Showing posts with label ancestors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ancestors. Show all posts

10/21/12

Easter blizzard of 1873

In the spring of 1871 we sold our spare horses and other belongings; and loaded a Car for
Lincoln Nebraska ----
Page 10

{In the summer our Son Christian was born but died a few month later} here at Lincoln I worked my two teams, excavating cellars and hauling freight, from  [   ] City and other places:,,  In the fall of 1872., I drove my Mule team, to The Republican Valley; where I homesteaded my farm in Section 35 – town 3 –Rang[r] 20 west 6th Principal Meridian -- -- -- during the colder weather, I drove back to Lincoln, and in The spring, took my wife and Baby’s along and arrived on our homestead, on the 12th day April 1873. -- -- On the 13th day of April, just after unloading our belongings, a most fearfull rain and snowstorm set in; which lasted over Three days; and we had neither food nor shelter for our poor teams – and fed them the husk out of our strawticks;,,  We ourselves found a little protection, in an open Log [shant] without any roof on the same:” -- -- What your dear Mother, and Myself suffered, to keep our little Baby’s warm and dry, you can not imagine – and my pen is too poor, to describe the same!! -- -- -- -- -- Our horses and mules, broke loose from cold and hunger, the second night – and it was on the, 3rd day after the storm, that I Tracked

Page 11

Them to the mouth of the Sappa:”-- -- Soon after this, I found a couple of homesteaders, hired them to help, put up our first Log Cabin in which our daughter Elizabeth was born July 25th 1873. -- -- Now we went to work with a good free will; digging a well, putting up a shed for the teams, breaking a little of the Prairie sod, and put in a few acre of Corn, and the rest of the time, I used the Armstrong machine; and put up as much Prairie hay as possible. – Of course our harvest didn’t amount to much; for we planted so little – but the pesky Grasshoppers, came along, anyhow; -- and looked over the location; so as to be able to find it the following Year:” -- -- --
The next year, we broke out about 15 Acres and would have had a nice bit of Corn; but The hoppers Came, and saved me the trouble of husking it:,, -- -- -- -- Then came the Year 1875. and with it our Son Adolph, on April 21st. -- -- -- Now we had on hand five hungry little ones ==  a   part   of   our   happy   lives!! But they had to be fed, and Clothed; and the measly hoppers took ever thing,
That we Expected to harvest:,,
Page 12

So There were many heartaches, of what to do in The future!!:”  We kept on a planting and sowing; but even The Uear 1876; our entire crops were distroyed[sic], when we almost had a big Corn Crop in our reach == at times we were much discouraged; but Yet we held on and struggled for our little Band:,, -- -- --
The Year 1877. was a blessed one for all of us, besides an abundant Corn and Wheat Crop;; we harvested a bouncing Baby girl, for on May 2nd our Cathariene was born, -- to help us, to chase the hoppers = but she came to late; for the Bugs must have got scared and They never bothered us afterwards! -- -- --

From now on, Time passed somewhat easier for The Children grew up like Sunflowers; and were soon able to help a little here and there; {In the Year 1879, our daughter Maggie was born but died a few mont later;,,} 

{The Year 1881 brought us our Son Henry who also died when but a few month old:}
     So time passed with Sorrow – Grief --; and happiness; for all of us:,, -- -- -- Excepting The Year 1880, we raised fair to good Crops, and with The Childrens help; we got along pretty well:,, but yet we needed
Page 13

Help, for if one on the top of the list got married; it was nessessary [sic], that another took her place == == == == == So on The 11th day of October 1882. our Son Nicolai was born; and promised to take The burden off The old mans shoulders = but that still left your Mother, to carry her big and heavy load: -- -- -- -- -- Therefore kind providence was with us; and on The 15th day of August 1884 our daughter Dorothy was born;,, --

This made it an even dozen; That the good Lord had given to us;,, and as we now look back over the past; we must say:,, Father in Heaven we Thank Thee:, Amen!!
In the Year 1885, we sold off, our stock on hand; for I was too sickly; to do the farm work any longer – we rented a house in Orleans, where we lived until The fall 1889, when we moved to our farm 12 ½ miles west of Orleans; and which I had prepared while living in The City. -- -- -- During our residence in Orleans of four years;,, I worked in a store – and one winter I taught German, to a Class of Eleven;, all grown Men & women. ==
Page 14

While here I was thrown down, on my sick bed, for a couple of month, suffering from Neuralgia of The heart, and at the same time of Erysipelas over the whole head:’- What I suffered, when near death door; nobody Knows but me – and  The  almighty  father  in  Heaven

