January 2009 - Today's Crafts: Yesterday's Survival Skills

At this time of year, it's always a good idea to be a little reflective. I've been very fortunate to have had the opportunity to travel around West Virginia meeting the local artisans and craftsmen who made such wonderful items, who inspire me to be creative, and who help to keep our traditions alive. As far back as I can remember, my family 'made things' -- but not to sell at crafts fairs. They made quilts to keep us warm on cold winter nights.

The patterns were cut from old pieces of cardboard and put in envelopes labeled with the pattern's name: Flower Basket, Wedding Ring, Log Cabin. It was definitely a winter activity - making quilts. It was a way to use every last piece of material from worn-out clothes and was a very social activity.

Often several women, in my case my grandmother, my mother, my great-aunts, would sit together cutting hundreds of quilt pieces using the cardboard templates. The real quilting wouldn't begin until enough pieces were cut and sewn together in strips or squares. The best part was the conversation. I learned about relatives I hadn't heard about before: their troubles, their achievements. I heard the love in the jokes and gentle teasing of each other, and I learned hymns. My grandmother and her two sisters sang the old hymns in a perfect three-part harmony as they worked. My mother, unfortunately, couldn't carry a tune but she contributed her enthusiasm. Quilt-making was a team-building, family bonding activity but it was also a survival skill.

Most of the arts and crafts we see at the many fairs and festivals have their origin as survival skills. I call them that because they were making the clothes and the food and the tools needed to stay alive. Today, most of us make quilts for a hobby; but in the mid-1800's, when West Virginia was being formed, the hardy people who were living here were all engaged in what we call arts and crafts for the purpose of survival. It was a waste not, want not society.

Even in my own childhood, a piece of material had several lives. Some of my dresses and my mom's aprons were made from the beautiful calico prints that came to us as grain sacks. We brought the grain home and dumped in it a bin to use for the animals, then washed the feed sacks and created articles of clothing. When the clothes became too worn or too small, they were cut into quilt pieces or sewed into strips for rag rugs.

Bits of hand soap were saved and put in pieces of cheesecloth to use in the washing machine. Pieces of string were tied together and wound into giant balls for safe-keeping and paper bags were carefully folded and saved for re-use.

The men had their crafts also. Some was purely entertainment for them and, I like to think, a creative outlet for their hard lives. Whittling comes to mind. After a long, hard day plowing the fields or hunting, the men would sit on the porch or around the fire and carve pieces of wood into the shapes of animals or people. Whittling is born of the skill necessary to use knives for survival, but it takes vision to see into the wood and imagine the form that it will become.

Most of the projects had their own seasons. In the spring and summer, we grew food. At the end of the growing season, of course we canned. I was scared of the pressure-cooker (and still am) but I regret that I didn't pay more attention to how to 'put up' corn and green beans and how to make jams and jellies from strawberries and blackberries. My mom canned everything possible and made sauerkraut. I suppose our German heritage may be responsible for that; I never asked about how long our family had been doing that. I only know that I really, really, really loved sauerkraut. My mom said that I sneaked into the cellar and moved the heavy plates from the top of the stone jar to get into the sauerkraut when I was as young as two.

We also made our own butter and I remember the repetitive, up and down movements of the stick that protruded from the top of the churner. We had butter molds and when the cream was thick enough, it was scooped into the molds with a wooden ladle to form yellow bricks of butter.

All of these things took time. A lot of time. As hard as life was, most of the activities were done in the family. I'm grateful that I grew up in an extended family and had the benefit of seeing all of these things, even if I was too lazy or uninterested in learning more about them. I may be so fascinated with these skills because I regret that I didn't learn them to pass on to my own child. I have imagination and appreciation, but that's pretty much where it stops. I can cook a little but I can't sew very well, I don't remember how to can food, and I wouldn't know where to begin with sauerkraut after I bought the cabbage. I remember how to churn butter, but don't ask me to milk the cow. I can cut out quilt pieces, but forget about putting it on a frame and actually quilting.

What I can do is visit the arts and crafts fairs and talk to the people who really do these things. I can see their passion and photograph their beautiful products to share with Two Lane readers. It's been great having this column to share stories and pictures and I hope to continue to do so in the coming year. Thanks for reading!

Janet Thompson Davis grew up in Buckhannon and graduated from WV Wesleyan many years ago. She returned to Upshur County in 2005. Although retired from full-time work, she currently is a project management consultant for the federal government and is a part-time photographer in the Upshur County area.