Penny Sanford Porcelains

Our Fourth Anniversary

4:45 a.m. December 31, 2007.  Exactly four years ago, I was a sleepless, nervous single woman of 41, about to begin the greatest adventure of my life.

This early morning, again sleepless, I've been looking back through a huge library of photos we have taken in those four years and the family photos Gordon has scanned and remastered.  I've not been able to pick out anything that can convey the roller coaster ride of these past four years.

And then it hit me.  This current dough bowl project is a perfect visual representation of the best four years of my life.

They have been difficult, exhausting, emotionally draining four years, primarily because of external circumstances.

I've never felt as loved or protected or blessed as I have felt in these past four years. Gordon and I can, in hindsight, clearly see the positives that have come from each external problem we have had to face.

God is slowly carving away the junk we each brought into this marriage... the emotional baggage... the  expectations that are not God's best for our life together.

We've cut a few new hurts in the past four years, but with each pass of God's chisel, we reach stronger hardwood.

I spent another wonderful four hours on this dough bowl yesterday.  It is shaping up nicely.  I think God would say the same of this marriage that He put together.

There is still some decayed sapwood to be removed.  There are still some deep cuts to carve out.  This dough bowl (our marriage) has many hours (many years) of work still to be invested.

The grain of this cherry hardwood is tight and beautiful and strong.

With each problem we have faced, overcome or learned to live with, God has been making our marriage stronger... more beautiful.

Four years ago, I had no concept of how difficult was the task of growing a close, loving marriage.

Four years ago, I had no concept of how beautiful it is to love and be loved in this way.

Thank you, my dear husband, for your strength of character, your faith in God and in our future, your patience in helping take care of my mother and uncle, and above all, your steadfast love.

Sure, I Can Make a Hand-carved Dough Bowl!

I've never claimed to be smart or prudent, have I? 

Nope. Not me! And today I proved it all over again.

I finally talked my uncle Charles K. Hamer, "Unc", into teaching me how to make a hand- carved dough bowl.

He cut out two slabs of beautiful aged cherry from a tree felled by Hurricane Katrina. Wood grown on our family farm.

So, today, armed with a hammer and a chisel, I played like I was a pioneer, carving out a dough bowl with my own two hands so that I could bake bread for my frontier family.

You should be laughing very hard here, especially those of you who know what a pampered princess I like to be!

I managed to last four hours, steadily tpat, tpat, tpat, tpat, tpat, my little wimpy hammer strikes against the chisel, carving out the cherry hardwood.

Unc's decisive, confident TAP, TAP, TAP was a stark contrast to my timid beginner strikes.

Let me tell you, carving with a chisel is NOT for wimps! Tonight, my hands are aching, my pectorals and deltoids and biceps are aching. There are muscles I cannot name that are aching.

Folks, I have strong hands and forearms because of my years of sculpting.  I thought I would be OK with using wood as a sculpting medium.  NOT!

It smells like a post-game locker room here. Not the sweaty body odor stuff, but a topical analgesic mushroom cloud from the three or four topical creams I have tried on these hands.  Imagine a bad toothache in every joint of your hands. 

The smell has even driven two Westies off of the bed.  All five of them were stretched out against me just a little while ago, administering their special brand of therapy.

Gordon thankfully has sinus tonight, so the pungent smell is not driving him away. *grin* He is rubbing and massaging my hands and arms and bringing me hot salt water to soak my left hand. (How did I ever deserve him?)

Here is the really NOT smart part.

Yesterday, I injured my pointer finger of my left hand. I'm not going to tell you how I injured my hand because it will just reinforce that "I am not smart" thing even more!

My pointer finger on my left hand is swollen about twice as large as it should be. I can't bend it at all, and the angry hot redness extends well past my knuckle. It hurts to even look at it. *laugh at myself*

So today, while jumping feet first into this new artform, I managed to hit the swollen knuckle of my left hand with the hammer not once... not twice... not three, four, or five times... but SIX TIMES!

Please go back and re-read the first sentence of this post.

IMPORTANT: A chisel is sharp and dangerous, especially when propelled by the force of a hammer. Do not attempt this project without the sage advice and oversight of an experienced wood-worker. A chisel can cut deep into human tissue, cutting vital blood vessels and important muscles, etc.

Once, while I was in college, I rode horses all morning with some friends, having not been on a horse in years and years. That afternoon, another couple of friends convinced me to go roller skating with them.  I remember getting out of bed the next morning and hitting the floor because my legs refused to transport me anywhere. 

It has been more than 25 years since that little folly. I can smile about it now.  For some reason I've been thinking about my college-era thirst for trying something new. *laugh*  There seems to be a pattern de-cloaking here.