From The fall of 1889 untill the spring of 1910, we lived on our farm, west of town; then we moved into one of our houses; which we had built in 1909. and where we now live happy and contended[sic]== spending our old age, in peacefull retirement, and will not go forth, to any other home, until The good Lord says;,, Come!! -- --
Now in conclusion, of This short;; and Yet long life == of your old parents == let me say to you, our dear Children; That at all times, we never looked for trouble in The future!!  We always took the bright side, of happenings, as They came to us; and were always trying to face The Sun:  So That we could’nt[sic] see any shadow!= And to you each and every one we would say:
Always  try  and  face  the  Sun!!
Page 15

Don’t hunt for trouble!
But look for success –-
You will find what you look for –-
Don’t look for distress -- --
If you see but your shadow
Remember I pray
That The sun is still shining –
But you are in the way. –
Don’t grumble, don’t bluster
Don’t dream and don’t shirk –
Don’t Think of your worries;,,
But Think of your work;” –
The worries, wil vanish –
The work will be done -- -- --
For no one, sees his shadow –
Who faces the Sun !!!—
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Yours with Eternal Love;,, your
Mother and Father
Dorothy and August Sasse

October 15, 1911.
Orleans Harlan County
Nebr
 © 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

Penmanship at 74 years of age

Every few years I pull out the letter from great-great grandfather Sasse and find a source of inspiration and amazement. Today I am just in awe of his penmanship at age seventy-four. He was writing on lined paper.  He must have used a fountain pen in 1911, not quill and ink! His letter must have been a "final copy", as there are no indications of editing or corrections.


With a comfortable pen I can write for a few hours, but my penmanship is inconsistent in style and legibility.  I blame this on my tremor, which is inherited from the other side of my family.

Now that I've finished the transcription, I'm excited to post the rest of it!


© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

28th Regiment Illinois Volunteers


On August 1st 1861.  I enlisted in Camp Butte near Springfield Illinois in Company:,, Co:”  28th Regiment Illinois Volunteers infantry:,, I served in the 3d Brigade 4 Division 13th Army Corps -- -- Army of the Tennessee. -- -- [  ] part of my time, we were attached to the 16th Army Corps; not having enough men left in our own Ranks; to keep our own Corps Complete. I was honorably discharged on September 10th 1864.  at Springfield Illinois, after having served my time of enlistment, of three years and month!!!  -- -- --- -- --- ---
What shall I say of all the bloody fights and skirmishes? – or the more important Battles;,, such as Fort Henry & Heiman.—Shiloh or Pittsburg Landing – Corinth Miss:  Matamoras – Hollys [farm] Black River – Grand Gulf; -- or yet the more bloody ones of: Vicksburg – and Jackson Mississippi
             
Page 8.  National Park Service Regiment information link. Confirmation of August Sasse, private in regiment link. 

With the thought of all these slaughtering days it makes me shudder even now; and I wish they had not been:!’ -- -- -- -- --

Counting the skirmishes, and all other small affairs:,, where blood flowed freely:,, I have taken part in 28 fights or Battles – in fact from Cairo Illinois or Birds Point Mo.”
To Pittsburg Landing.  Then the Siege on Corinth Miss; where we had a fight every day –and every night dug trenches – to protect ourselves; the following day- from the rebel hordes; and that on from the [7]th day of April, until the following 30th day of May; when the Rebels evacuated the City;, after setting fire to all their Commissary stores, and forage, which they could not take away with Them! – and when we marched in; The whole City was indeed a glare of fire brands in all directions!!- from here we were on many weary marches, Through the interior of The States of Kentucky = Tennessee – Mississippi – and Louisiana:”—On These long marches, we had many little [straches] near Bolivar Lagrange – Collierville and Hollysprings:,, -- -- -- -- --
As before stated, I was discharged in September 1864 at Springfield Illinois –
Page 9

from there I went for a short visit to my old Camping ground; Havana Illinois – then went on a trip across the Ocean to my old Birthplace and found my dear old Mother alive and well!! – In my stay there that winter, -- I saw – admired – and loved your dear old mother;,, in The Lutheran Church at Bramsche = Your Mothers Birthplace;; in The presence of your Aunts:,, Elizabeth [ hland] – Anna Mundt – Hermione Kreiling – Caroline Rentsch – and your Uncle C. J. W. Sasse and many other relatives of your mother. ==

