An Art Journey Into Family History Part 3

Before I get into the thick of things today, I want to thank all of those readers who have taken the time to send me lovely emails or left comments on the blog about this series of postings. Your words mean a lot to me… and it tells me that there are people out there who are actually reading my blog! Without feedback from you, it makes it very difficult to judge whether or not what I am writing is of interest. So please continue leaving comments or sending emails… it is very much appreciated.

Jumping right in…

When I found the actual U.S. entry documents on the USGenWeb, I knew for sure that in August 1920, my great grandparents, Commela and Henry, along with their son and daughter in law (my grandparents) and their four children left New Brunswick and moved to a bustling little farming community called Cricket Corner (I love that name!) just outside Amherst, New Hampshire.

As I started delving into gathering information for the narrative part of my pages, I casually began chatting about it with my aunt.

“I was going through some old photographs”, I began “and I came across some photos of Dad when he was a baby.”

I described the first photo. She knew exactly the one I was talking about.




“I’m curious… where was it taken?” I asked.

This casual question came as no surprise to her. For years, she had called me “Nancy Drew, my mystery detective” when I related tales of my latest dance with historical research.

This casual question provided my entrée into talking about our family history. It was also a precursor to openly broaching the subject of doing family research. An idea I knew she would love!

“That was taken before I was born. I think it was after Mom and Dad moved to New Hampshire.”

An aside note…

This turned out not to be the case. Cross border documents I found in my research later on indicated that my dad was nearly two when they moved to N.H. My best guess: the photo was taken sometime in the spring while they still lived in New Brunswick. How do I know that? I studied the picture. My Dad was born in November and looks about six months old in this casual, back step photo. Six months from November would make it April. I will never know but I am guessing that it could have been taken on my grandmother’s birthday in mid April.

I described the second photo. She wasn't sure she had ever seen it.

"Send me a copy." she said.

I did. In a conversation a few weeks later, she was able to tell me who was in the photo. She had never seen it before.

After the book was published and my Aunt Joy (an aunt by marriage) saw the photo of her husband (my uncle Wilfred) as a young child, she was absolutely amazed. "My goodness, we never saw that photo. That picture of "Bamp" (their family nickname for my uncle) is a carbon copy of our eldest son at that age."



Nancy Drew and the Mystery Case of Family History…

Aunt Flo chuckled. “Ah, is my Nancy Drew about to go on another mission?” she said. “It would be wonderful if you did this and we found out more about where we came from.”

Yep, the gateway to mining her family knowledge and memories was definitely now open! It was, after all, her idea now wasn’t it? LOL

She reminded me that I had a “jump start”. My Dad and one of my uncles had already done some “detective work” before they passed away.

I knew my dad’s were on “slips of paper” in a big envelope (he died unexpectedly in 1984) that my sister had. My uncle, who passed away in November 2006, had managed to create a family tree of his immediate family.

Two good places to start.

I called my sister and asked if she could dig out the information and send it to me.

I tracked down the last known whereabouts of my cousin David (I had never met him or his wife). I must admit I was rather nervous picking up the phone to call him. I had never spoken to him and I didn’t want to sound like a “dork” when I did. I needn’t have been nervous… the conversation went very well.

I fired up my computer. The quest for family information began…

Who was my Grandmother?

All my life, I had believed that my grandmother’s middle name was Bertha. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was Bessie. Bertha, it turns out, was the second name of her youngest daughter who was my grandmother’s namesake.

I wondered where these names had come from. Traditionally many of the same family names are passed down from generation to generation in many families. Fortunately I had a copy of my grandmother’s maternal family history I could scour for clues. In the end, I never did discover either of these names in my grandmother’s maternal family history. I can only surmise that they may have come from her paternal side.

Born in 1891 to Amelia and John Nugent, Ina Bessie Nugent was the fourth of five children. Her parents had met at the wedding of her mother’s sister in 1877 and they were married in October of the following year.





(This photo collage of Amelia and John was not part of "Scraps of Memories, Slices of Life")

Born in Ireland in 1842, John Nugent was a young, recently graduated doctor from the Cincinnati College of Medicine and Surgery with a successful medical practice in Briggs Corner and Chipman, New Brunswick. No doubt, for the times, he was classified a “good catch” by Amelia Jane’s father and didn’t encounter any resistance when asking for her hand. Well read, he also had a side job. He was a newspaper correspondent for a Saint John, New Brunswick newspaper.

Tragedy strikes…

As a child, my grandmother was termed “delicate”. Like her mother, she was a wisp of a child and often battled with her health. But be that as it may, she managed to attend and graduate from the New Brunswick Provincial Normal School (teacher’s college) and become a teacher.

She was in her first full year of teaching in a school not far from her birth place of Chipman when her eldest brother Arthur, a strapping, athletic young man with a penchant for the “manly” art of boxing, was diagnosed with tuberculosis.

She returned home to help her mother and younger sister Alida nurse her ailing brother. Arthur died within a few months at the tender age of 31. The family and particularly her mother Amelia was devastated by his early demise.

According to Dr. Nugent, who wrote the obituary that appeared in the newspaper, Arthur had taken one box to the head too many.

A popular sport among young men of his age at the time, the “obit writer” went on to rail against boxing and the matches being held in town. He concluded that the sport (and the beatings boxers take) had led his son to a weakened state causing him to come down with influenza. This bout with the “flu” further weakened him to the point that the TB “bug” could invade his body.

Reading between the lines of the obituary, I could hear the sobs of grief coming from a man who has just lost his eldest son.

Romance…

While teaching in Blissville, Ina had been swept off her feet by a handsome, well read and established “army man”, Major George Thomas. Their romance continued, albeit at long distance (at least for those times... today it would be a hop, skip and jump!) once she returned home to Chipman.

Perhaps absence made the heart grow fonder, for soon after returning home, George proposed. Although there were some family concerns over their age differences (she was not yet 20 and George was 37), Ina was determined to marry him. After much discussion, a wedding was planned and they were married in June 1911.

Ina’s happiness was short lived.

In February of the following year, George died suddenly of a heart attack. The tragedy occurred almost to the very day her brother had passed away the year before.