So, why a dough bowl? Weeelllll, I cut my teeth on family stories of my Great-great-great Grandfather James Cochran Hamer leaving the Carolinas with his four motherless boys and wagons filled with everything he would need to carve a farm out of the Mississippi wilderness.

It was 1837. James' wife, Ann Flowers Hamer, had died from complications following the birth of their fourth son. The infant was just a couple of months old when, according to family history, James showed up at the relative's house and said, "I want my boys. I'm going to Mississippi."

Growing up on this farm that my great-great- great- grandfather James established in 1837, I would daydream about carving a cave out of the red Mississippi clay.

I did not know then that the embankment I chose for the cave was actually the levee of the pond that Lillibeth dramatized recently.  A cave dug in a man-made levee would not have been a good idea. *crooked grin*

But back to my childhood fantasy.  I wanted to catch beaver and make my own beaver fur coat. I would have preferred mink, but if there are any little feral mink on the farm, we have not seen them. 

Mentally, I designed my pioneer cave interior and what I would need to survive like my forefather. I was really into the Daniel Boone television show at that time as well!

I think I even dragged a shovel all the way to the pond to start the dig.  LOL  Yep, I was too small to carry the shovel. After moving a few spoonfuls of the baked Mississippi mud, I decided to go play in my playhouse. 

You know, I don't think I have ever shared this childhood fantasy.  LOL  Please go back and read the first sentence.  he he he

Sunday (tomorrow) afternoon, I will continue my quest to create that primitive dough bowl. You will certainly be seeing more of this Regeneration Therapy.

The last two pictures are of the Williamsburg-like apple trees that Unc made for Christmas gifts this year. Look here and here to see Unc's woodworking last year, 2006.

You can pick out the three red cedar apple trees and cedar rolling pin that Unc made from a branch of a cedar tree that had, for decades, shaded the old farmhouse on a neighboring farm. They were gifts to the descendants of that family-owned farm.

Somehow it touches something deep, deep inside to hold an object  made from a piece of wood that was alive and growing on the very land your ancestors were struggling to tame from the dense, rich Mississippi wilderness.

MSU Cheese

Beautiful... delicious... fragrant... colorful... cheese!

Made at MSU... Mississippi State University in Starkville. MS.

They sell out every year, making the cheese we give as Christmas gifts, quite appreciated!

My mother, who taught at Mississippi State for 18 years, was allowed to have a standing order for cheese each Christmas and Easter, so we have been in Cheese Heaven for the past 35 or so years! Wow, I did not realize it has been that long.

We've been very thankful for that standing order over the years.  The cheese business at MSU has been so progressively successful that they have expanded to muscadine juice, blueberry cider, peanut products, jellies, BBQ sauce, spice blends, and something new, Bully Breakfast items. Bully refers to the school mascot, the Bulldog.

The history of MSU's cheese program is a fun read.  1938, ten wooden molds for the Edam balls were hurriedly shipped out of Holland before World War II closed down the ports.

Somewhere in the 1970's after my mother started getting her standing order, Chocolate Cheese and Strawberry Cheese were tried and abandoned.  HA! Yep, we bought and tasted... and still break into peals of laughter over those two flavors!

But hey, the first guy to combine peanut butter and chocolate was probably met with derision. My life would not be livable without Reece's Peanut Butter Cups or Walmart's generic version. So, keep experimenting, MSU!

The Dairy Plant and Cheese production at MSU is part training program for students, part public relations for MSU and Mississippi, and yet another Mississippi success story!

MSU faces University of Central Florida in the Liberty Bowl in Memphis, TN, tomorrow! We'll be snacking on cheese and cheering for our alma mater!

UPDATE: I failed to mention that you can place orders for the MSU Cheese or even drop by their public offices/store on the MSU Campus. You don't have to have a standing order to get cheese each year. Just be aware that they always sell out, so order early.

Secondly, the MSU Alumnus Magazine did a feature on our porcelain studio back in 1998.  It is still online here. The information is still applicable.

Recipe for Herb Cheese Daisies

Years ago on one of their visits to the farm, (cousin-by-marriage) Marjorie Melton Hammond, and her husband, our Cousin Kelly Hammond of Greenwood, MS,, brought us this beautiful tin filled with Marjorie's home-made goodies.  She was an excellent Southern cook!

Cousins Marjorie and Kelly are dead now, but every time we use this beautiful tin or the Herbed Cheese Daisy Recipe, we remember fondly the time spent together.

I kinda-sorta collect tins... usually those with a Southern theme. (If you ever see a Westie on a tin, PLEASE let me know!)