On the 20th day of February 1865, your dear old Mother and Myself, bid farewell to our beloved ones: and one month later, arrived at Havana Ills: where we rented a farm, and went to housekeeping.  In this part we rented and farmed for 7 Years in which time four Children were born to us:”—Caroliene September 26th 1865. Anna [Novor] = 1867 who died when 10 months of age:,,  Minnie Febr 18th 1869 – August, October 15th 1870 -- --


© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

10/19/12

Ox team mired in mud



You bet I earned them, and lots of other stuff beside for I had then learned already, how to get my Clothing free:,, -- The third year I hired at $120 and a free horse to ride, every other Sunday;;,, which was my day off – to see the girls of course, [illegible] had no other ones to see!! – Yes I forgot – 10 Times a year a Preacher would come in our settlement – which is called to this day:,, Long [Pond?} or [ ]uiver settlement;, and such a day would be a big Jubilee; when old and young would turn out, on foot or with the [  ]wagen, to see the great and holy men.,, -- By this time I was well initiated in the farm work, and always willing to do my share; -- I hired to Wm Bruning, for the nice sum of $240.00/100 a year; besides all the Overalls and workshirts I needed, and washing and mending of Clothing Thrown in, besides two horses and a second hand lumber wagon, were at my command: at any time on Sunday – If I wanted to take my best girl to Lumberwagon riding; “ on moonlight nights These several years, I would be at the Creek or a rich Cornfield, with my shot gun;,, to Kill Duck Geese - - or any other game, that came in my way and There was a great abundance of all kinds,
     Especially Ducks -- -- Geese & Cranes –

The meat I gave to the farmers, for the shot and powder I needed – and the feathers and skins, I saved up, until the end of the season, and sold them for a nice little pile of Cash. -- -- --
After these years of hard knocks, and making a little money besides ; -- I rented 40 acres of fine land. – boarded with a friend at $2.00/100 per week – bought a Yoke of Oxen, and went to farming on my own hook; I helped around in The neighborhood for 50 Cent a day, and boarding myself – That Year I had a good Crop, and made some money;,, -- so I traded my Oxen for an old mare, and bought a filley to work with her –rented a 120 acre farm about one half very sandy, and the other good, but low bottom -- -- so the high water took everything; and This brought me back, to the Year before; besides being in debt, for about one half years board money. -- -- The next year I went to Prairie breaking --- traded my horses for two yoke of Cattle – and that year I made enough money to pay my debt; and had $175.00/100 to the good -- -- Now I felt encouraged – bought 80 acres of bottom land – paid $200.00—down, and the balance in two years. -- -- --- --- I worked here – There – Everywhere – at good wages. ---
  
Of my own land I broke about 30 acres, planted the same in Corn, and harvested a [illegible]  The next year I broke some more of the corn land, and served Timothy, on the [   ] years everything.  The spring showed up very nice, and my Corn showed up very fine – Then a very rainy time set in – and I lost everything!! ---- Even one of my Ox teams, mired in the mud, and perished after night -- -- Now I sold off everything that I had left – so as to get enough money together to pay for my Land; and get my Deed! –

Yes; Prunes! – When I offered the money; I found the man had no tittle [sic] to the land himself and I had to loose my $200.00/100 besides some interest I had paid:,, -- -- -- -- - -

Now I took my money and bought me another span of horses; rented better and higher land – and till the War broke out; I had accumulated a nice sum of money ; and about 1500 bushels of Corn in The Crip, on the place where I boarded:, We had now gotten to the Year 1861 -- -- the Year of the Rebellion had  broken out!!  -- -- --- -- I studied every [     ] of Newspaper, That I could get hold of: ,, listend to the many speeches, of The great men, Especially to our afterwards beloved Abraham Lincoln and Stephen [ ] Douglas  The best speakers of them days;,, and many others: ,,  What I didn’t understand, I talked over, with my dear old friends;,, in Bruning – Westing – Walker – [ eikirk]. – Yes, and a number of others; whose memory will not be forgotten; for they were all dear to me; and had always treated me as one of Their Son’s:” -- -- -- --


© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

10/17/12

A great-great-grand procrastination


Ah, there are so many things I should be doing, all unappealing.  Since my visit with the Woolly Mammoth and his delightful friendgirl to Ellis Island in August, I've been wanting to make a transcript of a letter from my great-great-grandfather, August Sasse, (pronounced sassy so far as I know).  And I'm a tad tired of sassy, smart-alecky children, but you don't want to know!  I'm transcribing from a Photostat copy of August Sasse’s handwritten letter, and his penmanship is lovely.  I have tried to stay faithful to his punctuation and capitalization which are quite different from modern forms.  I hope to learn the typing of German diacritic marks, but bear with me.


