The Art of Making Lace by Tatting

Both my great grandmother, Ernestine M. Curley, and my grandmother, Mary Clyde Curley Terrell, kept samples of tatted and crocheted edgings and patterns for future reference, much as we keep printed patterns and directions today.  I do not remember my mother, Opal Terrell Teal, tatting, but she loved to embroider and crochet.  I have done my share of needlework through the years:  embroidery, cross stitch, crochet, and knitting but among my needlework supplies I count some of their handed down needles and patterns among my treasures.  In the first photograph, there are 4 of their edging patterns which I framed, among others.  The second row of lace above is tatted lace done by my great grandmother Ernestine.  The shuttle she used is shown in my hand in the photo below.

Tatting with a shuttle is the earliest method of creating tatted lace. A shuttle facilitates tatting by holding a length of wound thread and guiding it through loops to make the requisite knots. It is normally a metal or ivory pointed oval shape less than 3 inches long, but shuttles come in a variety of shapes and materials. Shuttles usually have a point or hook on one end to aid in making the lace. Antique shuttles and unique shuttles have become highly sought after by collectors — even those who do not tat.

To make the lace, the tatter wraps the thread around one hand and manipulates the shuttle with the other hand. No tools other than the thread, the hands, and the shuttle are used, though  a crochet hook may be necessary if the shuttle does not have a point or hook.netting and decorative ropework as sailors and fishermen would put together motifs for girlfriends and wives at home. Decorative ropework employed on ships includes techniques that show striking similarity with tatting.

Sewing instruction manual and sample, designed by Sister Mary Loretta Gately, as used in Sisters of Providence schools in the Pacific Northwest, 1908-1917
The Women's Museum, Dallas, Texas (special exhibit Women & Spirit: Catholic Sisters in America, 2009–2010)

Scattered Memories

I heard a loud crash early one morning last week and rushed to check on Joe, who was getting dressed.  Then I walked through the kitchen and front part of the house looking for damage.  One cat was sitting calmly on the back of a chair but the other cat hid for the rest of the morning.  I didn't have to guess which one had knocked a bowl of homemade pot potpourri onto our ceramic tile floor. Skye came to spend the day with me and as she helped me take this picture and sweep up the broken pottery and remains of dried herbs and flowers , we talked about the damage and how breaking something can make us sad.  She wanted to keep the broken pieces of the bowl and some of the dried rosebuds to put with her fairy garden supplies.  Then we swept the rest into the trash.

It was only after I looked at the photo that I thought more about why this dish of dried petals was special.
Every thing in the bowl was from our garden and had been added one at a time.  The tiny Katrina rose buds and petals from a fragrant Maggie rose and the yellow rose which clambers over an arch,  tawny, leathery Magnolias, lavender fronds, pieces of basil and rosemary, even a dried slice of Meyer lemon.  All were gathered and collected in a small hand thrown bowl fired in a speckled jade green glaze that I bought when we lived in Indonesia over 20 years ago. Some of the rose buds had been picked by little girls and proudly presented as a gift. Joe likes to bring me a flower or piece of herb when he comes in from the garden. It was a joint endeavor.

So I was sad, not for the things broken and scattered, but for that which they represented: the growing and choosing and gathering, the connection and love of my family. And once again, I know that I can let go of things, but that I keep the love.

Mignon and Mary Ann

                                                                  2013

Last week I had lunch with my friend Mignon.  We have been friends since 1947, which means 66
years of friendship! In the early years, we lived in the same town, Jacksonville, Texas - close enough to walk to each other's house for after school play or overnight.  We went to the same elementary school, West Side Elementary.  Between second grade and sixth grade, we had the same teachers, enjoyed playing with our pets and dolls, and even had our mothers make us matching outfits.  We "roasted" saltines over flashlights under the covers when I spent the night at her house.  We had twin baby dolls named Gwendolyn and Wendolyn and what seemed like an endless parade of kittens which sometimes got to wear the doll clothes. When Mignon's family moved to Houston during our 6th grade year, we began letter writing and occasional vists for a week or so in the summertime.  Mignon continued to live in Texas after college and marriage while I lived with my husband and family in Oklahoma, Oregon, California, and Texas as well as for some years in Indonesia.  Through all those years, we kept in touch with letters and infrequent visits, and now there is email!  There has never been a time we have been together that we don't just pick up where we left off, as only good friends can do.  As one friend remarked when I posted the above photo on FaceBook - "the smiles say it all!"