This tin is five inches deep with the famous painting of magnolias by Martin J. Heade printed on the removable top of the tin, perfect for a serving tray. Heade painted a series of stunning magnolia blooms. I could not find the name of this particular painting or in which museum it resides

The bottom of the tin is printed with a Frank W. Benson painting. I've not found the specific title of this painting. Benson painted a number of women- at-the- seashore scenes. 

If you know the names of the paintings or the museums housing these works of art, please let me know.

This tin from Cousin Marjorie was designed for Sunshine Thousand Window Bakery of Long Island City, New York, the world's largest bakery from 1912 until 1955. Keebler now owns the Sunshine company.

This sturdy tin was introduced in 1991.  I've seen one of these well-made Sunshine commemorative tins with George Washington paintings from 1984... gotta find one of those in good condition to use at DAR meetings. 

Anyway, back to the Herb Cheese Daisies.  Cousin Marjorie's cheese daisies were as crisp on day three as they were just out of the oven.  I've not figured out how she made them so short.  If you have any knowledge about making homemade crackers and cookies very crisp, please share the secret.

Thanks to Cousin Marjorie, I can share this delicious recipe with you.  This Christmas when we put flowers on the grave for her and Cousin Kelly, next to the flowers her daughter had placed, I whispered a little thanks for her simple act of sharing that we have continued to enjoy for more than 15 years.

Herb Cheese Daisies

2 cups shredded Colby, Cheddar, Mozzarella or Monterey Jack cheese
1/4 lb butter (preferred) or oleo
1 light cup of flour
1/2 tsp of salt
1/4 tsp of red pepper (or less)
1/2 tsp each: rosemary, marjoram and savory

Cream butter and cheese together
Sift flour, salt and pepper together
Then add butter, cheese and herbs
Blend well and form into two rolls
Place in plastic wrap and store in refrigerator until chilled
Slice (about 1/4 of an inch thick) and put on cookie sheet
Place pecan half on each slice
Bake at 325 degrees for about 10 minutes
Cool completely before putting in an air tight container

We use less red pepper. You can cut the dough into daisy shapes with a cookie cutter. If your oven cooks fast, watch the bottoms of the cheese daisies. Move them to a higher shelf if the bottoms brown too fas.

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Must Regenerate

Every year since I opened my studio in 1992, I've worked against some wicked deadlines, especially for Christmas.  Our Christmas "rush" begins in mid to late summer.

Every year, my physical batteries have run down.  Each year, the degree to which my batteries are depleted has increased... until Gordon.

When Gordon and I married (four years ago as of December 31, 200 7), he started making me rest during crunch times.

Gordon is absolutely right, I admit. I'm just unable to make myself rest.

The last four  years, I have been able to work longer, sculpt more, etc., until after Christmas when it is time to crash and rest. 

You know how it is...you reach the point where you just can't afford to feel tired, so you just ignore the physical and mental fatigue so that you can meet deadlines.

This year, I crashed on Christmas Eve.  I slept like I was in a coma. Same on Christmas Day and the Day after Christmas.

We did get out in the glorious sunshine on Christmas Day to go put flowers on family graves, and I took a long nap when we got home! LOL

Today, two days after Christmas, I still slept until noon, but the spark is coming back.

My sweet Gordon guards this much-needed hibernation time each year, not letting phone or anything else wake me.

The Westies do their part in regenerating Mama Penny. Last night, I drifted to sleep with five little white dogs snuggled against me, in such a way to have maximum surface contact. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Thank you, my thoughtful husband, for protecting your wife in this loving way.

Free Fat Quarter Tag and Poem

Everywhere I have been reading of sewing or quilting news, the buzz is about people finishing Christmas gift projects and preparing to start new swaps, block of month patterns, challenges, round robins... you name it!

For the December meeting of my quilt guild that I could not attend at the last minute, I had made this little tag to go with the fat quarter I was bringing for a swap.

I wrote a little rhyme about fat quarters to go on the tag. (I've never written a poem, so I'm afraid to call it a poem! *grin*)

You are welcome to reprint this tag in another publication if you give me the proper credit. I would also appreciate you printing the link to this blog with the poem. Just let me know.

You can print it out on card stock or heavier paper.  Punch a hole in the end through which to place a ribbon. 

Glue the tag to a blank card to make a little note card or thank-you card.  Give them to your Guild members to enjoy. The possibilities are endless.

This free download is for personal, non-commercial uses only, please.

So, here it is for you to download, print, cut and enjoy: Download fat_quarter_tag.pdf

This is my little gift to you for making this such a fun and interesting year of blogging!

