What I was Sewing

So, now all that's over, I've a few details to fill in.  One thing I promised to show you was the result of my sewing project.

Ages ago I bought a book about sewing all sorts of tote bags and as I've found backpacks so convenient I wanted to make one.  I also wanted to do something patchwork to use up some of the vast supply of bits I've acquired the last few years. 

I took bits of blue cloth, mainly one of Bill's old shirts and donations from the sewing ladies, and by pulling at the corners, determined either the grainline or cross-grain (not the bias, which is the stretchiest angle).  I sewed the pieces together aligning the grain, then reinforced the seam with backstitching on top.  When the pieces reached the required length I cut the width using the book itself and started the next strip, doing the same.  Then the two strips were sewed side by side. 

I used cream and white pieces, mainly from Jane, and sewed them to the back of the patchwork for added strength. 

The straps were made from lengths of cream and white and covered with bits of blue.  If I did this again I would make the inside of the straps neater, not that they show when wearing it.



My sewing kit was in a small box with a rubber band around.  Inside were a pair of manicure scissors, a dozen straight pins, a couple of needles and a tape measure. 

I like the result well enough:  it fits perfectly and is very comfortable to wear.  I may add a button closure, however.  My only complaint is that it is small and doesn't hold much.  Also, either because it is small or due to the lack of padding, any awkward shaped items (like my camera) poke me in the shoulders.  So I may try making a larger one.





The main thing is that I thoroughly enjoyed the adventure of trying something new.  Sewing is better than reading for allowing a passenger to look around or help navigate.  If I'm not driving I hate the tedium of a long drives, so something to do is absolutely necessary, even if it serves no other purpose than to pass the time

Family Reunion

It seemed forever until time to drive over to Clay's for the reunion, but we eventually went.  Everyone was asked to wear a name tag with their parents, grandparents, etc names.  Also to complete a register giving contact details and brief genealogy and an email address.  We were asked if we wanted a copy of the list (YES!).

After completing that and giving Bill his name tag, I set up my computer in a corner and started the slide show.  Everyone seemed to know each other, and of course they did.  People kept arriving for at least an hour and a half, most bringing some kind of food.  All Clay had asked me to bring was my camera.

I first sat about taking notes from the genealogy chart.  Clay said he'd send it to me, but his is an Apple Mac and I don't trust the things to talk to my computer; we never did decipher the invitation he'd sent.  Also, it gave me something to do until I could find a way to start talking with people.

Although I'd brushed up on Grandma's brothers and sisters, many of the people present were descended from her cousins and I knew nothing of them, other than what I was reading on the chart.  Bill found some pages photocopied from a biographical history of Clinton County, Indiana where I read about George Leonard who immigrated from Germany and set up several flour milling businesses in Frankfurt.  He retired on a modest but comfortable income.  His son, Andrew, went on to open a grocery store and reading about Andrew's extraordinary business acumen, his deligent church attendance and the wisdom he shared with his fellow city council members practially had me rolling in the floor laughing at his extremely inflated ego!  Thankfully, George Leonard was only Grandma's great-uncle.  Still, I put the information in my family tree for more direct descendents to enjoy.

Leonard was Grandma's Dad; I wonder if she
inherited her love of hats from him?

After Clay introduced me to a few people he thought I'd be interested in meeting, I began to strike up conversations and to invite people to come over and look at the 20 or so photographs on my computer.  I can't tell you how much it pleased me when they all recognized Clara and Jack - "Oh, that Jack, you'd know him anywhere.  He and Clara used to come back every year to visit.  She was such a sweet lady.  You never met such nice people."  A few had met my Dad at some point or other, but none especially remembered him.  He always seemed to me to avoid family gatherings.  Now I wonder if he wasn't particularly encouraged to mingle with Grandma's family, lest he discover he was adopted?  That's something I'll never know.

Grandma:  the girl in the Stripey Dress...

I came away with two new photos of my Grandma.  The one above I'm guessing was when she was about 12 or 13.  I've always found her clothes to be quite interesting, but that collar just doesn't look right to me.  She looks like she's wearing a table cloth!

Mary, Shelley & Sue

At one point I had a moment of deja vu and Bill recognised it the same time that I did.  Two years ago, I sat with two other women whose grandmothers were sister of my Grandpa Jack.  In this scenario, I was talking with Mary and Sue, whose grandmother and grandfather were siblings of my Grandma Clara.  Sue, thankfully, has email, but I will be writing letters to Mary, just as I have to Mona (Mom's 93 year old cousin) for the last couple of years.

The other new photo of Grandma, Bill found in someone's photo album.  I can't tell anything from the damaged writing on the back except that it was taken at a place called Maple Bluff.  The lady seated, wearing the jaunty hat, is Grandma.  I think she looks absolutely amazing.



Grandma seems to have liked stripes, eh?

I don't know who is the lady standing up, but I have a strong suspicion she is my Dad's first wife, Adeline.  The only reasons I think this are that it would be from about the right date and the fact that she bears a strong resemblance to my Mom, though Mom never weighed that much in her life.  That is likely another mystery I'll never solve, but it's fun all the same.

