't used my Dutch ovens at all in recent years and I have 4 or 5 of them? Yikes! I did used to cook in these cast iron wonders frequently. At one time I even cooked a small turkey outdoors in the snow for a Thanksgiving. I cooked in a Franklin Woodstove and at a Pioneer's Celebration at Tar Hollow State Park. But like I said, it has been years, so my confidence can only be improved by doing a couple trial runs before October.

I intend to try stacking two of them for two pans of cornbread (never cooked them stacked but have seen it done). Apple crisp or a cobbler in one, and for old times’ sake and really delicious eating, will do a beef dish. Basically will be cooking a full meal. Maybe do some bean soup as well.

Anyhow, this recipe is one of my own. I actually made this dish for a Cinco de Mayo party about 15 years ago. Here it is…

You will need a ten-inch cast iron Dutch oven, some charcoal briquets and lighter fluid, a hook to lift the hot ashy lid when the food is done and some serving ware. 

3 or 4 lbs. of sirloin tip

1/2 cup of Cabernet Sauvignon or other dry red wine

3 cloves of garlic

1 large onion chopped

Marinate the meat for a few hours or overnight in refrigerator with a teaspoon of soy sauce, a teaspoon of honey, 1 Knorr brand (only) beef bouillon cube

A couple fresh basil leaves or a shake of dried basil

Drain a small can of pinto beans, (hominy might be good, too)

Add a can of diced tomato with green chilies drain lightly

To cook this, start a fire in a sand pit or bare area of ground and put about 10 charcoal bricks in a stack, light these and when burned down and glowing set the bottom of the Dutch oven on those to heat...reserve another small pile of about 15 charcoals and light those off to the side to 'stoke the fire' and to add to the lid later (just helps prevent lighter fluid from running where it shouldn't).

Once the pot has warmed a minute, add all the food ingredients, top this with the cast iron lid and place your reserved hot coals on top to cover the lid, pile them up, make sure the lid is on level when all gets hot this will make a seal. (It's a good idea to have a pot lid lifter, or a small crowbar and a whisk broom to brush off the ashes and lift the lid when the food is done).

After cooking about an hour, add half a lb. of Monterey Jack or Colby Cheese to the food, put the lid back on and heat an additional 20min. Serve with guacamole and chips black olives, chopped onion...etc.

It's delicious!

The Parade of the Hills by Sandra Russell

The Parade of the Hills

Art & Story by Sandra Russell

The Nelsonville Parade of the Hills opened last Wednesday, the 17th of August. This historic celebration (in its 72nd year!) marks the summer's end and is a rite of passage of sorts for those returning to school. This celebration is not a fair, it's not about agricultural harvest, no one is selling a pig, or judging pickles, though I think there is a pie contest? I know there have been in the recent past. This celebration reflects the traditions of the harvest time, but that  the summer workers, shifting for the fall workers? I know the brickmakers and potters of this region used to 'snowbird' to Florida in winter and return in the spring.

I think this celebration marks the end of summer as a sort of 'goodbye and see you later'! Also, even the name; parade of the hills, suggests an isolation from one another that is especially true in winter rural areas. See you later, as in when it thaws. Many people did not have the opportunity to gather much anyhow, except maybe close neighbors helping one another or family get togethers for weddings or 4th of July. The idea of a parade is very glamourous in such isolation and is a chance to be friendly with communities nearby, that are little known, maybe never been there...so, that's what Murray City is doing.

So, that's the band [see illustration] from Logan (the Logan Marching band is a favorite of mine, and I didn't go to that school). There is a beauty pageant where smiling waving girls from tots to teens play dress up for serious wins! Scholarships and great opportunities to participate as a graceful and patient citizen. There is a fiddling contest that draws many folks. When I was a child I came to the parade and the fiddle contest was the big draw...the square was packed with hooting and hollering for the favorites…and they were not wanting for talent. The contest is now indoors and there is a nominal fee. It's probably still good to watch and hear, but entirely more "indoorsy" than when I was young. Also, not done in more than fifty years I'm sure; when I was about ten, a thrilling horserace took the square...any sort of horse who entered could run it.

Everything was spontaneous...want to fiddle? Get up there- got a pony to run...start here with the rest of em. I just was reading about the Parade of the Hills history, and it seems the festival is more than 72 years old, because formerly did not include the beauty pageant or a parade and was a combination of a school reunion, a baseball game and a carnival. The local civic groups decided to add monies and events to the whole as a way to fund a Christmas charity and so the "Parade of the Hills" was born in 1950 from another annual  gathering called the "Hocking Valley Festival". I did not find as yet the beginnings of that event. But it is interesting to me that this sort of festival, simply of regional neighboring towns began and continues to go on. The contest between festival Queens should be looked into. Of course Jackson has the Apple Festival, and Circleville has the pumpkins, but still agriculture, even to stretch a bit is the "Moonshine" Festival (corn). But the Parade of the Hills is just that. The people of these communities show themselves and people want to see them.