Idea for Honoring One's Family

Back in October , Gordon and I stopped to eat in Brookhaven MS. I forget now where we were headed.

We try to pick up a local newspaper wherever we stop because my uncle, "Unc", adores reading local daily or weekly newspapers from anywhere else.  He has an insatiably curious mind. 

The back page of the Daily Leader newspaper in Brookhaven featured this one page advertisement from Louis Mullen in honor of his grandparents!

I was so impressed with the content of the ad plus the honor it paid to that family's ancestors.

You can click on each picture to enlarge it enough to read most of the content.

There are times when newspaper advertising rates should be less expensive...for example, after a big holiday like Christmas and New Year.  Even in peak times, a local newspaper ad rates should not be prohibitive, so you might consider doing this for your family history.

Gordon and I love genealogy, so to us, this was a really cool idea.  It is another way to preserve and share family history.

In all of the speeches and workshops that we give on genealogical research, I emphasize ways to save one's research and primary source documents for future generations.

Don't you wish you could buy a copy of a newspaper and see a full page ad with documented genealogical information on one branch of your ancestors!

Southern Belle Skills for Dogs

You know the formula.  Female becomes helpless, requiring a rescue. She collapses against her rescuer to make him feel more manly.

You know you've done some form of this at some time in your life!  It is instinctive!

Lillibeth recently gave us a glimpse of the dog version of these Helpless Female Skills. (You can click on these photos to enlarge them and see Lillibeth's expressions.)

It started when my Uncle Charles (Unc) let Mackie follow him through the woods to the pond nearest the farmhouse - studio - Grandma's House. Eureka! A new Adventure Destination for one very active little Westie boy!

The next day, Mackie decided to show his favorite playmate Lillibeth this new fun place he had just discovered. Mackie and Lillibeth managed to slip away from our little pack and sneak off to the pond.

Lillibeth apparently swam by herself to the island in the pond, a distance of roughly 100 feet. We have to assume this because Mackie was not wet above his paws, and he was still on the shore when Gordon discovered the two run-aways.

Lillibeth might have been carried to the island on the back of a beaver or a turtle (ha!), both of which occupy this small 2.5-acre catfish pond. Common sense tells us that the smallest of our seven Westies swam the distance "all by her lonesome".

So, Gordon found the two Tom Sawyers after an exhaustive search around the farmhouse - studio - and Grandma's House. 

You may remember that it was love at first sight for Gordon and Lillibeth when we rescued eight Westies from a puppy mill on September 2nd of this year. They have a very, very special bond.

When Lillibeth saw her Favorite Fella Gordon across the water, she started crying and wailing and barking and begging to be rescued.  Gordon reacted as any good knight-in-shining-armor would. 

He ran back to the house to organize a boat rescue of his beloved little dog.

Once back at the pond, my uncle had to take the boat across to the island... alone, using a short little paddle he had made recently because he had misplaced the original paddles. (See it?  It looks more like a big spoon than a paddle! *giggle*)

When Gordon would not join him in the boat for the crossing, Unc had to paddle from the center of the boat, using that short little paddle to try to steer. That was apparently quite difficult to do.

Since we women-folk back at the farmhouse did not see this phase of the rescue, we can't say for sure, but from their separate descriptions, we have pictured something worthy of a Laurel and Hardy skit.

Once the rescue was underway, Miss Lillibeth settled down to watch the show, her wails and cries forgotten. As the boat reached the shore she did fall into the watery entrance of a beaver den, and she could not climb out or even cling to the grassy edge.

By the time Unc swooped her up and into the boat, she was thoroughly wet and cold.  She clung to him as he struggled to turn the boat around and paddle back to the shore with that one short little paddle.

The last picture is of a miracu- lously recovered Little Missy, attached to a leash because Unc did not trust her to stay in the boat. Lillibeth was getting closer to her beloved Gordon, and she forgot all about playing the clinging, shivering Damsel in Distress.

Her return to the farmhouse was met with hugs and kisses and lots of attention.  Then Gordon volunteered to give her a very necessary bath.

Lillibeth is the only one of our eleven dogs that Gordon actually bathes with real soap and water. Gordon helps me as I bathe one or two dogs every night in the shower as I, too, take a shower.

Gordon is a tremendous help by getting reluctant dogs in the shower with me and by toweling them dry afterwards. But  Lillibeth is his special little girl, and Gordon keeps her white and fluffy.

Miss Lillibeth emerged from her bath the day of the rescue, just pleased as punch to be the center of so much attention. Her look of smug confidence tipped me off that even little girl dogs can know the Secrets of Being a Successful Southern Belle.