Ina, seven months pregnant, in shock and disbelief at this tragic turn of affairs, returned to live in the family home.

Her mother was not well. The stress and strain of the past year was taking its’ toll on her health Run down from all the grief of the past year, she fell gravely ill.

Tuberculosis. That dreaded disease had struck his family again. My great grandfather knew that it was akin to receiving a death sentence. This time it would take his beloved wife. Very few people ever recovered from this disease, much less survived during the late 1800’s and early 1900’s.

Determined to live to see the birth of her first grandchild, Amelia Jane Nugent passed away in 1912 when my aunt Georgia was but two months old.

Piecing the story together…

Over the years, I have studied, researched and written “stories” about the lives of women who lived in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. I find this period in our collective history to be a fascinating study that provides some interesting insight into “who we were as a people and nation” before we became “who we are” today

As the puzzle pieces of my grandmother’s early life began to come together, my heart ached for her.

I had a pretty darn good idea what she must have been up against as fate handed her some painful blows. I could only imagine how helpless, hopeless and painful this time in her young life must have been for her. Many a day’s “work” of unearthing information left me feeling sad at the end of the day. The pain and grief in my grandmother’s early life touched my heart deeply. I felt vulnerable and fragile. Tears, always close at hand, tumbled.

I toyed with the idea of giving up. I knew there was more tragedy to come for my grandmother. I consoled myself with the thought that it would be okay because I already knew what it was. Well, not quite, as I was about to discover….

To end today’s post on a happier note, I’d like to leave you with a few notes and tips on gathering family information. Even if you don’t plan to ever do a family tree or delve into researching your family, you’ll find some ideas of things you can do today with your family information to make it easier for future generations.

But first, here’s the page I made with the photo of my Dad and uncles first school. It was such a fun page to put together!




Being “farm kids”, they all had chores to do before they left for school. As I studied the photos I had of their farm and thought about my visit to the area some years before, I found myself imagining those three young boys sauntering off to school picking up rocks, kicking at the dirt and playfully punching each other as they made their way to school.. It made me smile….

The narrative reads “Their morning chores on the farm done, Wilfred, Guy and Willis washed behind their ears, put on their school clothes, ran their fingers through their hair, spit on their shoes when their mother and grandmother weren’t looking, then trotted off to school just down the road.”

Some Thoughts and Tips on Gathering Family Information…

The conversations with my aunt Flo as well as gathering old family photographs from the past 100 plus years gave me a true appreciation for the importance of keeping good family records.

It very quickly became apparent to me that we all need to encourage our elders to write down or tell us about their lives and what they know about family members who have passed on. Memories, dates and names fade. They are lost forever when your parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins are no longer here to supply the information. Get them talking! Offer to write it down or record the conversation if you aren’t into writing. Just get the information in any way that feels comfortable for you!

Even if you never plan to do your “family history”, I’d like to suggest that you take a few minutes to record current events for future generations in a small notebook. I am as guilty as the next person for not writing down family events as they occur. Now, not everyone in a future generation will be interested but I can guarantee you there will be someone who wants to know!

At a minimum, keep a record of birth dates, places, countries, marriages, divorces, deaths. Speaking of deaths… now that cremation is becoming more the norm, where are the ashes of loved ones residing or in many cases, being scattered? Someone will be curious and if it is not recorded, it will be lost forever.

Tuck family ephemera away, preferably all of it in the same spot! When I was a child, I remember my mother telling all of us where the “family” stuff was and how important it would be to “grab” the box in the event of a fire or flood. It was good advice… think of all the family stuff that was lost forever during hurricane Katrina! As much as many of those folks displaced by the hurricane were devastated by the loss of their homes, many of them mentioned feeling heartbroken at losing “family” ephemera and photographs.

Newspaper clippings, certificates, awards, your children’s drawings, family bibles, school records and special cards are just some ideas of what to keep. While you are it, make sure that your photographs list who is in the picture! Today, we may know when the photo was taken (it’s usually stamped on the photo) but often we forget to include the “where” and “who”!

Have a great week…

Sharon

An Art Journey Into Family History Part 2

I don’t know about you but I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I am too much of a free spirit to be boxed in by some goal I think I should go after. I gave up “resolutions” years ago. Fraught with resistance from the “get-go”, they are doomed for early failure even before the ink on my page (yep, I use a fountain pen) is dry!

OOPS! You’re probably wondering already what New Year resolutions have to do with my art and this blog post. I confess! I am about to digress. Just a tad. Bear with me. I promise it won’t take long. There is a rhyme and reason to this brief, little “side trip”…

Now…

In January of any given year, I watch how my water aerobics group suddenly gets very large as folks flock to the pool to fulfill some New Year resolution of losing weight or getting more exercise. Occasionally, some of these folks last through March but the majority have all but disappeared by the end of the shortest month of the year. March always comes in like a lamb… our group becomes manageable again. I often wonder how many of them have abandoned a resolution they made. Something that seemed like a great idea on Jan. 1 that quickly deteriorated into a lot of hard work until finally they just gave up! We’ve all been there… Giving up is a crappy feeling …

Well if there is one thing I hate, it’s feeling crappy! After the umpteenth time of doing the same ole thing expecting different results, I banished resolutions and came up with a deviously simple way to go after stuff I determine is truly important to me. A simple solution that makes me feel good and for years now, has never let me down. Yep, I am about to share it with you…are you ready?

Getting Serious…

Sometime in January, preferably on a day when the sun is shining, I get serious I swing by my favourite coffee bar (aptly named “Serious Coffee”… LOL... a Vancouver Island based coffee chain) and get a BIG cup of coffee “to go”. Armed with my daytimer, my pen and a warm, comfy quilt, I head to a sheltered spot on the beach for a chat with ME, MYSELF and I. The only question on my mind is this very simple one: “What three things do you want to focus on this year?”

I rarely have any trouble coming up with an answer. As a matter of fact, I find it pretty darn easy coming up with lots of ideas that makes my heart go pitter patter. The hard part is sorting through all of the possibilities that dance in my head to settle on only three. In spite of being wrapped up in my beach quilt, the cold, north wind blowing along the beach on a January day definitely speeds up the decision making.