Page 1

A short Biography of Mr & Mrs August Sasse so that our Children may have some idea; who Their parents are; and Country They came from, and it may possibly be an Ointment on Their Troubled Thoughts -- and a pleasant memory; in many years after we have gone  -- to our last resting place — Heaven:,, our new  home –:,, for we are positive that our lives have been such — That we are Entitled to a seat, with our dear Savior: — Your Mother Mrs Dorothy Sasse (nee.) Dorothea Margaret AufdenBrink was born May 31st 1840 in Bramsche (now) Province  of Hanover Germany; a small town of about 1500 inhabitants;,, her parents were in the Merchandize and Grain Business;,,  After she went through her Schools; and confirmed in The Evangelical Lutheran Church, at the age of 14 Years—she was a pupil in The College at OsnabrÜck;, for the Completion of her studies; such as Needlework — Knitting — housekeeping - and especially Cooking for The higher Classes: -and she made such headway, That in Two years Time, she was granted a Diploma, in all her studies. - after This she staid home for one year when she took a position , at Mr Schroeders —
  
Page 2

a Wine Merchant and Senator in the City of [ ]uakenbrÜck, located some 12 miles from her own home — here she was employed for seven years spending her time for six month every year in Amsterdam Holland — where the Schroeder family went every winter – to spend a part of their large income, and for the more interesting amusements to be had:,, -- It was at This Time, in the spring of 1865 when she married — of which will be shown  [illegible] — as I take up the short and unimportant Story of my own life:,, -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- ---- -
I August Sasse was born in the City of [ ]uakenbrÜck (now) Province of Hanover Germany, on the 20th day of August 1837. – My father was a discharged Soldier, of BlÜchers Army; who fought and defeated The great Napoleon, at the Battle of Waterloo; -- -- At the Time of his marriage to my mother, he was the Regimental Shoe or rather Bootmaker, for the division he had served in;,, my mother took a course of Midwifery, in The City of Osnabrück;, and [plied] that Business in her home in [Q]uakenbrück, until she Came to America, and died in 1876 in the City of Chicago Illinois;”—My Schooldays to The age of 14 – were many, and at times very short ones – for in between the Schoolhours; I had to work in a [Pr]inters Office –- stripping tobacco – running –


Page 3

Errands over the whole City, for the high mucky mucks; at The Enormous price of Three Cents per day. Or 15 cents if Engaged by the work:,,  At Times when out of Employment; I went and helped Theatrical Company’s, in the near by towns ; taking part in some of Their plays, and getting besides my living Expenses Nine Cents per day – Then I felt all The glory, of being rich – and my mother shed tears of joy ; when I came home, and gave her my savings.:” -- -- -- In These last [two OR five] years, from 12 to 14, I had learned The Cigar Trade; and was then able to earn from 1 ½ to 2 ½ [bollars] (German Thaler) every week. -- --In the spring of 1853, I came to New Orleans America, and landed in near Havana Mason County Illinois:,, I hired to a farmer for 20.00/100 a year with The privilege of going to the District School the following winter, to learn the English language:” – Well, I went 30 whole days  but never learned what the teacher talked to me about. -- -- but all the same, I had lots of fun, with the nice young girls – some of Them I remember at this late day;,, such as Bess – Ida – Lizzie –Martha and Jane: -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
The next year I hired for $70.00/100 and a pair of blue Overalls, if I would help to milk 4 Cows?


© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

9/12/12

Little Ms. Muffet finds gregarious, tufted caterpillars

So, just what is a tussock?  My grandma had a hassock. She put her feet up to relieve her bursitis. I'm relieved to find an ID for the fabulous caterpillars I spotted on my walk after work.


Thanks to the Discover Life page at the University of Georgia, I was able to eliminate several possible suspects. I also found an interesting blog, Living With Insects to follow.

Euchaetes egle (Drury, 1773)
MILKWEED TUSSOCK MOTH
Milkweed Tiger Moth; Milkweed Caterpillar

So, tell me again, what is a tussock?
tus·sock  (tsk) n.
1. A clump or tuft, as of growing grass.
2. A tuft of hair or feathers.


Ms. Muffet had a tuffet. Is that like a tussock, or like a hassack?  Is it a grassy hillock or knoll?

