Thursday, 1 May 2014

Meet Black Smith - Eh Day at Myrtleville


Meet Black Smith, the blacksmith at Myrtleville House Museum. Smith has been working in the forge for the last couple of years, making tools and trinkets for the community. Blacksmithing is the craft of using extreme heat and heavy hand tools to make iron into things from nails and hooks to knives, cutlery, and other useful tools. 


Here is Smith in his natural habitat: by the blistering heat of a coke oven forge.


Smith enjoys the meditative nature of his job: the swing of the hammer, the sizzle of the red iron as it quenches in water, the crackle of the kindling. Smith is the crafty type, and you'll often see him in contemplation about the important things in life and his own life's ambitions.


For Smith, both of those things are pancakes.


Smith has a bit of a problem with pancakes, actually...

Smith concocts clever (and not so clever) schemes to steal Lumber Jack's pancakes so he can get a second helping. Once he created a scale macaroni model of a moose being crushed by a tree and put it in the window for Lumber Jack to see - when Jack leapt up to the rescue, Smith filched his flapjacks. Once Smith just yelled "Hey, look over there!" and got hold of Jack's shortstack AND thick-cut maple bacon. On that day, Jack declared Smith a public menace and his official nemesis.




Like that'll stop Smith.


See Lumber Jack and Black Smith at Eh Day on May 17th, 10am-2pm at Myrtleville House Museum, and make sure to eat your pancakes before Smith gets them!

Monday, 28 April 2014

Meet Lumber Jack - Eh Day at Myrtleville


Meet Lumber Jack, the hard-working lumberjack from Myrtleville House Museum. Jack uses hand tools such as axes, hatchets, and different types of saws to fell trees in the wilderness. Lumberjacking (or "Logging") was a very dangerous job since workers used sharp hand tools, worked in hinterland conditions, and were regularly surrounded by falling trees weighing hundreds of pounds. Like regular humans, lumberjacks are quite crushable.


Here is Jack, having just stomped a 115ft Black Walnut tree to a stump. 



During working days Jack can be found wandering through the wilderness. In addition to his duties as a lumberjack, he takes part in many traditional hinterland activities, such as scavenging for fruits, berries, nuts, and mushrooms, tapping sugar maples, whittling tools and items to use around the house, and hunting for the Southwest Ontario Sasquatch.


Walking through the many lovely forests, trails, and riverbanks in our community affords Jack some wonderful solitude to sit among the rushes and shrubs, surrounded by the many small woodland animals, birds, and insects, and contemplate the important things in life. 


Mostly pancakes and bacon.


Awwww, bacon.


Join us on May 17th to meet Lumber Jack and take part in our Lumberjack Photo Booth! Watch our blog for an introduction to Lumber Jack's nemesis, The Black Smith.


Tuesday, 22 April 2014

Eh Day!

So here's the story: We were starting to plan an event. 

We wanted something that fuelled people's imaginations, like zombies or pirates, but something that was closer to our hearts (and our service areas of Brantford, Brant County, Six Nations, and New Credit.) 

One of us thought about Wade Hemsworth, Brantford-born Canadian folk musician and writer of the esteemed and catchy (see: earwormLog Driver's Waltz. One thing led to another, and after some exuberant brainstorming and a round of high-fives, we had a laundry list of requirements for our celebration: Lumberjacks, pancakes, beards, plaid, bacon, folk music & dancing, and community spirit & togetherness.

The Brant Historical Society, in partnership with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Grand Erie, is proud to present Eh Day: A celebration of Canadiana and pride in our local history and heritage! Stay tuned to the blog, our Facebook, and Twitter for more information including a schedule of events, Canadian Craft ideas, Beard Compatition Registration info, and an introduction to Lumber Jack & Black Smith, our Eh Day mascots.




Friday, 23 August 2013

The Creepy Baby

Woohoo! 800 likes!

As promised, we've put together a special post for our 800 followers. Introducing: Creepy Baby.

Terrifying!!

The artefact is a baby doll made from wood and plaster, with painted-on features. It has been dressed in a cotton sleep set, and....

ok. We're sorry, it's just ridiculously creepy. We actually had to draw straws to decide which one of us had to pick her up to find her identification number. We had to get the least superstitious person to take the picture so the doll wouldn't steal anybody's soul. It's just a creepy, creepy baby.

We don't actually know anything about this doll except a bit about its composition. Its facial features have been painted on, in what we can only assume was a deliberate attempt to make it look menacing, and that someone took great care to sculpt its bottom, which is remarkable considering it would likely be covered by clothing most of the time. The item has found a home in the Brant Cradle which typically lives in our Edwardian Bedroom exhibit, fascinating and terrifying visitors and employees alike.

We've had a few visitors mention hearing the laughter of a little girl while touring upstairs despite the fact that there are no children in the museum. Some employees swear up and down that the place is haunted, and that it's this doll who's responsible. Because we don't know where she came from, our popular mythology is that she just mysteriously appeared in the museum one day, found a place in one of the higher-visibility displays, and has been nightmare fuel ever since.

We're putting together a social media series involving creepy baby. That'll be starting shortly, but in the meantime we've put together a lil .gif to keep everyone entertained. Enjoy!!





Mamie's Letter

Mamie's letter in full, with the transcriptions at the bottom of the page.















