More critters

My co-workers, relatives and Facebook buddies have requested more photos of my sock critters, and I am happy to oblige. These socks, buttons and bows tend to create a personality of their own. I’ve been thinking it would be fun to start a blog about the ones I’ve made and the special people who received them, then follow up to add notes about the things their new owners notice about them. We’ll see where it goes.

This one was for my friend Miyuki's new baby, Myleigh.

This one was for my husband David, who loves Dalmatians.

This one was for my friend Angela, who was having a tough time.

This one belongs to my sister Megan.




This one was for my friends Robert and Christy's new baby Anna.

Miss Bunny Fantastico, complete with cape, went to Lauren who is herself fantastico.

Andrew needed a friend with a mustache and goatee.

I think this may be Aunt Sis's Mabel.

This bunny went to my good friend Susan.

And this was one of the very first ones that went to Chas, who inspired all this nonsense.

The little things really matter

1976 - Me (at age 2) with Ma-Maw and Pa-Paw Baker

Dad mentioned to me that my sister, Molly, who is 14 years younger than I am, asked him some questions about his parents. She never met them because our Pa-Paw Luther D. Baker Sr. passed away in 1986 and our Ma-Maw Vada M. Baker passed away in 1985. I’m lucky enough to have known and loved them and to remember them.

What I’ve learned from doing genealogy research on both sides of my family is that the stories that really define us as people are the random memories. The little things you remember about someone you’ve lost –things they liked, what their house smelled like, how they laughed—are the things you can’t look up in courthouse records. Don’t lose the little things.

I put together a few of these random memories of my Baker grandparents and shared them with Molly for her most recent birthday.

Here are a few things I remember:

• 
  I remember how the house used to smell when we visited. The closest thing I’ve smelled like it is the Cracker Barrel restaurant-- a cross between a sweet apple butter and wood smoke from the fireplace.
• 
  When we got to Ma-Maw and Pa-Paw’s house or when we left, Ma-maw used to say, “Come here and give me some sugar.”
• 
  I remember Pa-Paw kept a really big garden in between their house and Aunt Karen’s. Down in the trees was a pen for Oscar the dog. We used to feed him table scraps sometimes. He was a really kind dog.
• 
  I remember the bathroom wallpaper was pink and silver. There are still pieces of it in the dollhouse Dad made for me when I was 4.
• 
  I have a jewelry box that I’ve had since I was a kid that Dad says Pa-Paw won in a card game when they lived at Fenwick. Ma-maw had a friend over, and Pa-Paw was out with another friend. The men came back with one jewelry box for Ma-Maw’s friend, and they were teasing Pa-Paw that he couldn’t win a second one. He left and came back with a second jewelry box.
  

Celebrating family ties

We West Virginians know how to treasure our families. The roots of Mother’s Day, Decoration Day and Father’s Day can be traced back to our state.

Fairmont’s Central United Methodist Church is recognized as holding the first Father’s Day service in the U.S. on July 5, 1908. A Spokane, Washington, woman is given credit for establishing the day as a national holiday, but the first true observance was the worship service here.

According to an article in the Dominion Post written by my friend Kelly Barth in 1987, members of what was called the Williams Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church South may have been motivated in creating the service by the 1907 Monongah mine disaster, which claimed the lives of many area fathers. Of course, the first Mother’s Day observance happened in Grafton on May 10, 1908, so Father’s Day may have been a natural outgrowth of that holiday.

So, when you remember your father this Father’s Day, also remember that you’re really celebrating a West Virginia tradition. Go West Virginia!

Critters

The gift of a book from my friend Chas has created a whole new hobby – what I call sock critters. The book had ideas on making sock monsters, but I can’t follow simple directions so I began to do my own thing.

I take a pair of socks, some thread and some buttons and piece together a small creature. I like to sew them by hand, partly because I haven’t learned how to use my new sewing machine and partly because I just like the idea of creating something by hand.

When I start one, I try to think of little touches to make them personal. I made a Dalmatian for my husband who loves Dalmatians. For Christmas 2007, I made 15 different critters for my family members, and they were a big hit. I enjoy seeing people laugh when they open their gift and see this crazy creation staring at them with its button eyes.