Grandma never called the hassock an ottoman.  I'm sure Miss Muffet never sat on Grandma's hassock. Time for a check with Wikipedia:

A tuffet, pouffe or hassock is a piece of furniture used as a footstool or low seat.[1] It is distinguished from a stool by being completely covered in cloth so that no legs are visible. It is essentially a large hard cushion that may have an internal wooden frame to give it more rigidity. Wooden feet may be added to the base to give it stability, at which point it becomes a stool or a footstool. If the piece is larger, with storage space inside it, then it is generally known as an ottoman.[2]dral Hassock has special association with churches, as it is used to describe the thick cushions employed by the congregation to kneel on while in prayer. [3]






has·sock

 noun \ˈha-sÉ™k\

Definition of HASSOCK

1
2
a : a cushion for kneeling hassock

b : a padded cushion or low stool that serves as a seat or leg rest




I attended pay-what-you-can-night of "Second City Does Dallas" at the Wyly Theatre Center.  Improv doesn't do much for me, what with the anxiety of knowing audience members could be escorted up on stage at any moment to be embarrassed.  I would rather a spider sat down beside her!  The stranger sitting next to me was picked for a stage moment, poor dear, and had to sing some song about balls.  Second City did a long skit about the JFK assassination, something that will never be humorous in Dallas, and should not be elsewhere.  I'm not the only one with inflamed bursa* over that, as the Dallas Morning News critic Lawson Taitte made the same criticism when the show opened.

Not to be funny, but I have been wondering who invented the term "grassy knoll", a phrase that surely says Dallas.  Urban Dictionary calls the phrase, among other things, "a metaphor and a source of irony when referring to a suspicion, conspiracy, or a cover-up of some type."

Alas, I must go to work without solving the age-old question of why tuffet doesn't rhyme with buffet.
*Bursitis is the inflammation of one or more bursae (small sacs) of synovial fluid in the body. The bursae rest at the points where internal functionaries, such as muscles and tendons, slide across bone. Healthy bursae create a smooth, almost frictionless functional gliding surface making normal movement painless. When bursitis occurs, however, movement relying upon the inflamed bursa becomes difficult and painful. Moreover, movement of tendons and muscles over the inflamed bursa aggravates its inflammation, perpetuating the problem.





© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder

6/1/12

Decoration Day



MASTALIR

HALMA F.                  ADOLPH J..
1891-1981                                            1888-1938
January 25, 1891  Sac, IA               July 28, 1888 Verdigre, NE
December 11, 1981 Pierce, NE         October 5, 1938 Pierce, NE
                             George Burkhead and Clara Lee         Joseph Mastalir and Mary Novak

Last Sunday evening I was trying to find old photos of hanging lamp fixtures in Carnegie Libraries.  Don't ask why. Instead I tripped over this information about my grandparents from their gravestone at the Prospect View Cemetery in Pierce County, Nebraska.

Halma has been an incredible inspiration through my life as strong, smart, hard-working, creative, thrifty,  perfect mother-in-law, generous hostess and cook extraordinaire.  The legendary figure of Adolph has been held up to me in teaching stories of honor and principles, although it has been tough to get a sense of the man who was my grandfather.

My other grandparents are buried in Fort McPherson National Cemetery near Maxwell, NE.  Fred was a First Lieutenant in the U.S. Army in WWI. We shared an interest in polished rocks and western outlaws.

CLARK

FREDERICK WILLIAM CLARK  
1896-1977   
March 24, 1896  Stamford, NE  
November 7, 1977 McCook, NE

EFFA DALE GOSS CLARK
1894-1988 
October 7, 1894  - February 6, 1988
Daughter of Paul Goss 1869-1951 and Minnie Rachel Wehrman Goss 1872-1959

Although I knew my father's grandmother, Mary Novak, died shortly before my sister was born in 1959, I had never realized my mother's grandmother died the same year. My sister should be glad she was named Mary and not Minnie!

I never knew there were hobbyists known as gravers until I tripped over www.findagrave.com. Just for fun I searched for a few graves of western outlaws, Bob Dalton in Coffeyville, KS, Sam Bass in Red Rock,TX,  and Bill Doolin in Guthrie, OK. 

10/6/11

Bohemian Girl

Be the first on your block to read Terese Svoboda's Bohemian Girl.  It's short, poetic, picaresque, and packs a punch.  I've got so many reference points snapping back and forth on mental telegraph lines I must be building new brain cells.

How can writing be so epic and spare at the same time?  The story is an inch wide and a mile deep.