Once I know what they are, I whip out my trusty pen and write “the chosen” down in the first pages of my daytimer. I don’t spend any time making a plan, setting “goals” or “soul searching”. It’s too darn cold down there LOL. I just get on with my life and let whatever I write down percolate in the background trusting that when the time is right, it will surface for attention.

In 2007, “ART” … in its many forms (computer and otherwise) was something I felt personally important for me to focus on and wrote it down.

OK, end of digression. That wasn’t so bad now, was it? LOL

A Serendipitous Moment...

A few mere days after writing down my three focuses for 2007, I overheard one of the women in my water aerobics group talking about the “scrapbooking memory program” she had received for Christmas. My ears perked up and my curiosity GPS kicked in.

“What the heck is a scrapbooking memory program?” I wondered out loud. “BOY! I must really be behind the times.” I said quietly to myself.

Well… I didn’t get a satisfactory answer but then again that’s what we have the Internet for isn’t it? I fired up the computer when I got home and went surfing.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that it was “digital graphics made easy” through templates, etc…she was talking about. Hmmm…some ideas for how I could use this in my art started floating through my mind.

To make a long story short and so as not bore you to death with trivial details, I decided, in the end that a “canned” program was not for me. I absolutely did not want yet another program taking up precious space on my computer!

Now, as many of you already know, I like a good challenge and the thought occurred to me that perhaps this “new bit of information” was really an invitation to get "down and dirty" learning some graphic techniques. It was, after all, right in line with one of my “focuses” for 2007!

I had an old copy of Paint Shop Pro installed on my computer. Even though I dabbled with it from time to time, I rarely spent a concentrated block of time finding out what I could really do with it.

My research into “scrapbooking” had uncovered some free PSP tutorials that looked interesting. I took a crack at trying some of them out. Well WHOOPEE… they were both challenging and fun! Aaah… two experiences that will snag me in a heartbeat!

I upgraded to the latest and greatest version of PSP. Set some time aside every day to mess with it. Hey, I learned how to play piano by setting aside 15 minutes every day to practice. I could do the same with this!

Fast Forward…My First Pages…

As I sat at the computer looking at the photos of gramma’s grave, the farmhouse, barn and old school that Jackie sent me, I contemplated how I would set up the graphics pages for the photos. My initial thought was to try a design out digitally before I committed to creating it on “paper”.

Heck, I had all the time in the world. I was only going to do, at the most, four or five pages. I had already decided that they would make a lovely little Christmas gift for my aunt.

I popped a chocolate in my mouth.

“Hmmm… I do love those Roger’s Victoria Creams,” I thought to myself.

Hubby, bless him, surprises me with some on occasion during the year. It’s just one of his sweet ways (no pun intended LOL) of letting me know he loves me.

“I wonder if gramma liked chocolate as much as auntie Flo and I do?”

I laughed to myself at the thought that perhaps her mother and my grandmother had passed down a “chocolate gene” of her own to both of us.

EUREKA!!! It was perfect. A “chocolate” coloured background. The colour for the background of my first graphic would be chocolate. I chuckled. My dear auntie would roar laughing when I told her how I came up with it. At 86, she deserved some good chuckles!

The graphics for the page with gramma’s grave photos came together in the wink of an eye! I “doctored” the photo… adding some calla lilies to her headstone. Flowers that (to me) mean simplicity and beauty. I was sure gramma would be pleased to have flowers placed on her headstone again.. even if it was digitally!

The quote between the photos reads: "Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal but love leaves a memory no one can steal." The photo of my paternal grandmother was digitally placed inside a scan of a gold watch case that belonged to my maternal grandmother. I just thought that was rather fitting!

Even though you can see the narrative section on these first pages I created with the photos from Jackie, the “story” part actually was added later on in the process.

A number of questions arose as I thought about what was to go in this section.

Who was my grandmother? What was she like? Who were her parents? What was important to her? What had happened to cause her death at 34? What must it have been like for these young children to lose their mother?

Questions… floating through my brain demanding an answer. Answers I wanted to have before even attempting to write anything in that blank section. Some of those questions eventually received an answer. Some could never be answered. It still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about some of them.

The BIG Nudge…

I didn’t know it at the time but these few pages and the questions swirling around in my head formed THE nudge towards researching the genealogy of the Burnett family. I love historical research. I jumped at the chance to indulge myself in it… Time well spent of course… it was, after all, for a good cause. LOL

I was amazed and fascinated by what I found on the Internet. It was a treasure trove of digitally scanned original documents from U.S. border crossings filled out in the hand of an ancestor to handwritten census reports, death, birth and marriage records and actual scans of certificates.

Imagine how excited I was to find newspaper clippings about long ago members of the family. A little bit of long forgotten (and new to me) family members scandal spiced it right up!

Here's the newspaper page I created, fashioned after a newspaper of the day, to record some of clippings I found from the 1890's....







I was absolutely flabbergasted the day I discovered that our ancestors are listed in the “First Families of New Brunswick” publication in the New Brunswick Provincial Archives. Our family roots are planted among some of the oldest families in Canada long before Canada became a nation in 1867.

The road ahead…

What you will discover in subsequent posts, will be many of the “story art” pages (now you know where the name of my blog came from LOL) I created as I researched our family heritage over a five month period in 2007. The “story” of getting there and the publication of the pages I created into an actual book for current members of our “far flung” family.

My aunt, of course, did not know that I was creating these pages for her. But my sister and some of my cousins were “in the know” keeping it a secret. It was easier than what you might think. My aunt lived in sunny California and the rest of us are scattered… miles upon miles apart… all over Canada, the U.S. and England.

When some of my family members saw a few of the first results, they began “hinting” (in a very good natured way) at the possibility of making more than one copy of each page. They wanted pages too! Well so much for doing "one off" art on paper. I decided I would continue creating the pages digitally so I could share them with those relatives who wanted a peek!

As I neared completion of the graphic and photo phase of the initial pages and was knee deep in the research end of this “project”, I had an experience that pointed out to me that the countless hours of research and art so far, sometimes working from early morning to well into the night, but never less than eight hours a day, deserved to be acknowledged and shared. The thought of just putting all the information, photos, and mementos I had gathered thus far in a binder and squirreling it away in a filing cabinet to be forgotten just didn’t cut it with me. It was important for me to somehow honour my own process of doing the work to get to this point but how? I really didn’t have an answer.