My critters are a take on the sock monkey, which I love. They tend to take on a personality of their own. Sometimes I start out making one with one person in mind, but I realize in the middle of the sewing that the critter really belongs to someone else. For example, I bought some pastel polka dotted socks to make a critter for my friend Miyuki’s baby, but in the midst of the project I realized the critter was perfect for my aunt Tammy in North Carolina. Why? Well, Tammy and her family really enjoy eating at the Poky Dot restaurant in Fairmont when they come to visit. I bought more socks to make a critter for the baby.

I’ve been thinking I may start a new blog all about my critters and their owners. You never know…

A Favorite Place: North Bend Picnic Area

Since I was a little girl, my family has picnicked at the North Bend Picnic Area near Richwood. Lots of good memories have made it one of my favorite places.

Over Memorial Day weekend, my mom and stepdad and I made a trek there for an evening picnic of Dairy Queen hot dogs and iced tea.

North Bend is a great place to get your feet wet in the river, which I can never resist. If you go down to the river behind the first picnic spot on the left, you can see the remnants of a little rock dam that my four cousins built several years ago. They love the river, too, and will be glad to know part of their project is still standing. There’s a flat rock there that’s good for sitting and appreciating the sound of the river as it goes by.

I always think about the time that Ma-Maw Lipscomb was with us for a picnic and came out of the women’s outhouse screaming and jumping around because she shut herself in there with a mouse.

North Bend is one of those places I go in my mind when I need to de-stress.

P.S. I apologize to my blog followers that so much time has gone by between posts. Life has gotten in the way of blogging, but I hope to catch up this week. Thanks for sticking with me!

Missing persons

I have an envelope of smiling faces I don’t know. I have a locket with a stranger inside. I have a lost child in my cedar chest.

My mom and my Aunt Judy gave me an envelope of photos that belonged to my Ma-Maw Lipscomb that have no IDs. I have no idea who they are, but I can’t throw them away. One of my most prized possessions is my Ma-Maw’s locket. I think it belonged to her mother, and inside is a woman’s image. My great-great-grandmother? I don’t know. In my cedar chest, I have a framed photo of a nameless child who grew up to be one of my ancestors. I think we all have these mysterious missing persons in our families.

One of the saddest sights in an antique store is the box of cold case files. You know the one. It’s on a dark and dusty shelf and contains hundreds of photos, memories on sale to whoever wants them. How would you like it if your great-great-great-granddad’s face ended up on the walls of a Cracker Barrel?

I can’t urge you enough to write names on the backs of your photos and to organize and name digital photos so that others know whose image they see. Make scans of old photos and share them with your relatives and friends. Don’t let a lifetime of memories disappear through an accidental delete. Don’t create more missing persons! (I promise less of a rant next post. :) )

Mothman!

OK, so I’m Mothman fan. I’m wearing my orange Mothman T-shirt as I type this, and I have a stuffed animal Mothman on my desk at work. Yes, I’ve been to the Mothman Festival and hope to return this year. Ghosts and monsters are part of West Virginia’s Appalachian heritage. How cool is that?

If all you know about the Mothman is what you saw (or didn’t see) in the 2002 movie starring Richard Gere, you haven’t heard the entire story. The facts are far more chilling than fiction. No matter what you believe, residents of Point Pleasant, W.Va., saw some kind of winged creature in 1966 and 1967. (Of course, some say it was a sandhill crane.)

If you want to hear some details that will make you question what goes bump in the night, check out the book “Mothman: The Facts Behind the Legend” by Jeff Wamsley and Donnie Sergent, Jr. The pair grew up surrounded by the contemporary supernatural legend and wanted to set the record straight through a documentary-style account. Their book features police reports, newspaper articles and an interview with Linda Scarberry, one of the first eyewitnesses. (John Keel’s “The Mothman Prophecies” is worth reading, but I find it disjointed and hard to follow in places. I guess you'll have that when writing about transdimensional creatures.)

I definitely recommend a visit to the Mothman Festival on Sept. 19 and 20, 2009. There is a Mothman Museum and you can take a night-time hay ride tour of the TNT Area, the location of the original sighting. You can support the Mothman through your purchase of merchandise. Also, you can hear from some interesting folks talking about ghosts and other paranormal critters. It’s a fun time. I hope to see you there. Beware the men in black.

For more info, check out www.mothmanlives.com.