The Long, Long Trailer

Did you ever watch the movie, The Long, Long Trailer with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz? The movie is about a couple who purchase a travel trailer and spend a year traveling around the United States, like Gary and I plan to do. Remember how Lucy collected rocks along the way and the trailer grew heavier and heavier until it became overloaded and dangerous to tow in the mountains? Well I have a confession to make, I'm afraid our motorhome is going to grow too heavy with pottery I collect on our travels. Why do I think that? Because I've already started collecting pottery and we haven't even left yet.


If you read my last post, you saw the first piece of pottery, the Seagrove Horsehair Pot, I collected as the traveling potter. I needed more packing boxes, so I just had to stop at the Discovery Shop again. And I just had to get this ceramic sculpture of a woman holding up a pot with her feet. There is something happy-go-lucky about the woman lying there. She's humorous, folksy, and primitive all rolled into one. Doesn't her cute striped sundress (similar to number four) remind you of those shift sundresses from the 1960's? She's made from an earthenware pottery without much grog since she is fairly smooth to the touch. The piece is 4.5 inches tall at the top of the pot, 8 inches long, and 2.25 inches wide. There's no name or mark that I can find anywhere on the piece. Her face reminds me of an illustration or a cartoon character I have seen before, but I can't quite place it. What do you think? Do you like her? I do. I see myself in this sculpture, lying there thinking, thinking about pots.


When Gary and I were first married I started making rock walls at our first house. There was an old hydraulic gold mining pit in Michigan Bluff about 15 miles from our home and there were literally millions of quartz boulders, free for the taking. A true bargain hunter at heart, I just couldn't pass up the free rocks. So on weekends I would take our Jeep with our little four foot dump trailer and I'd get a load of rock. I'd wear my leather gloves and load the rock into the trailer and bring them home and then I'd unload the rocks into rip rap rock walls I built all over our property in Foresthill. Gary started calling me, "the rock lady".


Just before Gary and I moved from that house, Gary brought home the movie, The Long, Long Trailer, and said I needed to watch it before we left. He was worried I was going to collect rocks along the way and overload the airstream trailer we had at the time. This time Gary doesn't have to worry about rocks, but he might have to worry about pottery. Up next I'll tell you about a near pottery packing disaster, so check back again for more tales from the, soon to be, traveling potter, Linda Starr.

Lea Stein

Is it just me, or is inspiration for ceramics literally everywhere. If you have been following along, you know we are packing. Afterwards we plan on traveling across the country in our motorhome looking for a new place to move and to set up my ceramics studio. While we've been packing I have come across lots of interesting books, curios, mementos, and now an interesting piece of jewelry.

I had completely forgotten about this lapel pin I purchased in an antique store in Hot Springs, Arkansas back in the mid 1990s. The second I saw the piece I loved it. This fox was made by the French jewelry designer, Lea Stein. Lea began her career in the fashion industry in the late 1950s and then in the mid 1960s, with the help of her chemist husband, they developed a process whereby they could laminate fabric in thin layers in a type of plastic called rhodoid.

Of course when I saw my fox pin again I was immediately attracted to the art deco style of the brooch and started thinking about how I could incorporate some of this style into my ceramics pieces. There is so much detail in the black and white and it reminds me of Kitty Shepherd's slip decoration work. I am not sure I would have the patience to do the work Kitty does, but the shape of this piece is attractive and classic and it had me thinking of line and form in ceramics design.


The reverse of the pin is stamped with Lea Stein and Paris and sports the distinctive "V" shape to the clasp. I don't wear much jewelry these days, but I think I should wear this pin the next time I have somewhere special to go. Up next I've found another piece of pottery you might get a kick out of, so come back again real soon.

Seagrove Horsehair Pot

The other day I met one of my customers for coffee so I could deliver a couple of ceramic pieces they requested. We had a nice visit and then we parted ways. As long as I was in Visalia I decided I might as well stop in at the Discovery Shop. These specialty resale stores are run by the American Cancer Society throughout California. I make a point to shop there whenever I can because purchases and donations help fund research to find cures for cancer.


I was browsing in the store and on a bottom shelf was a small pot which looked like horsehair pottery. I was intrigued and picked it up and it was, indeed, horsehair pottery. I decided I would purchase the pot since it was very small, about 3.5 inches tall and 2.25 inches wide, and the price was also very reasonable. If you are here for the first time, I'm moving and the last thing I need is something else to pack and move, so that's why I was glad the pot was so small. Finding items at reasonable prices is another reason I like to shop at the Discovery Shop.