Page 1
Paris, Ontario,  Aug  1921

Dear Mamie,
In the first place, I’d like to know if I made a mistake or not in saying “Dear Mamie” and then if I spelt “Mamie” right.
I suppose you still think I went to the Allen on purpose Saturday night to meet you, but I didn’t. I went with Charlie to see Harold Pearcy.
Say, your cousin Durnham told me something about you that makes me think a lot better about you.
This is a great place up here and I am having a great time. Last night we had a picnic about 20 of us, old ladies and all and a friend of mine invited me. We played baseball and football and after lunch went up the river on a bicycle boat which can be hired out. We had smores too, and I certainly had a good time. This place up here is much (over)


Page 2
Like Whiteman’s Creek, only the creek is practically a river.
I’d like you to see some of the big black bass I caught up here.
The threshers were up at the neighbour’s farm to-day and I had to pitch hay and managed to get my eyes full so I don’t think I’d make a very good farmer.
So Charlie said he was going to fix up a bogus letter and send it to you and sign my name so as to get you mad at me so if you get an extra letter you’ll know that one is a fake.
I suppose you go over on the commons every night with Ron Fraser or Barney.
Are you still mad at Joe or is it he that is mad at you
Say, the next time I ask you to go to the show with me I expect you to go and not say you can’t.


Page 3
Like you did that night at the carnival.
I think Joe is waiting for Amy to come back to take her. Is she back yet? Have I spelt Amy right? It’s the first time I ever heard of such a name.
Gosh, but it’s lonesome up here at night to sit and hear the crickets sing and that’s when I wish I was  back home having some fun on the commons with you.
I bet your chickens are all dead by now because you fed them as well.
Have you read that Buffalo Bill story I gave you? It’s a (lob) of bull isn’t it.
I think it was mean of you to take that cigarette I had Saturday night because I haven’t had a smoke since.


Page 4
because you can’t buy any smokes out here except tobacco which is strong enough to kill a horse, so I might as well tell you that I’ve quit smoking.
Say, do you like bees, well if you do there is loads of them up here. It was just today that my uncle was cutting weeds when he disturbed a nest of humble bees and one stung him on the forehead.
Gee but this a great life if you don’t weaken I don’t think I’ve done anything yet but go fishing.
It’s going to eleven o’clock now and I intend to get up at five in the morning to go fishing so I think


Page 5
I’ll get to bed. It’s getting warmer. Isn’t it.
If this letter don’t reach you alone then I’ll say it with flowers. Don’t let anyone else see this letter not that there is anything in it but please don’t. But I’ll know you’ll be stubborn and do just the opposite and don’t forget to write back to me as your letter will give me a chance to spend more time
Here’s my address
Joe Ion
c/o Michael Collins
Paris, Ont.
Be sure and address it right.
Well I guess I’ll jump off here
(over)


Page 6
Because I’ve got to get up early in the morning so good-bye for this time.
I remain,
Your  ____________________
Joe

P.S. I don’t know what to put in after your please let me know.
I love the cows and chickens But that isn’t the life for me.
Goodbye.
Please excuse the writing, paper, ink, scratching, blots, holes, dirt, etc. but it’s the I could find. Let’s Go.
Hot Dog




Thursday, 22 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 6

Because I’ve got to get up early in the morning so good-bye for this time.
I remain,
Your  ____________________
Joe

P.S. I don’t know what to put in after your please let me know.
I love the cows and chickens But that isn’t the life for me.
Goodbye.
Please excuse the writing, paper, ink, scratching, blots, holes, dirt, etc. but it’s the I could find. Let’s Go.
Hot Dog
Adorable.

We found a few Joe/Joseph/John Ions who were from the area at around the same time, but didn't find any real conclusive matches for this particular Joe. The closest we found was a Sgt. Joseph Ion who married during WWII and was listed as being from Paris or Brantford. Our Joe would likely be nearly 40 during the second world war: it is not outside the realm of possibility that it is the same Joseph Ion, but unfortunately we couldn't find conclusive evidence, such as an age at the time of marriage.

We researched a few of the other names contained in the letter: Joe and Mamie's friends, and Joe's uncle, Michael Collins, but all had such common first and last names and we know so little about these folks that finding matches and more information was difficult.

Mamie, or Clara May Woodard, lived at her home on Sheridan Street with her brother Gordon. She had a second brother named Blake, and lost her father and mother in 1936 and 1945 respectively. Mamie never married and didn't have any children, but as her obituary from the year 2000 states, she would be missed by her cousins and her friends.

These items were donated in 2010, when they were discovered by the then-current occupants of the home, who had found them in a box in the attic along with several other documents.

Hot Dog.



Monday, 19 August 2013

Mamie's Letter - Page 5

(From last page: "It’s going to eleven o’clock now and I intend to get up at five in the morning to go fishing so I think")
I’ll get to bed. It’s getting warmer. Isn’t it.
If this letter don’t reach you alive then I’ll say it with flowers. Don’t let anyone else see this letter not that there is anything in it but please don’t. But I’ll know you’ll be stubborn and do just the opposite and don’t forget to write back to me as your letter will give me a chance to spend more time
Here’s my address
Joe Ion
c/o Michael Collins
Paris, Ont.
Be sure and address it right.
Well I guess I’ll jump off here
(over)
We did some research about "I'll say it with flowers". It's a popular enough saying, but we couldn't find reason why he'd mention that in such a non sequitor fashion. Maybe it was a song lyric or a film title that was popular at the time, but we couldn't dig up any reference. It may be an inside joke!

One last thought before we post the 6th and final page of the letter: "Don't let anyone else see this letter..." ... Oops.