Fall Folk Arts Festival

This year's Fall Folk Arts Festival at Exchange Place was, in my opinion, one of the best ever.  The crowd was not huge, but those who came were interested and engaged and asked good questions.  The Junior Apprentices made hoecakes, pounded heirloom corn, demonstrated gourd crafting, and chopped wood.  Here, you can see pictures of the youngest member of the "woodchopper's" guild.  Thomas particularly liked stacking wood and making a "bowl" for me with a little tomahawk.  

Things went well in the kitchen too.  The menu was inspired by African-American foodways, and much of the ingredients came from my own garden or the EP garden.  The sweet potato biscuits were made from "Pink Bermuda" slips that the apprentices helped me plant in the spring and which came from a single sweet potato that I dug at Old Salem last fall.  Everything seemed to come full circle.

Thomas helping Jake and Matt

This is a big one!

" The keys make me official"

Working on Mommy's "bowl"

Ingredients

Vegetables from the garden
(The jar contains burr gherkins, pickled according to an 18th century recipe)

Okra soup, greens cooked in pork stock, and fried trout

Sweet potato biscuits, fried apples, and "mule-powered" sorghum

Meet the Gnomes!

Thomas and I wanted to introduce you to the gnome family who has taken up residence in our house.  We have created a home and "nature table" for them, to which will we add as the seasons change.  Right now, we are helping the gnomes gather nuts, berries, and other supplies in preparation for winter.  They particularly like buck-eyes, of which they have a large pile for "good luck." Thomas also collected a large batch of horsetail (scouring rush) for them by Mamaw and Poppy's creek. The gnomes only move at night, and sometimes they leave us letters, songs, or poems, like this one:

OWL:

As the shades of evening fall,

Whoo whoo...whoo whoo

We hear her call.

Sweeping forth on silent wing,

her golden eyes are glistening.

Swooping low along the ground,

she doesn't make the slightest sound.

When her evening flight is done,

she rises toward the morning sun.

Back upon the tree so tall.

Whoo whoo...whoo whoo

We hear her call.

In their first letter to us, they explained how they used to live in the woods behind our house (and were visited frequently by our cat, Ollie), but since Thomas's daddy is away, they thought we might like their company in our own home.  Interestingly enough, they have one son like our family. They also requested that Thomas provide them with names.  He has chosen "Tim" for the father gnome, "Rose" for the mother gnome, and "Thomas" for their son.