The word for today is "tableau":


Some years ago I became the custodian of a plush velvet album with photographs, bits of ribbons and black fabric, Czech newspaper clippings and handwritten letters.  The album had been a family hot potato, being mailed, handed off, or left on doorsteps like last year's fruitcake because none of us know the people in the album or speak Czech.  We are just sure the album might be important  to keep.  I'm guessing that the young woman in this photo might have been creating a tableau.   


tableau [tab‐loh] (plural ‐leaux or ‐leaus), a ‘picture’ formed by living persons caught in static attitudes. Tableaux were sometimes used at the ends of acts in 19th‐century melodrama and farce. The parlour‐game of tableaux vivants (‘living pictures’), in which living people adopt the postures of characters in a famous painting, was also a popular diversion in the 19th century, and is sometimes found in modern pageants. In a story or poem, a description of some group of people in more or less static postures is sometimes called a tableau.  



[Also, my dad is doing better, out of pain, eating like a bear, slipping out of bed, and nutty as can be.  Today he is saying, "G A N E L G E".  If you can figure that out, please comment!]



9/20/11

Skinny as a rail


I should be happy as a clam. Nearly all my field guides and bird checklists are strewn on top of an open atlas.  I am reference geek girl, and I have the cape to prove it. If only my big red dictionary could join the party!

Last Thursday after a truly restoring walk near the creek at MY nature preserve, I startled a critter in the trees.  Expecting a glimpse of a quickly departing cottontail, I was surprised to gradually focus on a long-necked and slender brown bird mincing around in the underbrush.  It held its funny, short yellow tail up as it walked like the handle on a gravy boat

My photos of the mysterious bird were miserably unenlightening. No amount of zooming in or fussing with the contrast could reveal the bird's ID.  Pouring over my field guides, the bird looked like a rail, Virginia or Clapper. Scrolling the bird checklists, any rail is an unlikely visitor.  I know my kildeer and plovers, and this isn't one.  A sora?  Maybe.  Not a woodcock, I think. It does not work for Mr. E. H. Harriman of the Union Pacific Railroad.  Butch and Sundance are not dynamiting his train car.

This is my grandma, Halma Fern Burkhead Mastalir.  Skinny, but not "as a rail".  She was not a bag of bones, as she had way too much spark.  She was so skinny she was nicknamed "Slats".

Do you think E. H. Harriman would get himself killed for you - Woodcock?" To get at the safe and its money, an explosive dynamite charge blows a large hole in the wall of the railroad car, injuring Woodcock. Concerned, Butch revives the bloodied agent on the floor of the car: "Woodcock, you alright? Hey! Whatever Harriman's payin' ya, it ain't enough. 


This may be a combination of "skinny as a rake" and "thin as a rail".

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder

2/7/11

Knit one purl one vote one poke one


From the drivers seat I couldn't tell if my sister was texting or knitting in the backseat.  We were bringing Dad to Texas in the rental SUV.  She texts faster than I ever did knit.  She knits because just sitting with Dad makes her crazy.  I sit slower than she ever will, but I understand the craziness of just quietly watching Dad go forward and back in his wheelchair.

Knitting needles with no yarn cast on are suspicious in airport security screenings.  My sister was sure to start a knitting project before carrying the knitting needles through TSA security.  This irks me, somehow.  Are women who knit less likely to be terrorists than the nonknitting old ladies TSA wands and xrays daily? 

My ex considered knitting a dangerous anti-marriage activity.  It irked him no end when I knit through his viewings of VHS videos with gratuitous sex and violence.  Knitting interferred with the worshipful and cuddly attention he was due, not that I'm a bitter former knitter.

As I've been reading about the early 1900's I imagine my great aunts, Ada and Emma, in some of the female roles.  They could have been daughters of immigrants working in Tiffany's Womens' Glass Studio, and probably would have loved the challenge.  Instead they taught school and made hats for women in northeast Nebraska.  I so wish I could ask Auntie Em about getting the vote, prohibition, and the vintage Valentines I found in the big black trunk.












© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder

2/3/11

Cedar brakes and drum solos

"We're gonna take a little break now, but we'll be right back," announces a member of the band. 

I'm on the Cedar Brake Loop Trail  at the Heard Natural Science Museum and Wildlife Sanctuary, a place where auditory amazement never goes back to the band bus for refreshments during the extended drum solos.  The smallest breeze keeps the branches of the cedars in constant percussive improv. It is Hansel and Gretel meet Mickey Hart. Standing still with eyes closed, I tried to imagine a night in the cedar brake, but it's too scary for a young thing like me.  It could be the set for a Washington Irving ghost story or Saint Saens' "Fossiles".