One morning I woke up at the crack of dawn with an “itch” on the brain. Something in my psyche was bugging me, demanding my undivided attention. As I lay quietly in bed, it bubbled up into consciousness. It was my creative muse. Dropping by to remind me that it was important for me to honour my own process of creating as well as producing a result. These pages deserved to be published on the best paper I could find with the finest binding available.

“Probably end up being one of the shortest, most expensive books ever published!” I thought, laughing to myself.

My next thought came like a jolt of lightning out of nowhere. The name of the book just tumbled forth. I started to argue with my muse about the time and work that would be involved in expanding the pages to include my aunt’s siblings, maybe her grandparents. We argued back and forth… but in the end, my muse won. OK. I got it. You win. Fine. Let’s get on with it. I got out of bed. I knew exactly what I needed to do next.

Join me again next week, as I continue the “show and tell” journey of “Scraps of Memories, Slices of Life”.

Yep, that’s the name my muse gave our family book that morning! Little devil. it neglected to put the years in the ”from and to” spaces. BOY was I in for a surprise.

Sharon

A New Year's Tale for you...

Welcome to 2009. I wish you much love and peace in your life as this year unfolds.

Here's a delightful little New Year's tale for you by Emilie Poulsson that I have adapted for telling.

THE FAIRY'S NEW YEAR GIFT

Two little boys were at play one day when a Fairy suddenly appeared before them and said: "I have been sent to give you New Year presents."

She handed to each child a package, and in an instant was gone.

Carl and Philip opened the packages. Inside they found two beautiful books with leather tooled covers and pages as pure and white as the snow when it first falls.

Many months passed and the Fairy came again to the boys. "I have brought you each another book." said she, "and will take the first ones back to Father Time who sent them to you."

"May I not keep mine a little longer?" asked Philip. "I have hardly thought about it lately. I 'd like to paint something on the last leaf that lies open."

"No," said the Fairy; "I must take it just as it is."

"I wish that I could look through mine just once," said Carl. "I have only seen one page at a time, for when the leaf turns over it sticks fast, and I can never open the book at more than one place each day."

"You shall look at your book," said the Fairy, "and Philip, at his." And she lit for them two little silver lamps. Slowly, by the light of the lamps, she turned the pages so they could see them.

The boys looked in wonder. Could it be that these were the same fair books she had given them a year ago? Where were the clean, white pages, as pure and beautiful as the snow when it first falls? Here was a page with ugly, black spots and scratches upon it; while the very next page showed a lovely little picture. Some pages were decorated with gold and silver and gorgeous colors, others with beautiful flowers, and still others with a rainbow of the softest, most delicate brightness. Yet even on the most beautiful of the pages there were ugly blots and scratches.

Carl and Philip looked up at the Fairy at last.

"Who did this?" they asked. "Every page was white and fair as we opened to it; yet now there is not a single blank place in the whole book!"

"Shall I explain some of the pictures to you?" said the Fairy, smiling at the two little boys.

"See, Philip, the spray of roses blossomed on this page when you let the baby have your playthings. And this pretty bird, that looks as if it were singing with all its might, would never have been on this page if you had not tried to be kind and pleasant the other day, instead of quarreling."

"But what makes this blot?" asked Philip.

"That," said the Fairy sadly; "that came when you told an untruth one day. And this one, well this is when you did not mind mamma. All these blots and scratches that look so ugly, both in your book and in Carl's, were made when you were naughty. Each pretty thing in your books came on its page when you were good."

"Oh, if we could only have the books again!" said Carl and Philip.

"That cannot be," said the Fairy. "See! they are dated for this year, and they must now go back into Father Time's bookcase. But I have brought you each a new one. Perhaps you can make these more beautiful than the others."

So saying, she vanished. The boys were left alone, but each held in his hand a new book open at the first page.

And on the back of this book was written in letters of gold, "For the New Year."

Happy New Year

Sharon

The Marie Antionette
Real Person Award

Wendy at http://www.craftingcrazylady.blogspot.com/ sent me the sweetest email saying that because she loved my blog so much she had nominated myStoryART for The Marie Antoinette, Real Person, A Real Award. WOW! I am on a roll LOL... two awards in December! Thanks sooo much Wendy. I was very touched by your lovely email and the award.

Here are the rules for this award . . .

1. Please put the logo on your blog.

2. Place a link to the person from whom you received the award.

3. Nominate at least 7 or more blogs.

4. Put the links of those blogs on your blog.

5. Leave a message on their blogs to tell them.

My nominations are:

My art friend and stained glass whiz Mar

My other art friend and ultra talented group Mom at the Latest Trends, Cindy (if you haven't bought her book that she co-authored with three other very talented artists, you are really missing out! Use some of your Xmas money and run, not walk, to get it at Cindy's site)

My "Digital Art" at its finest and photoshop guru bud, Christy (check out her "Graphics This" link on her blog and just drool!)

My "oh my gosh can this gal do beautiful embossed metal" bud, Kim

My "What this gal can do with fantasy film will totally blow you away" fellow artist, Zeb

Even though Norma Kooi does not have a blog, I love her work! Take a peek here to see some of the fantastic collages and altered art Norma does!

Another artist who does some fantastic art I enjoy is Teesha Moore. You can find her work here.

Congratulations ladies!

Sharon

A Christmas Tale for You - A Gift from Saint Nicholas

A Gift from Saint Nicholas as retold byS. E. Schlosser (adapted for telling by Sharon House)

Claas Schlaschenschlinger was a wealthy cobbler who lived on New Street in New Amsterdam (today... New York City). He was a contented bachelor who could afford eight - eight mind you! - pairs of breeches and he had a little side business selling geese. He cut quite a figure in New Amsterdam society.

Now Claas was happy being a bachelor until he met the fair Anitje! She was as pretty and fair as a picture, and Claas fell head over heels in love with her. He was not her only suitor, by any means. The local burgermeister (mayor) was also courting the fair Anitje. But, alas, the burgermeister was a stingy, hard man, and in the end, Anitje gave her heart and hand to Claas.