As I was walking over to the counter to pay, I saw there was a business card inside the pot. I pulled the card out and it read, Turn and Burn Pottery, Seagrove, NC. I was surprised to find a pot from Seagrove in the Discovery Shop here in California. I guess you never know when or where your pottery will turn up. That's a good reason to be sure to sign your pots, and putting a business card inside doesn't hurt either.

I took three photos of the pot, since each side has a different look. When I got home I read horsehair pottery is a recent 20th century development and is attributed to Corrine Louis a third generation Native American potter of the Yellowcorn Clan of the Acoma Pueblo in New Mexico. In the late 1980's, by accident, Corrine's long hair came in contact with a hot piece of pottery and left a black mark of carbon and smoke on the clay surface. This coincidence ultimately led to the development of the horsehair technique. Horse hair, especially the coarse tail hair, leaves a very distinct visual mark on the pottery surface. Gee, my hair is really coarse, perhaps the next time I get a hair cut I'll save a little. Since Tracey Broome has a raku kiln I'm wondering if she plans on trying any horsehair pottery at her studio.

Good news, the closing date of our home has been moved up since all our inspections have been perfect. I'm packing like a mad woman because now we have less than two weeks and we're out of our home. Yikes! We'll visit a few friends on the West Coast and then head out on our travels across the country. So stay tuned, you won't want to miss a single post about the adventures of the traveling potter, Linda Starr (hey, that's me). I can't wait. I hope you'll come back and travel along with me, it should be fun.

Imagine a 1965 Scrapbook

Packing to move is a trip down memory lane every minute. I discovered my scrapbook from 1965. I was in the 8th or 9th grade and apparently I loved The Beatles. (Yeah, I just gave away my age. I'm older than you probably guessed, and, no, I don't dye my hair - not yet anyway). In the scrapbook I glued some Beatles cards with signatures so very long ago. Wonder if they are actual signatures and wonder if they are valuable? I keep hoping for the most valuable Antiques Roadshow find of the century. Of course they're valuable to me and they definitely bring back wonderful memories. I guess I was making scrapbooks long before they were popular like scrapbooks are today. (Was I ahead of my time?) As I was looking at the photos and cards of the Beatles, I started thinking of John Lennon and the song Imagine, one of my all time favorite songs.



The song Imagine has always symbolized hope and dreams to me: hope for peace, hope people will get along, hope people can respect others viewpoints, but also hope and dreams for the future. As you may know we are selling our home and we hope to find a better future for ourselves. There's a certain amount of risk involved. With risk there is danger and possible loss, but with risk there is also the possibility of improvement in the long run. Without hope and dreams I'm not sure anyone would attempt anything risky and without risk taking I'm not sure there would be any change or success.

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

I don't know if you can see it on my scrapbook page, but in the upper left hand side there is a pink elephant and I drew some musical notes coming out of his trunk. I think Gary Rith would appreciate my musical pink elephant. In about a month we, my husband, another Gary, and I, will head out into the world driving our motor home to see what we might find. We are looking for a new home, a new community, a new place to put down roots. I don't know what I will do without clay along the way, but I have a few ideas, like visiting museums and some ceramic artist's studios. I really wish I could visit my friend Cindy Shake in Alaska, but I am afraid we wouldn't make it to Alaska traveling in winter in a motor home. We plan to head South and East from here and some of the states we'll pass through or visit along the way are Arizona, possibly Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, maybe more, maybe less. I think my blog will soon become my 2009/2010 traveling scrapbook.


It will be difficult to travel with three cats, so we may have to board them, which will be hard for them (and us). Know of any good places for pets which don't cost an arm and a leg? Then there's health insurance we will need to purchase on the open market. What do you recommend for almost retirement age people, inexpensive would be good. I know that's an impossibility, but I can dream. Oh and computer access, we need a laptop or some way of staying in touch so we can post to this blog and keep you informed about our progress along the way. I know next to nothing about having Internet access while traveling, so chime in with any and all advice on this topic. Would I have the service through a cell phone?