                                                                    1947

Gardens and Granddaughters

As you can see, Jordann is really getting into gardening these days.  She loves picking the tiny clusters of Wild Cherry tomatoes that have taken over the herb garden.  She and her sister, Maddie, also love popping a tomato in their mouths for tasting while they pick!  These plants have come up volunteer all over the garden this year, and although I have pulled up many of them as soon as they appear, there always seem to be more. The tomatoes are only half as big as most cherry tomatoes, and are great for tossing into a salad, but the plants are so sprawling and invasive they are crowding out everything else.  So, this weekend, I will be pulling them out and getting the raised bed ready for fall vegetable and herb planting.  This is clearly a lesson that applies to other parts of my life:  just because something is pretty,  interesting, fun and flourishing doesn't mean it is the right choice or the best time for me to let it continue to use up my time and energy.  I am always learning from my garden.    

When Jordann comes back to our house for another visit, she may notice the jungle of tomato vines is gone, replaced with something else that is good to eat and fun to harvest.  And I know that she will be just fine with that. As in the picture below, Maddie and she will take a basket and gather what grows in the present.  I learn that from my granddaughters - that loss and change do not always mean sorrow.  That new things are good, too. And that doing them together is the best of all.       

I love what my garden and my grandchildren teach me.

                                                        

July Birthday Boys

July is a month for celebrating.  The 4th of July cookouts and fireworks are barely finished when we finalize birthday plans for both my husband and our youngest son.  I remember when Joe turned 40 (no small accomplishment, since this year numbers 76, and there are more and more things that I do not remember!) The three boys and I made a big poster/birthday greeting that stated 40 wishes we had for him.  We also had Baskin Robbins make an ice cream cake in the shape of train cars inscribed "Keep on Chugging, You're Not Over the Hill Yet!"

This year, it is Ben's turn to celebrate turning 40!  How quickly these years have gone by, and what wonderful memories our family has of every single birthday. I remember his 2nd birthday party.  He wore striped overalls, a train engineer's cap, and had a train birthday cake. Is there a recurring theme here?  This week, the family has gathered for a meal and to light the candles again.

We will keep celebrating as Joe turns 76  in a week or so.  If I could only remember the 40 things we wished him in 1977, I would come up with 36 more!  But I do think we will have a train cake!

Celebrate Life!

Bella's Back!

Over two months ago, my post on this blog mentioned that one of our cats had disappeared, without a trace.  She was an indoor cat, never wanted to go outside, and as the weeks went by, we could only hope that she she had found a new home. But one night about 2 weeks ago, I thought I saw a black and white cat that looked like her on our front porch.  As soon as I opened the door, however, the cat vanished into the night. A few days after that, the gray and white cat, Angel, was on our back porch and when I went to the door to let her in, there was Bella.  I was sure it was her, but she dashed to the side yard and hid.  After an hour or so of a reverse sort of "cat and mouse,"  Joe coaxed her inside where she promptly needed to assert her territory by hissing and spitting at Angel, who by now must have been completely confused.  We had several days of War of the Cats, but as you can see, they are now peacefully claiming their share of Joe's chair.  I guess we will never know where Bella was for the two months she was missing, but sometimes she looks at me with those big golden eyes and I think for just a moment she is going to tell me!

July 4, 2013

Many years ago we had a 78 rpm recording by Senator Everett Dirksen titled Gallant Men which we enjoyed listening to with our small sons during patriotic holiday celebrations. The record won a Grammy award in 1968 for the Best Documentary Recording.  We lent the record and, most likely in one of our many moves, lost track of who had it.  There have been many 4ths of July, Memorial Days, and other commemorative occasions in the years since when Joe would remark or I would remember "that record, Gallant Men."  I was pleased to find the recording on YouTube this year.  Among several selections, this one is chosen for its audio quality, not to plug Capitol records. Senator Dirksen's deep gravely voice and sincerity still touch me as do the words.  It would be easy to become discouraged at the polarity and disagreements in our nation today, but we can still be most grateful for living in a country with freedom, and for the people now and through the years who give their lives in service to all of us.