Now at first, Claas and Anitje were very happy and prosperous, raising geese and children. But the burgermeister was a vengeful sort of fellow, who began a series of "improvements" to the local neighborhood, charging highly for each one, until all their money was gone. The arrival of a blacksmith who repaired shoes with hob nails, so that the shoes lasted a year or more, left Claas, Anitje and their six children as poor as church mice.

One Christmas Eve found the Schlaschenschlinger family down to their last, cold meal of bread and cheese. Claas was wondering what he had left to sell, in order to feed his family. Suddenly he remembered a fine pipe that he had found in one of his stockings on a long ago Christmas morning in Holland. Now this was a fine pipe, too good for a mere cobbler. Claas knew even then that such a gift could only be from Saint Nicholas himself.

Claas leapt up and went to dig through an old chest until he found the pipe. As he unearthed it from under a pile of clothes, a draft of cold air came from the open front door. Claas scolded his children for playing with the door and went to close it. But there, standing in the doorway was a merry, round figure of a stranger.

"Thank you, thank you, I will come in out of the cold," said the man, stomping in the door and taking a seat by the poor excuse for a fire that blazed in the hearth.

The family gathered around the white bearded old fellow as he tried to warm himself. He scolded them roundly for not keeping the fire hot, and when Claas admitted that they had nothing left to burn, the old man broke his fine rosewood cane in two and threw it on the fire.

The cane blazed up merrily, heating the whole room. The fire was so hot that the hair of the cat was singed! The cat leaped away with a cry of indignation, making everyone laugh.

It was hard to be sober around this merry old man, who made sly jokes, told riddles, and sang songs. After sitting for half an hour with the family, the old man began rubbing his stomach and gazing wistfully at the cupboard.

"Might there be a bite to eat for an old man on this Christmas Eve?" he asked Anitje.

She blushed in shame and admitted there was nothing left in their cupboard.

"Nothing?" said he, "Then what about that fine goose right there?"

Anitje gasped, for suddenly the smell of a tenderly roasted goose filled the room. She ran to the cupboard, and there was a huge goose on a platter! She also found pies and cakes and bread and many other good things to eat and drink.

Her children shouted in delight, and the whole family feasted merrily, with the little white bearded old man seated at the head of the table.

As they ate, Claas showed the old man the pipe he meant to sell.

"Why that pipe is a lucky pipe," said the old man, examining it closely. "Smoked by John Calvin himself, if I am not mistaken. You should keep this pipe all your days and hand it down to your children."

Finally, the church bells tolled midnight, and the little old man cried: "Midnight! I must be off!"

Claas and Anitje begged him to stay and spend Christmas with them, but, he just smiled merrily at them and strode over to the chimney.

"A Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year!" he cried. And then he disappeared straight up the chimney!

The next morning, when Anitje was sweeping the fireplace, she found a huge bag full of silver, bearing the words "A Gift from Saint Nicholas".

Suddenly they heard a clamor of voices outside their house. When Claas and Anitje went to investigate, they discovered their wooden house was now made of brick!

Now, as you can imagine, at first the townsfolk thought they were in league with a wizard but when Claas told them the story and showed them the new possessions and riches left to them by the old man, they made him the town alderman.

The transformed "Dutch House" in New York City remained a landmark for many years following the death of Claas and Anitje.

A Christmas Tale for You - The Three Purses

A Legend about the good Saint Nicholas by William S. Walsh (adapted for telling by Sharon House)

Now, when the good Saint Nicholas was Bishop of Myra, there were among his people three beautiful maidens, daughters of a nobleman. Their father was so poor that he could not afford to give them dowries. Now in those times and in that land, no maid could marry without a dowry so these three lovely young maidens could not wed the youths who loved them.

The poor nobleman. Things did not go well for him and finally he became so very poor that he no longer even had money with which to buy food or clothes for his daughters. He was overcome by shame and sorrow as his daughters wept continually for they were both cold and hungry.

One day, just before Christmas, Saint Nicholas heard of the sad state of this noble family. So that very night, when the maidens were asleep, and the father was watching, sorrowful and lonely, Saint Nicholas took a handful of gold, and, tying it in a purse, set off for the nobleman's house. Creeping quietly and silently up to the open window, he threw the purse into the chamber, so that it fell on the bed of the sleeping maidens.

The father picked up the purse. When he opened the pouch, he discovered the gold. He rejoiced greatly and awakened his daughters. He gave most of the gold to his eldest child for a dowry. The very next day she wed the young man whom she loved with all her heart.

A few days later Saint Nicholas filled another purse with gold, and, as before, went by night to the nobleman's house and tossed the purse through the open window. Thus the second daughter was enabled to marry the young man whom she loved.

Now, the nobleman felt very grateful to the unknown one who threw purses of gold into his room. He longed to know who his benefactor was so he could thank him. So the next night he watched beneath the open window. And when all was dark, lo! good Saint Nicholas came for the third time, carrying a silken purse filled with gold, and as he was about to throw it on the youngest maiden's bed, the nobleman caught him by his robe, and said:

"Oh good Saint Nicholas! why do you hide yourself thus?"

And he knelt down and kissed the saint's hands and feet. Now Saint Nicholas, overcome with confusion at having his good deed discovered, begged the nobleman to tell no man what had happened.

Thus the nobleman's third daughter was enabled to marry the young man whom she loved; and she and her father and her two sisters lived happily for the remainder of their lives.

Santa's on his way! Track his journey in 3D...

Christmas isn't just for kids! Every Christmas Eve I track Santa's journey around the earth with NORAD, the bi-national U.S.-Canadian military organization responsible for the aerospace and maritime defense of the United States and Canada. Kids love this site but so do adults... and this year you can even track Santa on his journey with google earth. So for some fun for the kids and you... visit NORAD and perhaps even start a family tradition!

Happy Holidays...

Sharon

A Tale for you - The Fairy Tulips...

Even though the English folktale, "The Fairy Tulips" is not a Christmas tale, it is a lovely story nonetheless. For me, it conjures up beautiful imagery as I hear or read it for it is a tale of love, caring and goodness... A tale we can all appreciate as our families gather together to celebrate this holiday season.