How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Have you ever just packed up and moved with no destination in mind? If so, please tell me about it and give me any tips or advice. Let me know what you think about our upcoming adventure. I leave you with another clip from my scrapbook, a photo of Bob Dylan, another favorite of mine then and now. I'm sure there will be a few bumps along the way, but we can travel, like a rolling stone, imagine and hope for a better future.

Yellow Tabby Makes a Choice

Yellow Tabby as found with
pink and white flea collar

One day three years ago this month, I was weeding in the perennial border in the very early morning. The weather here is extremely hot and dry, so morning is the only time it's bearable to do any type of physical labor even in the month of September. At the back of the border were three marguerites, Argyranthemum frutescens, growing which were very large and dense, thick shrubs really. While I was weeding I heard a cat meow. I was rather startled since, at the time, both my cats, Binky and Betty, were indoor cats. I looked around and couldn't see a cat. Then I heard another meow. For some reason I couldn't quite isolate where the meow was coming from, it seemed to echo all around me.

Finally I located the meow coming from under one of the marguerites. I saw a huge, yellow tabby cat crouched there looking up at me. I could see in his eyes and his stance he was ready to run at any moment. I could tell he was waiting for me to show a sign whether I was friendly or whether I would chase him away. I spoke softly to him saying, "Good kitty, good kitty" over and over, at the same time I slowly squatted down so I would appear less threatening to the cat. Eventually the yellow tabby crept out and came up to me. I pet him for a while and then went back to my weeding.

After I finished weeding the cat followed me out to the patio. It was then that I got a good look at how tall the yellow tabby was. I also noticed the cat was quite skinny and his fur was dry and rough. The last thing we needed was another cat, but I thought I would bring some cat food outside by the patio and give him a little since he was so thin. I also noticed he was wearing a pink and white flea collar so I thought he must belong to someone in the neighborhood. I reasoned if I fed him by the patio, he wouldn't associate our house with food and he would return home, or, I would have time to locate his owner.

Yellow Tabby drinking from birdbath

Weeks went by and the yellow tabby was still there every morning, so, of course, I fed him each day. I asked around and no one had lost a cat and we didn't see any notices on the bulletin board in our little town about any lost cat. By this time both Gary and I had grown quite fond of the cat. I soon found out the cat felt the same way about us. If I walked somewhere on the property and the cat couldn't see me, I would hear him let out the loudest and most forlorn cry I think I have every heard from an animal. Meooooow, meoooow, meoooow, over and over and over again he would cry. Then I would call him, "Here kitty, kitty", and he would come running up to me from way across the property. He just couldn't stand to leave my side. I mentioned this to Gary and Gary said the cat would follow him every where he went too. If Gary went down to the barn, the next thing he knew the cat would come down there. So I said to Gary to be sure and call to the cat if he started to cry out with that forlorn meow like he did.

As winter drew near I decided to bring the yellow tabby in at night since it was getting really cold out. I also didn't want to risk him to a coyote, owl or bobcat. I wondered how the cat would get along with our other two cats, especially Binky. If you read the story about Binky's Stump you know that Binky is quite skittish and fearful, so I worried about that. The evening I brought the yellow tabby in and an amazing thing happened. Binky and the yellow tabby loved one another instantly. It was as if the new cat brought Binky out of his shell. Previously, Binky used to hide under the bed most of the time. Then when the yellow tabby came indoors, the two of them slept together, they groomed each other, they played together, and they got along famously. The yellow tabby and Betty, our other cat, didn't get along as well. Betty is very feisty and independent, so I knew Betty could take care of herself and would be OK.

Yellow Tabby grooming Binky

For about a month we had been trying to think of a name for the yellow tabby and just couldn't think of quite the right name. We wanted to name him a name that started with a "B" since our other two cats have names that start with a "B", but nothing we could think of seemed appealing. We thought of Bubba, Buster, Buddy, and none of the names we thought of seemed to suite the cat. We just kept calling him kitty in the hopes we'd think of a name we felt was the right one.

Look at the size of Butter
the window sill is 2 feet from the floor

That weekend we were out in the garden and happened to run into our neighbors who we never, ever saw. These particular neighbors were always gone on the weekend and during the week too. As we were chatting with them over the fence, we asked them if they happened to know anyone who had lost a cat. They said, "Well we haven't seen our cat, a yellow tabby, but he is a free spirit". Our hearts sank into our feet. Gary and I gave each other a glance and we both could have cried. We said, "Well he's been over here, we didn't know he was your cat". Our neighbors said, "He's not bothering you, is he?" We said, "Ohhhh, Nooooo, he's not bothering us at all". They said they let him go wherever he wanted. They also didn't seem to worry that he was over here or the fact that they hadn't seen him at all in two months. As we parted ways we asked them, "By the way what's his name?" They said, "His name is Butter". The second they said his name I knew the cat was meant to be ours. I also knew it was the perfect name for the yellow tabby, who was a sweet gentle giant.