Editor’s Note: Sandra submitted her story prior to the Parade of the Hills, but we’ve been a wee bit behind. Mark your calendar for next years’ event! Visit the Nelsonville Chamber of Commerce website to see all of the exciting events in southeastern Ohio’s premier hometown.

For Want of a Spoon, a Soup was Almost Lost! by Sandra Russell

For Want of a Spoon, a Soup was Almost Lost!

by Sandra Russell

Oh jeez...I have been trying for the past couple of months to declutter and reorganize. I am limping along with  a dance of two steps forward  and one step back progression. Keeping  domestic scene smooth and simple involved donating an assortment of various household items to friends, family, and charity. Dropped a flatware set for twelve people with the matching serving set with a cousin. The problem was that it looked good in the drawer; but was very unbalanced in the hand. Would fall off the plate and was just difficult to use.

After the last Thanksgiving dinner, the red flags all pointed to 'change it up'. Given that I have some 'good' silverware that I never haul out, I decided the prudent thing to do was, to think 'less is more'. I only had to really have 'everyday' flatware to serve two to four people. The good stuff  then to come out for the couple times of year when trusted friends and family would be assembled for a holiday event. Summer picnics and bar-b-ques could be served with plastic and paper items.

Whew! Okay, now. Started to purchase a place setting at a time, a sort of not 'high end' but not 'low end' (used; 'like new', discounted) service for four. That should do it. My fourth and final, (I think?) place setting arrived today. Oh joy! but then shudder! I realized that one soup spoon was MISSSING!!! from the three previously purchased sets! I tried to think back to when I used it last? Cat food...did I spoon out cat food and leave it on the porch? Could a raccoon have picked it up? I looked up and down the driveway, under the now becoming weed-like hollyhocks out front. I pried apart the wisteria vines choking out the ivy where all are choking the life out of the holly tree  and still no spoon?...Getting tense now.

This is why I can't have good stuff...animals; animals must have taken it. I looked in all the drawers in the kitchen, nah, in the junk drawers, under the armoire/secretary in the dining room. I looked in the vegetable bin, the potlids drawer and the bakeware cupboard. No spoon. Okay, time to get out a yardstick and broom and fish under a few more appliances; stove? Nadda...but wait?! Why is that piece of foil (thought to be a lid from a coffee can} so tough to budge? Reached down and there it was! The backside of the bowl of the spoon shone under the refrigerator...Gag! with biscotti dough still stuck on it. Okay, biscotti was a few days ago. Hmmm?

I should feel ashamed of this neglect. But I was so happy to find it that gladness took over. I washed it and washed it again and wiped dry ‘til it shown like all the others; then counted yet again the orderly and symmetrical state of my flatware drawer. Hooray!

I can relax about that particular obsession for a minute. It is tough to be orderly, to limit the numbers of items that clutter and burden us. But in my case, I can get pretty burdened by one soup spoon. During the hunt, I imagined the soup I would be making soon, and then often in the fall, and how rude it would be for me to invite a couple of friends to have some, then to offer them a plastic spoon...just wouldn't be the same soup.

Stripping and refinishing an old dry sink with progress illustrations by Sandra Russell

I bought an old dry sink in an antique store about 18 years go. It was cute, painted black with sort of clear glass oversized knobs on it, which gave it an Art Deco 30's feel. Underneath however the wood seemed to be spoon carved with sort of primitive leaves, and I discovered that the knobs except for one on the door was not the original design, which had 21/2 " drop handle pulls. The holes for the pulls had been filled with wood putty and a new hole drilled in center for a knob.

Well, I thought, this poor thing should be restored to its original form, until I stripped it. I used a citrus stripping material which by the way works best if kept wet, so tip on that to you strippers, lay some plastic wrap over it and leave it a few hours. Don't be tempted to scrape too soon.

The first layer of paint (black) bubbled up like lava, and nearly removed itself. Voila! Got excited for a minute. The next layer, now in spots, still hard enamel, in others like a really thick bubble gum but also oily, really tough stuff. Hmm? Okay, put on more stripper, some plastic bread wrapper and walk away. Lucky move because that softened the layer of green under the white and helped to lift that off.

As I continued to scrape the globs of multicolor sludge and toss into the trash, I also found a friend in tsp (tri sodium phosphate) powder. This is a washing aid that eliminates much need for mineral spirit cleanup. I was dismayed to find that fine wood, such as oak or walnut was not the wood beneath all this, but instead a scorched and stained utility wood with little grain, likely poplar. I decided that the paint and knob repair was not as historically inaccurate as I previously thought, and decided to repaint it.

I found some opaque wood stain for below half price (a mis-tint at the paint store) it was a sort of green cast charcoal and went on like paint (water-based cleanup). I did the carvings later with an aqua green 'chalk paint' and decided to forgo the bail pull handles for some glass again knobs. This time the knobs are green and slightly smaller.

All this will go into the bathroom to store 'bathroom stuff'. I'll put a basket of nice towels on the top and a tray for bottles of witch-hazel, and that sort of daily used liquids to protect the top. 

Not sure if you will be stripping furniture in the near future, but if so, maybe this information will be helpful to some of you?