Each Christmas, I choose a tale to tell to my family as we gather together on Christmas Eve. It has become a wonderful tradition and everyone looks forward to "this year's story"! This year, I have chosen this story to be my Christmas Eve tale.

Perhaps you could start a similar tradition this year by choosing a favourite story from one of the stories you will find here in the next few days or another story that speaks to your heart and you would like to share with your loved ones.

Have a lovely Christmas everyone!

Check back on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and January 1, 2009 for more tales!

THE FAIRY TULIPS

Once upon a time there was a good old woman who lived in a little house. She had in her garden a bed of beautiful striped tulips.

One night she was wakened by the sounds of sweet singing and of babies laughing. She looked out at the window. The sounds seemed to come from the tulip bed, but she could see nothing.

The next morning she walked among her flowers. But she could find no signs of any one having been there the night before.

On the following night she was again wakened by sweet singing and babies laughing. She rose and stole softly through her garden. The moon was shining brightly on the tulip bed, and the flowers were swaying to and fro. The old woman bent down and looked closely. What a beautiful sight she saw. Standing by each tulip, was a little Fairy mother crooning and rocking the flower like a cradle, while in each tulip cup lay a little Fairy baby laughing and playing.

The good old woman stole quietly back to her house. From that time on she never picked a tulip, nor did she allow her neighbors to touch the flowers.

The tulips grew daily brighter in color and larger in size, and they gave out a delicious perfume like that of roses. They began, too, to bloom all the year round. And every night the little Fairy mothers caressed their babies and rocked them to sleep in the flower cups.

The day came when the good old woman died. The tulip bed was torn up by folks who did not know about the Fairies. They planted parsley in the garden instead of the flowers. But the parsley withered and died and so did all the other plants in the garden. From that time on, nothing would grow in the garden.

But the good old woman's grave grew beautiful. The Fairies sang above it, and kept it green. And on the grave of the old woman and all around it there sprang up tulips, daffodils, and violets, and other lovely flowers of spring.

Happy Holidays,

Sharon

A Christmas Tale for You - The Christmas Fairy of Strasburg

THE CHRISTMAS FAIRY OF STRASBURG

This is a German folktale by J. Stirling Coyne that I have adapted for telling...

ONCE, long ago, there lived near the ancient city of Strasburg, on the river Rhine, a young and handsome count. His name was Otto. As the years flew by he remained unwed, and never so much as cast a glance at the fair maidens of the country. For this reason people began to call him "Stone-Heart."

One Christmas eve, Count Otto ordered that a great hunt should take place in the forest surrounding his castle. He, his guests and his many retainers rode forth into the forest. The chase became more and more exciting. It led through thickets, and over pathless tracts of forest, until at length Count Otto found himself separated from his companions.

He rode on by himself until he came to a spring of clear, bubbling water, known to the people around as the "Fairy Well." Here Count Otto dismounted. He bent over the spring and began to wash his hands in the sparkling tide. To his wonder he found that though the weather was cold and frosty, the water was warm and delightfully caressing. He felt a glow of joy pass through his veins. He plunged his hands deeper into the water. All of a sudden, he fancied that his right hand was grasped by another, soft and small, which gently slipped from his finger the gold ring he always wore. And, lo! when he drew out his hand, the gold ring was gone.

Full of wonder at this mysterious event, the count mounted his horse and returned to his castle. He resolved that the very next day he would have the Fairy Well emptied by his servants.

He retired to his room. Throwing himself upon his couch, he tried to sleep but the strangeness of the adventure kept him restless and wakeful the whole night through.

Suddenly he heard the baying of the watch-hounds in the courtyard. Then he heard the creaking of the drawbridge, as though it were being lowered. Next came the patter of many small feet on the stone staircase. To his utter dismay, he heard the sound of light footsteps in the chamber adjoining his own.

Count Otto sprang from his couch at the ready. As he did, there sounded a strain of delicious music. He flung the door of his chamber open. Hurrying into the next room, he found himself in the midst of hundreds of Fairy beings, clad in gay and sparkling robes. They paid no heed to him, but began to dance, and laugh, and sing, to the sound of mysterious music.

In the center of the room stood a splendid Christmas Tree, the first ever seen in that country. Instead of toys and candles, the lighted boughs were filled with diamond stars, pearl necklaces, bracelets of gold with colored jewels, ornaments of rubies. sapphires and feathers, silken belts embroidered with Oriental pearls, and daggers mounted in gold and studded with the rarest gems. The whole tree swayed, sparkled, and glittered in the radiance of its many lights.

Count Otto stood speechless, gazing at all this wonder. Suddenly the Fairies stopped dancing and fell back, to make room for a lady of dazzling beauty who came slowly toward him.

She wore a golden crown of jewels on her raven-black tresses. Her hair flowed down upon a robe of rosy satin and creamy velvet. She stretched out two small, white hands to the count and addressed him in sweet, alluring tones: --

"Dear Count Otto," said she, "I come to return your Christmas visit. I am Ernestine, the Queen of the Fairies. I bring you something you lost in the Fairy Well."

And as she spoke, she drew from her bosom a golden casket, set with diamonds, and placed it in his hands. He opened it eagerly and found within his lost gold ring.

Carried away by the wonder of it all, and overcome by an irresistible impulse, the count pressed the Fairy Ernestine to his heart, while she, holding him by the hand, drew him into the magic mazes of the dance. The mysterious music floated through the room, and the rest of the Fairy company circled and whirled around the Fairy Queen and Count Otto. Gradually they dissolved into a mist of many colors, leaving the count and his beautiful guest alone.

Count Otto forgot about all his former coldness toward the maidens of the country. He fell on his knees before the Fairy and besought her to become his bride. At last she consented on the condition that he should never speak the word "death" in her presence.

The next day the wedding of Count Otto and Ernestine, Queen of the Fairies, was celebrated with great pomp and magnificence, and the two continued to live happily for many years.

Now it happened that the count and his Fairy wife were to hunt in the forest around the castle. The horses were saddled and bridled, and standing at the door, the company waited. The count paced the hall in great impatience waiting for the Fairy Ernestine to arrive. But she tarried long in her chamber. At length she appeared at the door of the hall, and the count addressed her in anger.