Several more months more went by and all that time we worried that Butter wasn't our cat but was really our neighbor's cat. One day the same neighbors came over and saw Butter in our yard. They called to Butter but he ran the other way. As he ran away I said to them, "I didn't mean to take your cat" and they said "That's OK, as long as he is happy that's what's important". I finally felt relieved about Butter being at our house. Butter was officially part of our family. After about six months or so Butter quit meowing with that loud and forlorn meow if he didn't see us in the yard. Butter, the yellow tabby, has been with us for three years now. Amazingly since I first saw the big yellow tabby in the garden up to this very day, he has never returned to our neighbors house, not even once. Butter, the yellow tabby, is outside all day long and has never once walked the 20 or so feet to their yard, even though he is free to do so if he chooses.

The English Lakes

Time has gotten away from me and now there are things I wish I'd done. One of those things is reading more books. I've spent too much time away from books, much too much time, and now I regret it. As a child and young adult I was an avid reader. I read mostly novels, lots of mysteries and the popular top ten books of the day. Then life got in the way and reading all but drifted away. Actually the reading drifted away but the books didn't drift away from my book shelves. I've made a plan to remedy the reading part by pulling up a chair now and again and doing some reading. I also plan on reading more varied topics too, such as art, history, travel, and others.


While I've been packing I've been discovering books I wanted to read tucked away here and there which I never picked up. Today I found The English Lakes written by William T. Palmer and illustrated by A. Heaton Cooper among my ceramics books. I don't think I intended to actually read this book, but I was attracted to the wonderful watercolor landscapes plates, 31 color illustrations, which are included in the book. Edwardian and Victorian descriptions of the Lakes District in England are detailed.

The Old Ferry, Windermere

Swan Hotel, Newby Bridge, Windermere

The book was originally published in 1905, but my edition is from 1945. On the inside cover is written in ink "with Best Wishes, from Muriel, May 7, 1945". Apparently Muriel purchased the book as a gift for someone that year. Interestingly when I open the book the sweet smell of a woman's perfume emanates from the pages. If I were a perfumer I dare say I could identify the fragrance. I like to think of it as a fragrance from 1945. The essential oil content would have to be very high to last that long.

Grasmere Church

I was surprised to learn about Heaton Cooper Studio is still in existence today in the village of Grasmere in the heart of the English Lakes District. There is a gallery and an art shop which continues to be run by family members to this day. Here's a list and description of the family artists which you can read.

Grange in Borrowdale

There is a Lakes District National Park and I couldn't help but think of my friends, Kitty Shepherd and Peter Gregory, wondering what knowledge they might have about the lakes. I think this would be a wonderful place to take a vacation. Stay tuned for a never ending variety of topics which seem to be forthcoming of their own accord here on my blog. Have a good weekend.

Binky's Stump

In 1998 Gary and I lived near Lake McCumber near Lassen National Park in Northern California. A short time after we moved there, we decided to get a cat. We brought home a male gray tabby kitten and named him Binky. He was a feisty and gregarious cat. Since we both worked outside the home, a month or so later we decided to get a female cat to keep Binky company while we were at work. That's how our cat, Betty, came to join us. Binky and Betty would play outside during the day and we would bring them in the house at night to protect them from predators like owl and fox. They played and hunted squirrels and chipmunks together and had a grand old time.

One day when we got home we called Binky and Betty like we usually did and Betty came running, but no Binky. We walked all around the area and Binky was no where to be found. Then we got in our car and drove around the neighborhood with the windows rolled down calling and calling for Binky, still no Binky. Finally it was dark and we still hadn't found Binky. The next morning I ran outside first thing to see if Binky was there and he still was no where to be found. A few days went by and still there was no sign of Binky. We asked all the neighbors and no one had seen Binky. We put notices up saying lost cat with our phone number, but no one called us to say they had seen our cat.