When all is said and done, the real citadel of strength of any community is in the hearts and minds and desires of those who dwell there.
Everett Dirksen 

Texas Summer

Summer on the Texas Gulf Coast does not wait for the calendar to mark the solstice.  By late May and early June, we experience burning heat, sprinklers on the lawn,  homegrown tomatoes and hot peppers, katydids singing in the evenings, Crepe Myrtles and Chaste Trees blooming, suppers from the grill, iced tea, cold watermelon, bees buzzing around the basil.  The Touch Me Not seeds are popping, Morning Glories are purple delights, roses slowing down for a second breath, and there are a hundred shades of green. I may complain about being hot, but I love so many things that summer brings.

For Memorial  and Independence Day celebrations, we get the little flags back out to line the sidewalk, and celebrate  birthdays for Joe and Ben.  July brings a bumper crop of figs on our tree,  Vacation Bible School fun, plans with my granddaughters, and family outings.  It will get hotter, and we will watch the hurricane tracking news. We keep ceiling fans whirring and add a buzz fan or two for the back porch. I am thankful for cool evening breezes wafting scent of honeysuckle and cooling the flagstone paths in our garden.

 Summertime!

"Now summer is in flower and natures hum 
Is never silent round her sultry bloom 
Insects as small as dust are never done 
Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun 
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee 

Are never weary of their melody
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers
Agape for dew falls and for honey showers
These round each bush in sweet disorder run
And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun."

- John Clare, "June"

Stained Glass

We have several pieces of stained glass hanging in the windows of our home. This is my favorite, because Joe made it many years ago.  I love the way light brings the designs in leaded glass to life, changing as the day progresses and light falls in different places.  I, love the glowing colors and flowing designs.  After many years of absence from the art of cutting glass, fitting lead or copper around sharp edges, and soldering pieces together in a beautiful puzzle assembly, Joe has decided to take up his soldering iron and work again.  I am looking forward to the pieces he will choose to create.  But most of all I look forward to the joy it brings him, the artist!

Nana's Doll

Nana's Doll           

When she was a little girl

 my mother was proud

of a doll whose smooth porcelain face

shone pinkly beneath her chestnut curls

twinkling blue eyes that went to sleep

 when Opal laid her down

Dressed in rosy dimity

dainty with a fine lace peplum

her bonnet matched

Modesty satisfied, her sheer skirt

 hid crochet- edged petticoats and pantaloons

Tiny socks and shoes, a precious

embroidered velvet pouch

on a chain to hang on her wrist.

When I was a little girl

the doll lay in what was left of her box

wrapped in an old white sheet

stored in Mother's quilt chest

I begged to see her, fascinated

 by her age and her outfits

oh, so many!

 handmade by Grandma Terrell

and Great Grandmother Curley,

my French great grandmother.

full length coat with buttons

made of blue twill and paneled -

soft pink rose patterned percale.

folded in neat stacks: print dresses, tucked bodices,

 gathered skirts, nightgowns, a cap and a blanket

all discolored by age and smoke

 from a family house fire.

Why didn't I ask her name?

When my granddaughters ask

to see the doll, they are intrigued

 with the story, awed

at how old she is

They feel sorry that she lives in a box

I am glad no one asks her name

but I am trying to follow instructions

written in flowing pencil script

on the tattered piece from her first box:

“Take Care of Her”     Santa Claus

  ~ Mary Ann Parker, written March 2013

Ladies Day at the Spa

When any one of my granddaughters is here, we have fun. But when all 3 of the younger girls get together, there is never a dull moment.  I may leave a few prompts or props for them to find (new stuff in the dressup trunk, empty boxes, beads and shells with the art supplies, and plenty of fresh fruit and veggies for creating snacks), but the ways they come up with to use those things never fail to keep me laughing.

Last weekend we were grateful for heavy afternoon rains on both days.  But climbing trees and dancing in the rain changed to indoor play when thunder and lightning deemed it necessary.  Undaunted, they retired to the bedroom where the dressup supplies are kept.  A few minutes later, when I checked on them, I found Skye with her turban wrap reclining on the chaise lounge and was told they were having a Spa day!  Furthermore, they needed cucumber slices for their eyes.  What's a grandmother to do but slice up a garden fresh cucumber and deliver?