"You have kept us waiting so long," he cried, "that you would make a good messenger to send for Death!"

Scarcely had he spoken the forbidden and fatal word, when the Fairy, uttering a wild cry, vanished from his sight. In vain, Count Otto, overwhelmed with grief and remorse, searched the castle and the Fairy Well. He could find no trace of his beautiful, lost wife. Only the imprint of her delicate hand set in the stone arch above the castle gate.

Years passed by, and the Fairy Ernestine did not return. The count continued to grieve.
Every Christmas Eve he set up a lighted tree in the room where he had first met the Fairy, hoping in vain that she would return to him.

Time passed and the count died. The castle fell into ruins. But to this day may be seen above the massive gate, deeply sunken in the stone arch, the imprint of a small and delicate hand.

And such, say the good folk of Strasburg, was the origin of the Christmas Tree.

Happy Holidays,

Sharon

Christmas Story Time......

As Christmas nears, I've decided to share with you some of my favourite Christmas stories. Here's the first in a series of lovely stories for you to savour, enjoy and cheer you. It is my holiday gift to all of you and a gentle reminder to take a moment to count our blessings and find hope for the future in spite of all the topsy turvy we are living through in this world this holiday season...

THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER
BY HORACE E. SCUDDER (adapted by Sharon House for telling)

THERE was once an honest shoemaker who worked very hard. Still, he could not earn enough money to live on. At last, all he had in the world was gone except just leather enough to make one pair of shoes. He cut these out at night, and meant to rise early the next morning to make them up.

His heart was light in spite of his troubles. His conscience was clear. He was a good and kindly man. So he went quietly to bed, left all his cares to God, and fell asleep. In the morning he said his prayers, and sat down to work. He looked at his work table in surprise. For there, to his great wonder, stood the shoes, already made, upon the table.

The good man knew not what to say or think. He looked at the work. There was not one false stitch in the whole job. All was neat and true.

That same day a customer came in, and the shoes pleased him so well that he readily paid a price higher than usual for them. The shoemaker took the money and bought leather enough to make two pairs more. He cut out the work in the evening, and went to bed early. He wished to be up with the sun and get to work.

He was saved all trouble. When he got up in the morning, the work was already done. Pretty soon buyers came in, who paid him well for his goods. So he bought leather enough for four pairs more.

He cut out the work again overnight, and found it finished in the morning as before. So it went on for some time. What was got ready at night was always done by daybreak, and the good man soon was well-to-do.

One evening, at Christmas-time, he and his wife sat over the fire, chatting, and he said: "I should like to sit up and watch to-night, that we may see who it is that comes and does my work for me." So they left the light burning, and hid themselves behind a curtain to see what would happen.

As soon as it was midnight, there came two little Elves. They sat upon the shoemaker's bench, took up all the work that was cut out, and began to ply their little fingers. They stitched and rapped and tapped at such a rate that the shoemaker was amazed. He could not take his eyes off them for a moment.

On they went till the job was done. The shoes stood, ready for use, upon the table. This was long before daybreak. Then the little elves ran away as quick as lightning.

The next day the wife said to the shoemaker: "These little Elves have made us rich, and we ought to be thankful to them, and do them some good in return. I am vexed to see them run about as they do. They have nothing upon their backs to keep off the cold. I'll tell you what we must do. I will make each of them a shirt, and a coat and waistcoat, and a pair of pantaloons into the bargain. You can make each of them a little pair of shoes."

The good shoemaker liked the thought very well. One evening he and his wife had the clothes ready, and laid them on the table instead of the work they used to cut out. Then they went and hid behind the curtain to watch what the little Elves would do.

At midnight the Elves came in and were going to sit down at their work as usual. But when they saw the clothes lying there for them, they laughed and were in high glee. They dressed themselves in the twinkling of an eye, and danced and capered and sprang about as merry as could be, till at last they danced out of the door, and over the green.

The shoemaker saw them no more, but everything went well with him as long as he lived.

Happy Holidays,

Sharon

Show and Tell time...

The last two weeks have been busy getting ready for Christmas... baking, shopping (ugh! I hate malls!), finishing up projects, wrapping gifts, putting up the tree... and getting some art time in.

There are loads of pictures to show you this week! I've been a busy bee...

Last week, Kim Parkinson held a workshop over on Latest Trends working with metal foil. Well, I have been waiting for what seems like forever, to do this workshop with her. Her project was a holiday card box but I decided to do a frame for one of my favourite photos of our granddaughter with Santa when she was just a few months old.

I had an old frame I didn't like and it was perfect for the project. I created the pattern on my computer and then got to town doing the metal work. Once the pattern was completed, I flipped it over, did some refining, flipped it back over, put Spackle on the back to give it body and let it dry overnight.

I had planned on painting it but when I did, I sure didn't like it! It wasn't my vision of what I wanted at all. I messed around with some more paint, even took some sandpaper to it and it looked even worse.

I was already tearing my hair out and about to kick myself in the derriere when ***bing*** I had an idea. I'd just make it look like old pewter. Well I didn't have a clue as to how that was going to happen, but in the end it did. I am pretty pleased with the results.

Here's a photo of the finished product, an 11 x 14 inch frame with that darling photo of our sweetie pie with Santa...

Well now I was right "into" doing metal. "More, more", said my muse! Never being one to deny my muse ANYTHING (chuckle), I whipped out some more metal and made two more pieces.

The first one is a pattern mold for printing on fabric using Shiva oil sticks. The second is a foam stamp I had. I coloured both of these with alcohol ink... what a pleasure it was to work with that stuff... thank you Tim Holtz!

So now what? Some nice metal pieces but what can I put them on? Oh, I know, I'll put them on a book cover. Hmmm... haven't got one that's big enough! Oh gosh, I guess I'll just have to take one of those old encyclopedia books and make a cover.

Out came the matte medium and old pattern tissue paper. Slap, swish, slop... nice texture! When it was dry, I brushed it with Lumiere (my favourite metallic acrylics) and here is the result..

Of course, I haven't got the pages for the book bound yet... that's going to have to wait until after Christmas now... but it's going to look pretty darn nice when it's finished!