We've had to impatiently wait for these pictures to be processed at the local Walmart. Gordon grabbed a 35mm film camera as he rushed back to the pond to his True Love with Four Legs.

I'm resigned to only being Gordon's True Love with Two Legs.  *wink*

An Idea for Those Christmas Cards

Isn't it frustrating when you are so tired after a long project, and you reach a point where you can get some rest... but you find you cannot relax enough TO rest?

Arrrgghh!  That is Gordon and me tonight.  The last of the pre-Christmas porcelain shipped out today, and I'm feeling super guilty about resting tonight! We humans can be so foolish!

While I snuggle with the Westies to absorb their restful mood, here is a photo (from last Christmas) of how we display Christmas cards to brighten my mother's days.

She looks at the pretty cards throughout the day, and she feels warmed by being remembered by these friends and family members.  We do this for her birthday cards or get well cards as well.

The hand pieced and hand quilted valances were made years ago by Mrs. Belle Bowen of Duck Hill, MS.  We hang them every Christmas.  The last few years, we have hung them in my mother's sitting area of the kitchen where she spends many hours a day. 

We're trying to keep the visuals changing every few weeks in her sitting area.  Changing Quilt calendar pictures (plus a Westie calendar and the National DAR calendar to display upcoming months), finished quilt blocks, changing valances with the seasons, this card show, feeding birds just outside the window... These are some of the ideas that have worked well in 2007 to keep her happy and stimulated at age 85.

I'm looking forward to blogging and sharing with you in the days ahead, now that I have a bit more time to write!  Time to sleep (if I can)!

Purple Heart Found in Trunk

Earlier this year, we were going through 76 years of accumulated family ephemera in my Grandmother's house... the one Gordon and I will move into if we ever finish with the renovation.

Gordon was moving a trunk, and he peeked inside. There at the top of the contents was this little black box with the words, "Purple Heart" hotstamped on the surface.

It was earned by my uncle, Clyde Dunn Hamer, who now lives in Pine Bluff, Arkansas.

Actually, there are two Purple Hearts represented in this little box.  If I understand correctly, the little bar in the fourth picture represents the second combat- related injury for which Uncle D earned a Purple Heart.

Uncle D was assigned as a replacement officer to Company A, 116th Infantry, 29th Division of the U.S. Army on the Allied front lines in October, 1944.   (If I have left out some of the official name of that unit, please let me know.)

His location was near or on the Roer River, just north of the area on the map that is considered the Battle of the Bulge... but he was involved in holding the Army's position at Aachen during the period that is called the Battle of the Bulge.

Here is ax excerpt of history of the 116th that Uncle D joined, riddled with losses after a trail of heavy fighting:

"Pinched out of line in August (1944), the 116th was sent to Brittany to reduce the Wehrmacht fortifications at Brest, chief port on the peninsula, and fanatically defended by Nazi paratroopers. This mission accomplished, the Division took off on a 200 mile move across France, Belgium and Holland to attack the vaunted Siegfried Line. They smashed through at Aachen and became the first allied Division to reach the Roer River, holding its position throughout the Battle of the Bulge to the South.

"In February of 1945 the 29th crossed the Roer and pushed on to the Rhine. On 02 May 45, the Blue & Gray made the historic link-up with Russian forces along the Elbe River. A few days later the war ended and the 29th counted its casualties; 19,814 killed, wounded and missing."

Uncle D stayed with the 116th until the war was over, and he returned home to the family farm in Mississippi in June, 1946.

Gordon found the medal in that trunk a few months back, and last week we sent the Purple Heart to one of Uncle D's daughters. She plans to have the medals framed in time for his birthday in February.

I'd love to hear Uncle D, now age 83, tell how he earned those Purple Hearts.

It was fun researching the Purple Heart tradition that has roots in the American Revolution, 1782. That is the image of George Washington on the face of the medal.

Here is some history of the medal.
Here is information about the Military Order of the Purple Heart.
Here is history of the 116th Infantry, now named the 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 29th Infantry Division.

Earlier this year, a cousin on the Sanford side of my family traveled to France to walk in her father's (my uncle) footsteps on D-Day and the following weeks.  What a deeply moving trip that must have been.

The last photo is of (from left), Clyde Dunn Hamer, Alice Elizabeth Hamer (my mother), and Charles Kelly Hamer (the uncle, "Unc", who lives here on the farm). I'm not sure whether this photo was taken before World War II or afterward.

Back to the porcelain deadlines.  Tonight is the last almost all-nighter before Christmas.

Gordon and I are rather run-down from the deadlines, as we are every year at this time.  But, you know, compared to Christmas in a war zone, this is a piece of cake!