A few days later it started to snow. It was the middle of October and once it started to snow it didn't stop and didn't melt at the 4500 foot elevation where we lived till the next Spring. It kept snowing and snowing and a couple of weeks went by and still no Binky. Every day when I would drive to work, I would drive through the neighborhood with my windows down calling Binky. But I never saw Binky. By that time I had all but given up hope of ever finding Binky. I figured Binky couldn't find his way back home with all the snow on the ground.

A month passed and we had resigned ourselves that we wouldn't find Binky. We figured Binky had been eaten by a fox or an owl. By that time the snow was about a foot deep and it was cold especially at night. One weekend we decided to go to the Ponderosa Pines restaurant just down the road from us for breakfast. After we'd finished most of our breakfast we began reading the Redding newspaper left there by another patron. As I glanced through the paper I saw an animal shelter ad telling of a cat for adoption. I exclaimed loudly, "It's Binky, it's Binky!" Everyone in the restaurant looked up. Gary grabbed the newspaper to look for himself. The ad was in black and white but it did look like Binky.

We read in the paper the shelter closed at noon on Saturday and it was already late. I said to Gary, "Quick, lets leave right now and drive down there before they close". Gary said he didn't think we'd make it in time, but we could try. It was 45 miles to Redding from where we were down the mountain. Gary said, "Can I finish my breakfast?". I said, "No, this is important, lets leave now". We drove as fast as we could down the mountain to the shelter.

Once we got to the shelter we had to register to see the animals up for adoption before we could go in, we could hardly contain ourselves. Finally we ran up to the cage where the cat was and called, "Binky, Binky". The cat looked almost like Binky, down to the same coloring and everything, but the cat just blinked at us and it wasn't Binky. For a moment I was almost fooled thinking it was Binky. It could have been Binky's brother, but it wasn't Binky. We were so disappointed. We went out to our car and I cried a little since I had gotten my hopes up.

I told Gary I felt like Binky was still alive out there. Gary said I was just being foolish and putting myself through needless suffering looking for Binky. But I just couldn't give up hope for some reason. I talked Gary into going to the local Kinko's print shop while we were in Redding. I had the newspaper clipping of the cat enlarged and printed on posters. We didn't have a camera at the time and so we had no photos of Binky. We had ten posters printed up with the enlargement of the cat from the newspaper and wrote a message below about Binky being lost with our phone number. Then we had the posters laminated since it was wet and snowy. We drove back up to the mountains and hung the posters all over the neighborhood and we waited.

At the time Gary worked from 7 am to 3:30 p.m. and I worked from 2 p.m. to 10 p.m. so we only saw each other on weekends. Two weeks went by and one evening I was at work and the phone rang and Gary said he had found Binky. Gary said a woman named Shannon had called and said "I saw your cat Binky sitting on a tree stump in the woods but when I called him he ran away". She said, "I know it was your cat because he looked just like the cat on the poster". She said, "Hurry, because I had to drive to my home before I could call you and I live seven miles from the lake where I saw him". Gary said he ran out of the house and drove like crazy to where Shannon had seen the cat. Gary said he walked into the woods and saw Binky sitting up on the same tree stump. Gary said he called, "Binky" and Binky came running to him.

I left work early that day to go home and see Binky. When I got home I picked up Binky and he was skin and bones. Binky had lost almost half of his body weight. His nose and feet were frost bitten and he could hardly walk. He also seemed like he could barely see, possibly from snow blindness. I slept with Binky on the couch that night and carried him to his food and his litter box and back to the couch again. Binky smelled like fabric softener. I figured he had stayed outside someones dryer vent to keep warm.


The next day I called the vet to ask what I could do for Binky. The vet said he might have major organ damage from starvation and all I could do was feed him and give him lots of water and hope his kidneys and other organs were OK. Then we realized we had no way of thanking Shannon, the woman who had called us to tell us where Binky was. Gary had rushed out the house so quickly he didn't get her phone number. All we knew was that she parked near the lake and hiked around the lake each day.


Later that summer I was driving to work late one morning and I saw a woman walking along the road alone. I pulled up alongside her and rolled down my window and said, "Are you Shannon?" She said, "Why" looking rather suspiciously at me. Somehow I knew she was Shannon and I said, "Because you called us and told us about our cat Binky and I want to thank you so very much". Shannon exclaimed, "Oh I am so happy, I never knew if you got your cat back or not because he ran away from me and I had to drive seven miles to my home before I could call you." I told Shannon how Gary had driven to the exact spot she had described and how Binky was again sitting on the stump and ran up to Gary when he called him. I also told Shannon she had saved Binky's life because he was almost dead.