, 

Maddie and Jordann added their veggie beauty aid and lounged on a mountain of pillows.

But apparently the under 10 set does not require lengthy lounging.  In fact, it makes them hungry!

So they ate their cucumbers, which probably beat anything else for a refreshing treatment!

I love being a grandmother! Who needs a day at a real Spa?  I don't need cucumbers to make me glow!

Tea Parties

This tiny china tea set has been mine since I was a little girl. I don't remember when I got it,but  most likely it was a birthday gift or a Christmas present. My granddaughters have loved using the tea set for birthday tea,  princess tea, and tea parties for no special reason at all other than our delight in each other. Lauren  wrote invitations to the little girls next door and we set Grandma's table with a cloth, made tea sandwiches and cookies and poured tea out of a teapot.  Skye has had countless tea parties with me, her PapaJoe, her Duckle Ben, and her best friend Anna.  Maddie has tea parties when she comes to stay, and Jordann has tea parties with her sister and cousin now.  I was proud that Maddie wanted her 7th birthday party to be a family tea party!   (See post for March 21)

One Cat

This is our cat Angel, who loves to pick a pretty spot and pose.  We have had other cats like that. Once we had a Persian cat who loved to pose on our only Turkish rug. Another cat preferred to curl up in an antique wash bowl with a turquoise rim that matched his eyes.

A few weeks ago, Angel's playmate, our cat Bella, disappeared - we looked and looked but there is no trace of her.  We miss her but for now, Angel is our one cat, and I think she likes it that way.  Goodbye, Bella.  If Angel knows where you went, she is not telling.

Legacy

The roses covering this arbor are Peggy Martin Roses, also called the Katrina Rose, because this rose was the only one of hundreds owned by Peggy Martin and her husband before the flooding and destruction caused by Hurricane Katrina.  Surviving after being submerged under 20 feet of salt water, this plant endured.  It reminds me of the quality of endurance I consider my legacy exhibited in my great grandmother's story.


    I have included stories about my great grandmother, Ernestine Curley, in past blog posts, but recently wrote this poem.  I believe her legacy of  deep faith, strength, perserverance, and fortitude showed in both my grandmother and mother.  I am thankful for them all.


 Legacy of Endurance

Clara and Bienvenue Paschal Augier boarded a ship in the south of France

Sailed with their children to the port of New Orleans,

 Charles, Josephine Antoinette and little Ernestine Matilde

who began to speak English when she was three

Her mama never learned

Her papa was a saddle maker

trapped in a burning building

he jumped to his death

then the family moved -

 Old Finn Castle, Henderson County in Texas

Ernestine went to school

with a handsome boy named Matthew

October 30, 1872 they were married.

Six children were born

William, Charles, Ozark and Osro who were twins

Othinet Josephine they called Jessie,

Matthew Ann

this youngest a baby girl with a boy's name

December 1979, Matthew, shot

while on a hunting trip by his best friend,

never saw his youngest.

His dying request was that the baby

Ernestine carried be given his name,

and, if born a girl, to be given to

his sister Victoria.

Young, widowed, with

6 little children

Ernestine married again

a man rumored to have been

a fugitive from justice

Three more babies conceived

When James Curley died

six years later, once more

Ernestine again buried her husband

 while preparing to birth another child.

Two husbands, neither of whom lived

to see their last child born.

She moved the the

five living children from her first marriage

and three children of second, pregnant again,

to her sister's home.

She knew about endurance.

While these battles happened in her life,

she witnessed  traumas of her adopted country:

 the Civil War,

 Reconstruction

the Spanish American War

World War I

Hitler's invasion of Europe

Ernestine's strength and goodness shone

One son said she was the best woman

he ever knew

With so many children, there were

many grandchildren.

She was present at the birth of every one.

Bringing hand stitched caps and blankets.

When Ernestine could no longer live alone,

she moved in with her youngest daughter, Clyde

She knelt at her prie dieu everyday

Treasured a tiny holy water font

She patched and mended pants, shirts, and socks

turning collars and darning heels

Her tiny stitches could hardly be seen.