It was a long day by the time we'd been there five or so hours.  I'd talked to everyone I could, taken notes and photos of everything.  I thanked Clay about 50 times for inviting us and then we headed back to the hotel to pack up and fly home the next day.

Meeting Clay

Our next adventure was our last.  It was also the initial reason we planned this trip, to meet Clay, a cousin (first cousin, once removed:  his father was a younger brother of my Grandma), who invited me to a family reunion at the same time that he confirmed that my Dad was adopted - "We all understood that; you mean you didn't know?"



We found the condo where Clay and Dick live and immediately hopped into Sue, Clay's sister, and her husband Chuck's van to go for dinner to a beer and burger bar.  At Groveland Tap I discovered EPA doesn't stand for 'Environmental Protection Agency', but for 'Extra Pale Ale'.  We all sat on stools and started getting to know one another.  Dick used to work in finance; Clay, Sue and Chuck are retired from real estate.   Clay bought our dinner, which I thought was kind.



Because of their interest in real estate, I discovered they liked to look at houses like I do and after dinner we drove around a bit, looking at houses where Clay and Sue had lived as children and seeing what subsequent owners had done.  This reminded me of the 'ancestors' house tour' Norma took me on a couple of years ago.  Then we drove into a very interesting neighbourhood where they showed us what they called The Mushroom House. 



I was just as amazed by it as they were.  (Though I'm beginning to think it has 'eyes' which is a bit creepy...)



I thought it was great that we could be enthused by such similar things!



Then we went up to the penthouse of the condo, where the family reunion would take place the next afternoon.  The view up there was brilliant. 



About 50 people were expected the next day. 

 

This enormous family tree went back about five generations, with each colour representing the same generation.  It was complicated but I eventually figured it out.  I don't think there is a really simple way to present that amount of information.



A back wall had been decorated with family photos dating back to the late 1800s.  I had the photos of my great-great grandparents already, but there were others I'd never seen.  Also, obituaries and funeral mementos and photos from previous family gatherings.  I was rather envious.

When we went back to our hotel room, I stayed up until nearly 2 am pulling together photographs of my Grandma and of her family that I had scanned from her photo album over the last few years.  I put them into a slide show to run on my computer.  Only after this was done could I settle down and go to sleep, I was so looking forward the next day.

Leaving Minneapolis

Flood levels being what they were Bill and I were both keeping a close watch on the stream that runs behind Art and Norma's house there in Fridley.  Not least because we were sleeping on the ground/basement floor.  I teased Norma, "It's alright for you, you're sleeping upstairs!"  The creek seemed pretty full to me, but Norma wasn't worried at all.


She later emailed me a report of a train derailment thought to be due to floods, though from the photos I didn't follow that train (ha) of thought; she never mentioned the creek rising.  The whole time I was there that saying about 'God willing and the creek don't rise' bounced around in my brain.



There may be something about that stretch of the creek that protects it.  I've always preferred older built homes to new and not just because of their architecture:  I prefer houses that have demonstrably withstood the natural disasters thrown at them over a good period of time.  I appreciate things can change, but I notice it's generally the cheap new houses that get destroyed first.




Anyhow we did our good-bye thing.  Norma kept insisting that we could stay longer, she didn't care we were going to hobnob with the other side of the family in St. Paul.  I thought it best to move on, however, partly because it wasn't fair to treat them like a hotel and also because I knew I'd not be able to concentrate on the next group of people if I was still around Norma; she is absolutely excellent company and I love her to bits.

Downtown Minneapolis

Downtown Minneapolis is probably as straight-forward as any downtown area, which is to say we'd never have managed to find anyplace but for Norma's navigation!  My Dad used to say that all one way streets went the wrong way on purpose, and I'm not sure I don't agree with him.

The visit to the Minnesota Historical Society family history library was fairly bizarre.  It reminded me first of getting on board a plane:  they require bags and coats to go into lockers, proof of identity and contact details so they can issue you a 'red card' (which has a completely different meaning here in the UK, where it signals a penalty in sports).  No pens are allowed - they give you a pencil, but cameras are OK.





Then it was like going to a restaurant, only without the excitement of going somewhere or the pleasure of good food:  once past security you choose a table with a number, tell a member of staff what you are looking for and wait for them to bring it to you...or not.  Because I wanted to verify the record of my Dad's adoption sent to me by a stranger on Ancestry.com, it was a bit tricky as the records weren't yet 100 years old. 



I think they would like to have denied me any information at all, but as I had the case number, they did provide me with the information about my Dad's original name (James Brown), the date he was admitted into Owatonna State School and the date he was adopted.  They said they didn't hold the file, it was at the Courthouse.  They couldn't really understand how I had received the information that had been sent to me.

The Quest Building

It wasn't until they gave me a form to complete (in pencil) explaining what I had sought and been given that I had an idea.  I was frustrated that I couldn't look at the same record this Camille person had been able to access.  It occurred to me that she would have completed a similar form and so I asked them to look for her in their files. 