Shannon relayed how she had called several folks up in the mountains about their lost dogs and always wondered whether they had gotten them back. I said I was so thankful to her for calling because a lot of folks don't take the time, especially for cats, thinking they are stray or can fend for themselves. Shannon said, "I am so happy you got your cat back; I just knew it was your cat because he looked just like his photo on the poster". I said, "Yes he does, doesn't he!"


While we lived at Lake McCumber every time we drove by the place where Gary found Binky, we would always say to each other, "There's Binky's stump!" I've kept the newspaper clipping of the cat in my wallet all this time. It's been about ten years since Binky was lost. As you can see Binky isn't starving any longer, he made up for lost time in that regard. To this day Binky is scared of loud noises and runs if you pick up anything like a broom or package, but he is the sweetest cat you could ever know. We've moved a couple of times since then, but one time a few years ago Gary and I made a trip up to Lake McCumber and as we drove by the area Gary pointed out Binky's stump to me again.

Some Old Pots

Altered Coil Vase by Linda Starr
10 x 5.5 x 5

Today I'm in a reflective mood because of the date in history, but also because of moving and the future. While packing up my studio I came across some old stoneware pots I made years ago, a couple of coiled pots and a small hand built tray. I purposefully squeezed the vase above after I made it and then added the drooping handles. The handles look like cinch strings; I like that idea. The pot will not hold water and the glaze crawled but it was one of the first coiled pieces I ever made and glazed.

Textured Coiled Pot by Linda Starr
5.5 x 5 x 5

I became a bit nostalgic thinking that my pot making was a lot more free back then than it is now. Back then I wasn't thinking of how the pot would turn out or what it would look like in the end, I was just engrossed in the making. This coiled pot will hold water, but the glaze had a lot of debris in it which stuck to the outside of the pot. The glazes at the college classroom always seemed to be contaminated. Each pot I made was a learning experience. I started making my own glazes, sieving them and washing my pots before glazing them.

Small Tray by Linda Starr
3 x 5.5 x 5

I really love the glaze on this hand built tray, it's called celery. No one at the college had the recipe for the glaze; there was just a small bucket in the classroom, gone many years ago. If you have the recipe I would love to have it. This cone 10 glaze is perfect for a stoneware clay; it's a beautiful light colored matt and breaks to a warm brown on the edges. I use this little tray to hold spools of thread when I'm doing a bit of sewing.

I think it's good for me to look back at some old work, to see where I have been, where I am now, and where I might be going. I'm just itching to make a few pots today, but alas, for now it's back to packing, have a good weekend.

Ellis Island Discovery

Gary's grandfather, William Kankaala, immigrated to America from Finland via Ellis Island and worked as a carpenter all his life. We've kept this string line he made as a family memento. Although this is a plain piece of wood roughly made it has lasted at least two lifetimes serving it's purpose well. I like to feel the cotton string. It is twisted very tight and must be made of a high quality cotton to have lasted this long.

While I was looking at the Ellis Island site I discovered there is a search anyone can do for relatives who may have traveled to America via Ellis Island. If you locate your relative, you can bring up the actual ship manifest, a photo of the ship, and the passenger record. I became totally engrossed with searching for Gary's grandparents through the site. I quickly found a record of his paternal grandparents arrival and then found a record of his maternal grandparents.

Now I want to check with my mom to see if I can find out some information about my own maternal grandparents. Even if you don't have a relative who traveled to America via Ellis Island, this site is worth perusing just to see the ship's manifest and photos of the ships. There is even a search you can do for famous people who immigrated to America. You can also order a copy of the passenger record, the ship's manifest and a photo of the ship. I am having so much fun researching this site.

There's a lot of history to be discovered with a bit of research. Be sure to look at the Ellis Island site and read about the restoration of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Little did I know a simple carpenter's string line would lead me to discover so much about family history.

Butterfly Tray

Moving is a pain the neck, but sometimes there are little rewards along the way which make it all worth while. Here's a butterfly tray which Gary's mother, Ellen, loved. We've kept the tray through the years. The tray dates from the 1920s and may have been made in Brazil where vibrant winged butterflies are numerous. I can't imagine having the patience to make such a tray, painstakingly laying down each butterfly wing in this intricate pattern. The wings are then covered with glass to protect them and a wooden tray with parquetry is added as a surround. Stay tuned for more hidden treasures we have yet to discover.

