My favorite stories have always been the stories of my ancestors. Two of my greatest passions are plants (especially herbs) and genealogy. I will never be completely sure whether my passions are inborn, or simply obtained through osmosis from my family.
I learned sewing and quilting from my mother, who learned from her mother and so on. I learned to crochet lace (at the age of 9) from my step-great-grandmother, who learned from her mother. I learned planting corn from my Meema, my mother’s mother, who in turn, learned from her mother and father. But my love of useful, medicinal plants came from my dad, and his knowledge and experience was learned growing up in a family where everyday life was lived much like it was at the turn of the century…meaning the 1800’s becoming the 1900’s.
Every craft and art I learned came from family traditions. Most of those traditions were handed down in a context of simply living daily life and tending to what needed tending. I learned to churn butter in my grandmother’s kitchen because we were out of butter and the Jersey had been milked that morning. I learned to chew plantain and put the green poultice on a deer fly bite in the edge of a field, because I was bitten by a deer fly while fishing with daddy.
Once upon a time, every family had traditions that were handed down, usually of necessity. So many of these are lost, or worse, replaced by “products” and “technologies” far inferior. I do love progress, innovation, novelty and invention…I disagree that they can replace basic necessities of life as a human on earth. For me, carrying on traditions, and the personal anecdotes and stories that come with them, is about connection, sharing, belonging and empowerment.