Wearing two sweatshirts on our third Snow Day it's hard to believe last Saturday families hiking at the Heard wore shorts, sleeveless tops, and sometimes flipflops.  It was over seventy degrees and absolutely perfect except that my camera battery was dead. 

A listening walk it must be.  Animatronic dinosaurs roared robotically to kid shrieks of joy.  Young parents bounced babies in strollers on the boardwalk trails.   Dried grasses rustled and crows dominated the airwaves with some sort of complaint always just beyond the next turn in the trail. 


What is a cedar brake?  It's not a cedar break.  Pulling out the old red dictionary I find definition fifteen for "brake"--An area overgrown with dense brushwood, briers, and undergrowth; a thicket.  (Related to "bracken" ferns, and "canebrake").

Unable to sort through the various cedar types and junipers, I recognize that the center of the Heard's cedar brake is a monoculture--nothing else grows there.  The ground under the trees is mostly mud.  Animals and birds seem scarce. 

Cedar choppers used to travel from brake to brake cutting down the rot-resistant trees for fence material, or converting it to charcoal.  My Snow Day googling has turned up Murray Montgomery's enlightening story of his cedar-chopping family roots. What a hard way to make a living.

Time for "The Other One", an 18:05 track.  There's time to reheat morning coffee in the microwave, stir in hot chocolate mix, and be back in time for "Me and My Uncle".

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder

10/23/10

Gratitude

Ada and Emma were young working women helping support their mother in Verdigre, Nebraska.  They taught school, sewed, and made hats.  They had beaus fighting the Germans in France in World War I.  They had a hope chest packed with many never-used linens and clothing items. 

I'm unpacking the hope chest and pondering the meanings.  I have Ada and Em's scrapbook albums and photo postcards of young men in uniform on motorcycles.  Other albums show photos of young women wearing fresh, simple, white outfits and eccentric hats.  I just don't have time to connect all the dots right now.


This lovely knit garment is Munsingwear size 4 with a dropseat for ease of use in outhouses.  Tonight I am grateful for indoor plumbing and Charmin. 

Entirely too much of my day teaching preschoolers involves their ability to flush and wash their hands.  Thank you, Lord, I don't have to worry about kids managing their dropseat undies or falling into the primitive Port-a-Potty!


© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder

10/19/10

Frills

Far too tired tonight for a major attack on the rearranging/unpacking dislocated interior decoration of my condo.  Instead I've been reading about the new dinosaur species identified by paleontologists in Utah.  It is named the Kosmoceratops.  And yes, it reminds me of Go, Dog, Go!  And now do you like my hat?


© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder

3/30/09

Masculine, feminine, and young

The preschoolers are learning about farm animal families. Horse families have stallions, mares, and colts, for example.

At the same time, my middle son has questions about his Bohemian ancestry. Our family is traced back to a person referred to as The Unknown Liska. "Liska," I told my son, means vixen. "Vixen" means foxy lady to males of a certain demographic. It took some effort to clarify that a female fox is called a vixen in the same way a female horse is called a mare. ... hen; ewe; cow; sow.

At least from 1970, "vixen" was slang for an attractive female that might do harm. Earlier and more traditional dictionary sources suggest quarrelsome, malicious, ill-tempered, and shrewish without the attractive connotation.

The Online Etymology Dictionary helped me understand that the "v" spelling used to be "f" until the late 1500s:
O.E. *fyxen (implied in adj. fyxan), fem. of fox (see fox, and cf. M.H.G. vühsinne, Ger. füchsin). Solitary English survival of the Germanic feminine suffix -en, -in (cf. O.E. gyden "goddess;" mynecen "nun," from munuc "monk;" wlyfen "she-wolf").

Thank heaven! Otherwise I would have to explain the Texas expression, "I'm fixin' to go get some sweet tea and chicken salad."

A male fox is sometimes called a dog-fox. Fox young are called pups, cubs, or kits by different sources. In Paul Galdone's version of Henny Penny, Foxy Loxy's family includes Mrs. Foxy Loxy and the little foxes in order to circumvent the entire vexing problem.





I'll have to read Patricia McKissacks wonderful book, Flossie & the Fox, to the children soon. F or V, M or F, "a fox be just a fox. That aine so scary."

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

3/25/09

Pickled Pigs' Feet

It's two a.m. Do you know where your toes are?

My toes are sending frequent updates and protests. They are unhappy. Their working conditions are poor. Their luxury bonuses are not making headlines. They don't care that this corporate executive needs to get some sleep.