Chestnut Leaf Tray

Gary and I have moved about five times during our marriage and each time we move I've had to part with one collection or another. I'm a collector, sometimes I just can't pass things up. Some of the partings were easy and others not so easy. Some of the things I parted with I later regretted. This tray is one item I've never let go. It's been in several yard sales, but for some reason no one wanted it or if they picked it up I always said it wasn't for sale. That's what I said today.

The edge of the tray is pewter and the tray itself is porcelain, perhaps metal coated porcelain. I love the design with the leaves and seed pods. I'm not sure how it was made or how old it is but I really like it. It has a number on the reverse but no signature. Since I've lived in California most of my life, I always thought the leaves were buckeye, but now I think they may be chestnut leaves and seed pods. If you know any thing about the tray please let me know.

Labor of Love Slate Floor

In honor of Labor Day, I thought I'd tell you about a home improvement project that was a labor of love for more reasons than one. If you've ever done any remodeling, you know it's really hard making choices. There are so many materials to choose from. When we were ready to remodel our living room some time ago we thought about putting in tile. Since we live in a very warm climate and are in and out of the house, solid surface flooring seemed like a good choice rather than carpet. We also thought it would be easier to maintain and keep clean especially since we have three cats. We must have looked at every type of tile and just couldn't make a choice.

Then I remembered years ago my brother, Larry, put a random slate floor in his home and I had always admired his choice. So we decided to look at some slate, once we did, it was too hard to pass up. I wondered if we could handle the project, but I figured if my brother could do it, so could we. Sometimes a sibling who is no longer around can still have an influence on your life. Larry passed away nine years ago at an early age. His sudden and unexpected passing was a great shock to our family at the time. Gee, now that I'm thinking about it, I guess it still is a shock. Larry was only 45 when he died from what they called sudden death, where the heart just stops for no reason. Now that some time has passed, though, I can also think about the pleasant memories of Larry, like all the times he took me fishing to his favorite fishing spots.

I've always liked natural stone; it's so beautiful with all it's variations in color and texture. I decided to purchase slate already cut into squares because labor costs would be significantly less since there would be no custom fitting of random shaped pieces and it would also be easier to lay. When I figured out the cost of slate and compared it to the cost of the tile I happened to like, it wasn't that much more expensive. I also ordered 16 inch slate tiles rather than 12 inch slate tiles. The floor has less grout lines and looks less busy with larger slate tiles. In a smaller room larger tiles might be too big. I intended to do the preliminary work that was necessary before laying the slate floor myself to cut labor installation cost.


The slate we chose is called Indian multi, which is quarried in India. We measured our living room floor and gave those measurements to the tile store and they ordered the slate for us. Normally you order 10 percent additional slate because natural stone sometimes has inclusions (imperfections) and if they are too rough you may not want to use them. If you order natural stone or tile, be sure to check the boxes to make sure there aren't any broken tiles. We had a couple and the tile store ordered some replacements for us.


The first thing to check is the level of the floor where you will put the tile. Since slate is a natural stone, if the floor isn't laid level it may crack under pressure when something heavy is placed on it. We have a concrete slab foundation but even that wasn't completely level. There is a material you can purchase that is a liquid concrete floor leveler. You pour it out and it seeks it's own level and then you lightly trowel it around and feather the edges. Then you wait for that to dry thoroughly.


There's our cat, Butter, checking our work. In the meantime you take all the slate out of the boxes and lay it out to examine it. We laid the slate out on our driveway. Set aside any tiles of slate that are too rough or have inclusions. Make sure the number of pieces of slate you have left are enough to cover the whole floor with at least five additional ones. The five additional ones are in case any break during installation. Ideally you will still have a few left over in case there is a problem years down the road and you need to remove one tile. Hopefully you'll have a couple left over so they are from the same vein of slate that was mined.


Then get out your hose and wash down the slate several times. Since the slate comes directly from the quarry and then is cut at the manufacturing plant, there is a fine dust on the slate. Get all the dust off the front and back of the slate. Then take a scrub brush and scrub each tile of slate. Let the slate dry thoroughly on both the front and back. Be careful not to drop the slate on the concrete as it is brittle and may break in half. After you wash the slate you can then see the true color of each slate tile. Next each tile of slate should be painted with a grout release liquid. Slate is porous and the grout and grout haze is easier to remove with the application of the agent. Let the slate dry after application.