They found her.  Apparently her ancestor had  been at Owatonna but not been adopted, so she was permitted to look at the ledger of children and she had surreptitiously snapped a photo, one without headings or footers, but a significant portion of the information.  That finally answered my question about how she got the information.  I think I also wanted them to admit she had got information she wasn't supposed to in spite of all their security measures.   We then proceeded to the Courthouse, where we discovered we actually wanted the Juvenile Courthouse.

Minneapolis City Hall

There a lady named Deb checked and said all they had was the degree of adoption and she gave me a form to complete to apply to the District Court Judge for a copy of it to be released (9 years early).  I was happy that I'd done what could be done to chase down this mystery.

This is called the "Toaster Building" - Hennepin County
Government Center

Though Spike had driven us around Minneapolis two years ago, there is nothing like walking for really seeing a place. 



Bill took the photos in this post.

Year of Style - September

I thought I really should pay attention and get these posts done nearer to the start rather than the end of the month.    Frederic suggests that September is a month in which to 'Renew'.  Personally, I associate September with pulling out fall sweaters, boots and scarves and buying new school books and supplies.  Sadly, I'm not in school anymore.




My favourite hints for September include:


Send for the fall lecture schedule from a local library or museum.  Our nearest likely 'lecture schedule' would be in Newcastle and I'm still demanding more local activities.  However, there are some local authority classes in social history and jewellery making I'd consider and if I found another sewing class I'd certain jump on that.  Hurray for 'adult learning' classes!

Make room for the new, throw away the two pairs of shoes you hardly wore last winter.  Hmmm.  That could be about 20 pairs instead of two, but I've decided on a pair of navy dress shoes and some brown high heeled ankle straps.  I don't wear heels much these days; one pair rarely got worn, the other is pretty much past it.  There...that wasn't so hard, was it?


Reorganise your closet with fall and winter accessories.  Boots, scarves, coats, gloves...  I'm not very excited about cold weather around the corner, so I''m thinking I may hunt down something cosy in a cheerful colour to help me face it.

Trade in your bright summer nail poish for something more sophisticated, like bordeau, pinot noir, zinfandel or burgundy - the colours of full-bodied wines.  I'm clearly not a wine afficionado as I think of the middle two names as white /green and pink.  On the other hand I do like the berry-burgundy reds as well as all the other lush jewel tones that I associate with autumn.  Trying to think positive here (sitting in my coat in mid-August).


Are you looking forward to autumn?

Underwear on Display

Funny enough the other night Vivien and I attended the Women's Institute meeting where the speaker was an amazing 74-year-old woman named Sadie the Bra Lady.  She started maybe 40 years ago with a dress boutique that sold bras, then realised that the need for fitting expertise was a gap (is that a pun?) she could fill.  Her energy - not to mention her figure - was inspirational.


However, this is still about the holiday that we took in June.  

Does anyone else remember quilted nylon robes?

Norma was quite surprised when I told her my Dad had been adopted.  Apparently his father's family didn't know, but his mother's did.  Anyhow, I asked Norma to help me find out more so she did the navigation to get us downtown to the Minnesota Historical Society.  The family history library wasn't open until later and so we browsed the museum and found this underwear display. 

It was entirely appropriate in my mind because I grew up knowing about the Munsingwear factory in Minneapolis.   This was part of my family history, not just about underwear or the history of Minneapolis!  I increasingly find things that are relevant to my life in museums.  I must have reached that time in life, eh?

Notice how this 1920s silk Step-in skims the body, contrasting with the figure-hugging Foundette from the 1930s.  During the Roaring Twenties, short, straight cut dresses allowed young women to do without the boned corsets their Victorian-era mothers had worn.  By the 1930s, however, clingy bias-cut dresses revealed more curves and required more control.

When Grandma and Grandpa would go up north to visit family, she always brought back a brown paper grocery bag or two full of nylon strips, usually in black and white, but one year in a bright orange. I've told you all about this before - probably several times. I'd forgotten the name of the factory, though, until now. 

The "New Look" introduced by Christian Dior in the 1940s emphasized a cinched waist and an hourglass figure.  As a result, corsets made a comeback... After glamourous Lana Turner wore a form-fiting corset in 1952's The Merry Widow, the nickname stuck. Legend has it that Turner found her version (not made by Vassarette) uncomfortable. "I am telling you," she is said to have proclaimed, "the merry widow was designed by a man. A woman would never do that to another woman."

 Anyhow we wandered around looking at old underwear to pass the time. 

I love the old fashioned adverts and of course most of this is from that 'inter-war period'.

Munsingwear made undergarments for everyone, not just women.  We saw plenty of these numbers on display at the State School.




It was this circular knitting machine that revolutionised the Munsingwear factory. The machines were made in the US between 1920 and 1939 and were part of what was called a 'vertical factory', meaning they did every step from raw material to finished product. This is in contrast to the way mills worked in Britain, where each had its special part of the entire process.  How do I know this?  From watching history programmes on the BBC...

Reminds me of an outsized overlock machine (serger).

Bill often remarks on the wide infinite variety of things I can get interested in...  I'm not always sure he means it as a compliment!