She taught her granddaughter Opal to say

Yes Ma'am and No Sir

She rocked her great granddaughter Mary Ann.

Tribute

The year 2006 was a year of both great loss and great gain for me.  My mother died in September of that year, which is a loss I am still acutely aware of.  But in the months before her death, even as I helped to care for her and ease her transition from this life to the next, I received two immensely important gifts, gifts of sight. Only a few months earlier I was diagnosed with a degenrative corneal disease which quickly robbed me of a great deal of my functional vison.  I had Fuch's Corneal Dystrophy, for which there is no treatment or cure.  The only option was to have my own corneas removed and replaced with corneas from a donor:  cornea transplants.  This week marks the 7th anniversary of my first gift.  On May 15, 2006, I had surgery to receive my first cornea, in my left eye.  Two months later, in July, I had the same surgery for my right eye. I am eternally grateful to the families whose choices made that possible for me, and I urge all who hear my story to consider electing organ donation and making that known to your family.

The very first realization I had that my surgery had indeed been successful came as I sat in the shade by the little fish pond in our garden. All landscape had been blurry for long enough that what happened was quite like pointing my camera lens, zooming, and focusing.  I suddenly became amazed that I was seeing with brilliant clarity, and the object was a small purple iris a few feet away.  I was and am so thankful to see. In tribute to my donors and to all who are challenged with impaired vision, I am sharing some more garden photographs with you.  These flowers grow in the gardens at Antique Rose Emporium near Brenham, TX.

        

Magnolias

When the Magnolias bloom again each year, I reach to pull a creamy cup down and inhale its sweetness. I may cut a few to bring inside and float in bowls, but they brown and wither soon.  They show off best in their  boughs of waxy green leaves.  They remind me of the trees that lined the edge of my elementary school yard, which happened to be adjacent to my own yard.  We often played in the shade of the trees, loving the spectacle of their blooms.  When the petals dropped, leaving cones with scarlet seeds, we played with those, creating, imagining, giggling.

In 1963, a bank of magnolia leaves was the only floral decoration at our December wedding. Many years and many places later, I stood by a Magnolia tree in the gardens of a sultan's palace in Bogor, Indonesia, and wondered if its twisted trunk and sprawling branches flowered.  Now, once again, my yard fills with the fragrance of Magnolias in Spring.  They seem to grow sweeter each year.

Our Garden

April showers might have brought May flowers, but so far May is bringing record setting low temperatures. Here on the Gulf Coast of Texas, by this time we are usually working to keep cool instead of wrapping up to stay warm.  Yesterday another cold front literallty blew in.  Wind gusts took my patio umbrella up and away, and tree branches have been whipping so hard the new leaves are hanging on for dear life.  I put on my coat and did a quick walkabout to check for garden damage, and am pleased to say it is slight.  Here is a photo walk through!

As in the photo of above, our antique roses are thriving in the cooler temperature. The colors are intense.

             Petunias, not to be outdone by the roses, but they will never muster that kind of fragrance!

      Tuscan Kale and Swiss Chard - ornamental, but also edible. Organic gardeners, we can eat our        borders!  We already have tomatoes on the vines, and a big bed of hot peppers.

       These flowers make a tasty addition to salads.  Nasturtiums, a favorite in my herb garden.

Daylilies hold up their reputation of blooming in spite of temperature - but usually that is a reference to hot!

This amaryllis has had more blooms this year than anytime since I planted it.  

Look at the blooms on this Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow bush my friend Debbie gave to me.

Sweet little nosegays of Forget-Me-Nots

This pot of geraniums on the porch makes me smile.

There are tiny Meyer lemons, the Satsuma is blooming, and the fig tree bravely sports baby figs!

Post a comment and tell me what is greening and growing in your garden!   

Greening Continued

A new coat of paint can do wonders for old stuff.  Our outdoor furniture was way beyond shabby chic.  Nearly 20 years of Texas sun and wind had almost stripped it of any orginal finish.  It was clear something needed to be done if we were going to be able to keep using it for outdoor dining and sitting.  Several cans of spray paint gave it renewed approval from everyone.  In the process, I wore a good deal of the paint myself!  On one trip to get more paint, I remembered on the way in that I had forgotten to write the name of the paint down.  By this time all I could remember was the paint I had used on the porch swing a week earlier.  The mission was accomplished when I proudly held up my arm and pointed to the splotch of green there.  Spruce Green, that was it!  Sometimes being messy is not a bad thing.

before

                                                                             after

Now all we need to do is pour some lemonade and enjoy our "new" furniture.  By the way, the paint did wear off - no one has asked me about my green feet in days.