My ancestors ate pickled pigs' feet. This gave me some heebie-jeebies as a child. It gives me greater concern now that my toes are so old and vociferous in the middle of the night. Each phalangial knuckle has an opinion. At two a.m. I am open to the idea of consigning the whole bunch of complaining toes to a crock of brine so I can get some sleep.

Like most teachers, I have explained to children that the Plains Indians used every part of the buffalo. Did the Sioux make pickled bison feet?

Dad says pickled pigs' feet were mostly gristle and fat with a little bit of meat. "A tasty oddity; better than head cheese or blood sausage," he remembers.


© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

12/10/08

Put the candle back!

IN a hectic week the search for plastic bottle lids may seem somewhat minor, but it was huge. My students are making crazy colored snowpersons for holiday gifts. I saved lids all year, but we were running short. Like any nutty art teacher, I did my grocery shopping list based on the recyclables I needed for class:
  1. Buy juice
  2. Pour juice into pitcher
  3. Wash lid
  4. Recycle bottle
  5. Take lid to art class

Time was running short, so I went through the condiments in the refrigerator. Poured the lime juice into a glass Ragu jar just to get the green lid. Same with the salad dressing. What year was this tartar sauce made? Ewww! Throw that scary stuff out, but save the lid.

On to the pantry cupboard. Two jars of parsley flakes! Bonanza! Combine them to score a large yellow lid. How long has that bottle of Karo corn syrup been stuck to the shelf paper? You don't want to know how many years it's been since I made peanut brittle.

Now it's slash and burn through the top shelf of souvenir squeeze bottles. I didn't know I had this stuff. Back behind the Tupperware popsicle molds (my youngest child is twenty-one, for heaven's sake!)... Look! It's Grandma's candleholder!

I was doing a double-take. Halma had a candleholder at each end of the big wooden buffet in her dining room in Pierce. For years I've felt guilty because I could only find one of the candleholders. I feared I'd lost the other in one of my moves from house to condo to condo. But now, here was the second one. Had to hold one in each hand to convince myself I still had both.

It's silly, really. They each hold two candles that never stand up straight, and have no particular aesthetic appeal. But at least I wasn't the descendant who was negligent. I didn't lose the family treasure, I just misplaced it behind a bunch of Texas Summer Reading Club water bottles.

A great weight has lifted. I'm lighter than Igor without his hunchback. As Gene Wilder so emphatically instucts Teri Garr, "Put the candle back."

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

2/11/08

Migration in a handbasket



Lucy Locket

Lost her pocket
Kitty Fisher found it
Nothing in it
Nothing in it
But the binding round it



It's a bad sign when two people ask me the same day about the meaning of "to hell in a handbasket." It could be further evidence of the impending apocalypse, but then again it might just be clutchless artisan-roasted beans jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Years ago a coworker convinced me a "handbasket" was the woven repository of thieves' hands chopped off as punishment on a precinct-by-precinct judgment day. Such a visual image! Sort of like the bucket of slippery bluegills, sunfish, and bullheads after a nice day fishing the dredged lakes near Lincoln, but with heavier Biblical overtones.

Best as I can find, the expression "to hell in a handbasket" is just over a century old, and it's closely akin to "going to heaven in a wheelbarrow". A "handbasket" is just a basket with a handle. The term is similar to "handbag," and of the same vintage. Going to either hell or heaven in a handbasket just meant getting there rapidly, portably, and easily.


My apocryphal ancestor, "The Unknown Liska", allegedly walked from the Ukraine to Bohemia with a wheelbarrow. He probably didn't think the trip was rapid or easy. Some versions of this family tale have him pushing his portable mother in the wheelbarrow, and she is clutching her pocketbook. I can see her now, with her nylons sliding down in rolls around her ankles (and her hair done up on pink rollers!).

Nobody calls their purse a handbag now. My grandma used to call her purse a "pocketbook". She had some really groovy crocheted and beaded drawstring bags. These days the term "pocketbook" usually refers to your [always limited] financial resources as in "prices to fit your pocketbook".


A-tisket a-tasket

A green and yellow basket

I wrote a letter to my love

And on the way I dropped it

I dropped it, I dropped it

Yes, on the way I dropped it

A little girlie picked it up

And took it to the market

--obviously that little girl was the aforementioned Kitty Fisher. An apoplectic apocalyptic moment came when my second-graders told me about their on-line chat room. YIKES!



During preschool group time I read the kids a Joanne Ryder book and talked about wild birds flying south for the winter. No, the kids insisted, they fly Southwest. Wanna get away?

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

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