Another project I started and got finished was a fairy jar! This is not normally something I would tackle but it was a gift for a swap friend who loves faeries. I couldn't find any instructions on how to do this so I just figured it out myself. Unfortunately because it is all white and silver it doesn't photograph all that well, but it turned out quite sweet. Even hubby liked it....and that's saying something .. don't ya think??

Here's a close up of the little angel inside. I made her wings out of a drawing that I scanned into the computer and then printed on a transparency.

Nope, not done yet... told you... I was a busy gal this week... I wasn't kidding!

Next project... a paper sculpture! And yes, you guessed right... one of those Reader's Digest Condensed Books is now a very elegant paper sculpture! This photo really doesn't do it justice... the paper is a wonderful vintage shade of ivory going into brown.

Terry Noell, the paper sculpture maven extraordinaire, really inspired me to take a crack at doing a sculpture after watching her photo show. It was fun... after awhile folding the paper becomes a very zen like activity! This sculpture reminds me of an Elizabethan collar... what does it look like to you?

When I was photographing the sculpture, I happened to look at it from above. I was fascinated by how it looked! Isn't this photo, taken from above, neat???

We're into the home stretch now... with the clear glass Christmas balls that had a date with some of my Lumiere paint, some perfect pearls, mica, glitter, "snow", spray adhesive and alcohol blending fluid.

Susan Chong, one of our art Mom's over at Art Techniques just had to go and make some of these just as I was about to clean up my art room! Of course, when I saw hers, I just had to have some too! She has some instructions on her blog if you just have to have some too! I didn't quite follow her "recipes" (remember, I am the one who never follows instructions) but I think they turned out nicely, don't you?

Here are a couple of close ups so you can see them in detail ...

So there you have it! Show and tell for this week... now I really do have to get busy and get my art room tidied up, stuff put away, floors washed, dust bunnies banished, shelves waxed and polished... you get the idea... all before my "out-laws" arrive for Christmas! That will take me at least a week considering the state it is in LOL

I doubt that I can stay away from creating more "stuff" in the next couple of weeks so tune in next week to see what I have been up to! I am sure to find a few little bits and bobs hiding underneath all the stuff on my art table as I am cleaning up that just beg to become a little project!

Thanks for stopping by... hope you enjoyed this week's show and tell. May it inspire you to make a mess in your art room too! Just be naughty... Santa will forgive you if your art room is not pristine!

Happy Arting,

Sharon

Thanks for the Award!

Diane, over at Good Mourning, Glory was a real sweetie... she chose me and mystoryART to receive the Kreativ Blogger award! She has a wicked sense of humour... a gal after my own heart.. so drop on over to pay her a visit and read about some of her escapades!

The rules of this award are pretty straightforward. I am to name 7 things that I love (gosh, only 7!) and pass the award along to 7 deserving bloggers (gosh, only 7... that's going to be tough) .

Seven Things I Love

1. I love telling stories, reading stories, finding stories (would you have guessed???)
2. I love making a big mess in my art room. The bigger the mess, the more creative my muse gets!
3. I love hot apple pie and ice cream.
4. I love figuring/trying out stuff out on my own. Instructions? What are those? Never read them. Screw up sometimes but the challenge is getting out of it!
5. I love snuggling on the couch for an afternoon snooze with my little dog Shelby.
6. I love the beach... anywhere... anytime (well I'll be honest...a cold, windy, rainy winter day at the beach doesn't exactly thrill me!)
7. I love living in Victoria, B.C. with all its history, natural beauty, mountain views and beaches!

7 deserving bloggers I'd like to pass this reward on to. I enjoy visiting their sites and seeing what they are up to! Hope you do too!

1. Arlene at Altered By Me
2. Belinda Schneider
3. Cyndi Lavin at LayersUponLayers
4. Elizabeth at Altered Book Lover
5. Margot Potter at the Impatient Crafter
6. Michi at Michi Rhymes with Peachy
7. Stephanie Loomis

Congratulations to these 7 creative ladies...

Thank again Diane. It is an honour and I am truly appreciative!

Sharon

Holiday Memories ... Blog Giveaway Contest Winner

Thank you to everyone who left a holiday memory! What a delight to read... entries that tug at your heartstrings, tiny stories of delight, stories that just left me feeling warm and cozy. I wish I could send a surprise package to all of you!

So I know you are probably very curious to know what is in the package. It's a "grab bag" of ephemera, game pieces and other miscellaneous items to use in your art.




Vintage papers

• 2 music sheets from from a 1922 school music program book
• a cover from (what else (grin) a Reader's Digest Condensed Book (1968)
• a bookplate from a RDCB book (1972) with a matching embossed sheet
• 3 sheets of German text from a 1932 German novel
• 1 sheet of Dutch text from a Kahil Gibran book
• 3 sheets of French-English dictionary pages from a 1919 dictionary
• sewing pattern tissue from the '60's

** 3 metal embossed squares (I cuddled with my "Bug" for you)
** a small vintage crochet doily from my collection of old doilies
** 2 vintage hankies from my collection
** a small bag of old buttons
** a small bag of puzzle pieces from a '60's puzzle
** a large domino to alter (I drilled it for you)
** 4 RummiKub tiles (drilled these for you too)
** a couple of tickets
** 2 small fabric pieces with vintage images
** an altered tag with "believe" on it
** a double microscope slide holder to alter
** Miscellaneous small stickers and 8 tiny queen of hearts playing card images
** a vintage image, bamboo tile pin that I made
** some pretty wired white ribbon with irresdesant polka dots

The beads and the little doll are not included in the package...I discovered they don't pack well in a large envelope... so I just added some more flatter "stuff" to the package after I took the photo.

And the winner of this holiday "play" package is OPHELIA! Congratulations! Please get in touch with me by Wednesday, Dec. 10, Ophelia so that I can get your package off to you.

Thanks again everyone for playing. I wish you all a wonderful holiday season. The smell of evergreen throughout your house. Chocolate surprises in an Advent Calendar. Tasty little morsels of holiday cookies baking in the oven. And remember, when offered some "goodies" to sample by friends, family or colleagues... if someone else made it, it doesn't have any calories.(I wish!!!)

See ya'll again later on this week...

Sharon