Nana's Recipe for Chewy Crisps

No, I didn't mix up the posts for my blogs.  Although this might seem to have been intended for  Kitchen Keepers, my cooking and recipe blog, it is posted here intentionally.  Today, just like most other people, I print out recipes from websites, or save them to my documents file for use at a later date.  I do still prop up a cookbook (I have many more than I have shelves to store them) or lay a printed recipe nearby when I am cooking.  I like being able to use my mini Ipad to bring up a recipe I know I have already posted.  That is very convenient, and portable!  But my most cherished recipe collection is handwritten, like the one above.  Chewy Crisps were peanut butter treats my mother, Opal Terrell Teal, made in our kitchen on Sunset Street in Jacksonville, Texas when I was growing up. I could enter it in my computer and print it out (and may very well do that for other reasons) but I thrill at being able to hold it in my hand, trace Mother's lovely, even, measured handwriting, and cook from her "book."  This recipe has a checkered ribbon threaded at the top since I use it, along with a few others, every year on a small kitchen Christmas tree where it hangs along with Mother's cookie cutters, the first ones I ever used.  I cherish other recipes written down by my Grandmother, or my mother's best friend Gertrude, our neighbor Mrs. Adams, even one from Mrs. Fay Martin who was mother's friend when they lived in New Orleans over 70 years ago. Recipes on the back of my 4th grade spelling test, an  envelop, a paper napkin.   I have some in my own handwriting, a collection of family recipes made as a third grade art project, complete with a fabric cover edged in blanket stitiches.

Next time you are asked for a recipe, why not write it down with your own pen?  Someday, there may be someone else who collects more than cookbooks and cooks with a heart beyond the cooking channels on TV!

Leaf Rise

Two summers ago when Joe was recovering from a knee surgery and our back porch was torn up for some repairs, I gave him a porch swing for his birthday.  I thought to hang it on our small front porch so that he would have a place to sit outside in the mornings. Problem 1:  I ordered a lovely oak swing online which was delivered free of shipping charges, unassembled.  So , it languished in its box until long after the back porch was back in service. Problem 2:  Several surgeries later, almost a year to be honest, I had the swing assembled and hung, with plans to paint it soon. In its unfinished state, the wood soon began to look like it had been drying in hot Texas sun and molding in the humidity (as it had).  I occasionally sat with my granddaughters  to swing, but knew it had to be painted.

So, this week was a swing week!  I shopped for paint. Confession:  The deciding factor for any paint choice is the name of its color.  Makes sense to me.  This lovely shade of green is called Leaf Rise.  Very appropriate I think.  I masked the chain and hardware, spread cardboard underneath, gave it a good scrubdown with vinegar and water, and let it dry in the first sunshine we had in several days.  Then I sprayed Leaf Rise on every nook and cranny.  And did it again.  The best admiration of all that work will be swinging and enjoying the sunrise in the mornings.

I grew up in a house with a front porch swing.  We spent many happy times in that swing. There were rose bushes at one end of the porch and cape jasmine at the other end. Don't you think I need to add some fragrance to this scene?  That will be my next project.

Eggs and Easter

Dozens of suggestions for decorating eggs, complete with pictures and directions, are offered during the weeks before Easter.  I am glad my granddaughter agreed with me that the old fashioned water, vinegar, and food coloring in a cup method is still the best.  Skye spent Good Friday with me, so we added egg coloring to our time in the kitchen. She enjoyed doing all the mixing and color concoction and so did I.

Every cup held magic and every egg was unique. Even the vinegar smell shouted "Easter!"
We boiled extra eggs to have plenty for deviling.

I am pretty sure we will be having other egg dishes too: maybe egg salad, spinach salad with boiled egg slices.

                                               Perfect!  (Tiny cracks don't spoil the pleasure.)

                                                All sizes welcome!  Beautiful.