by Jeannie Travis
So many of the old traditions are being lost , and sometimes even large families don’t have a member that is willing to take the time to learn the old crafts and herb remedy secrets. You may have to go outside of your family. I know of a right young boy around here that did very well at marketing his chair bottoming talent. Wouldn’t it be nice if you had a family reunion and got everyone together to cane chairs and other old time things ? If you can’t set something like that up, how about having someone with a video camera film YOU caning a chair, weaving a basket, making a doll or quilt, while you talk about family memories ? What a wonderful Christmas gift that would be, and you could get copies for everyone..
When I was about 6 or 7 Daddy got tired of having to sit in ‘rump sprung’ straight back chairs, so he undertook to bottom them himself one rainy winter day when the field work was just a memory of backbreaking work over till early Spring rolled around. There was a certain amount of grumbling, if I remember correctly – *smile*. I believe he used the inner bark of hickory trees/saplings, and it dried a lovely burnt sienna brown.. He sent us kids out to scavenge up some pieces of broken ‘winder lights,’ as they were called, and used the edges of glass to smooth down rough edges. I have done that since then, too, on wooden things .
Now those chairs wouldn’t win any beauty contests when he was done with them, but they were still good and strong the last time I saw them. Seems like the chair wore out before the seating did, with 9 kids roughhousing on them, and Mama just bought a whole set of straight chairs with curved slat bottoms..
Didn’t nobody want that old fashioned stuff setting around back then any way. Why rassle’ with a heavy old iron teakettle when them aluminum ones was cheap and jist as light as a feather to lift offen the stove. While you’re at it git a “lumium” water bucket and dipper so’s we can git rid of that wooden bucket and dipper gourd. No more bringing
white sand up from the branch to scrub that bucket clean . Had to do that you know, to keep that well water fresh tasting.
And them ‘sad irons’! Mercy, if you ever used one of them things you’d know jist how they got their name. Pushing one of them around smoothin’ a weeks worth of wash would make anybody sad! Wasn’t nothing called Permanent press back then — ever’ little thing had to be ironed. Yep, every stitch that went on our backs, and Mama wanted the piller slips gone over as well. Oh me, I’m gitting too tired to live jist thinking on it! Reckon I’ll go set out on the porch and rock awhile – maybe drink me a cup of hot sassafras tea sweetened up with some of that honey Pa brought home when him and his brothers robbed that bee tree over on the side of the branch. I wish you could come and set with me for a spell. The hollers are still misted over this early mornin’, but the tree covered hills are flaunting colors to rival a Joseph’s coat….. Jeannie T