Our cat, Betty, is making sure our work passes muster. Now take some of the slate inside and do a dry run in two directions on the floor to see how the slate will look in the room. Don't omit this important step. There are a few things to consider when doing the dry run. Normally you want full tiles as you enter a room, not half or smaller pieces at the entrance. You also don't want to have pieces of tile that are so small at the edge or end of a run that it's only an inch or two. That would be too hard to cut and lay, and wouldn't look pleasing to the eye. Be sure to check to see what size tile will end up at the edge of the whole room.


Many tile layers start in the middle of the room or the middle of the wall for a bathroom. The tile layer lays a chalk line in one direction and the other and lays the first four tiles in the middle at the corner of the chalk line. I've found that this isn't always the best layout. And, as it turns out, for my living room I used an alternate layout. With the dry run I figured out I would need to use a 12 inch width of slate tile on two sides of the room which would mean I couldn't use the left over piece of tile, since it would be too narrow to look good. Since I was paying for each piece of slate I wanted to minimize this waste. By laying the first tile centered in the middle of the room, and putting a four inch border around the room, I saved myself the cost of 12 additional tiles. Three, four inch sections could be cut from one tile.

I had the smaller border pieces laid by centering them on the grout line of the larger tile and the corners were mitered. If you have ever done any quilting, you'll recognize this border as being similar to a quilt border. Sometimes sewing experience can be applied to home improvement projects. At the time the tile layer thought I was crazy and causing extra work, but when the floor was finished he agreed it looked good that way. The border ties the whole room together and doesn't look out of place at all. When you're doing your dry run layout remember to include the grout width in your calculations. For slate the grout width I used was 1/2 inch. This sounds large but sometimes natural stone tiles have a variance and you need to allow for some give and take. Once you figure out your layout, you can snap your chalk lines on the floor as a guide to laying the slate tiles.


Next I laid all the slate tiles out on the driveway and put them in the preference I wanted them laid to ensure random colors. Lots of tile layers will just grab the tiles from a couple of different boxes to randomize the installation, but I found with the slate there were many more gray tiles and I didn't want a bunch of dark gray slate tiles all together. Some of the tiles were orange, gold, beige, gray, dark gray, metallic, blue gray, etc.

Slate needs a nice thick bed of thin set since even with cut slate tiles there is variation in the depth of the slate. Mix the thin set according to the manufacturers directions. I do not recommend using premixed thin set and definitely do not use mastic. Ask the tile store what size notched trowel to use for laying slate. Once you begin laying the slate tile, be sure to check the level of the slate as you lay each one. If one slate tile is too low, immediately pull it up and back butter (add some more thin set to the back of the tile)the tile with more thin set to bring up the level. You don't want to be stubbing your toe on an uneven surface.


Once you get the slate laid, let it set up for a couple of days and then put in the grout. Since slate is porous it may absorb some of the color of the grout. This is where the grout release you put on the slate earlier comes in handy. While putting in the grout, try to keep as much off the slate tile as possible as this minimizes clean up later. When the grout is set up to touch clean off most of the grout by wiping with a tile sponge perpendicular to the grout line.


Now let the grout dry completely for a couple of days. Now it's time to get the slated cleaned up. Take a tile sponge and a bucket of water and start cleaning the slate off, rinsing your sponge very often. You'll also have to refresh your bucket of water with clean water very often. This part is real tedious and it will take many buckets of water to wash and re wash the slate to remove the dusky appearance or what they call the grout haze. Be sure to clean the slate really well so the color of the slate will show. You don't want any of grout haze left on the slate. If there are crevices in the slate where grout adhered you may have to use a fingernail brush to clean the grout out. Then let the slate dry thoroughly for a few days and you are ready to apply your sealer. I chose to use only one coat of sealer. If two coats are used the slate will be shinier. The sealer does darken the slate a bit, but it also protects the slate and grout from any future spills.


Since we're moving, we're having a yard sale this weekend, trying to reduce the amount of items we have to pack and move. Have a great holiday weekend.

What's For Lunch

It seems praying mantis are turning up everywhere these days. I was so surprised the other day when I saw Mark and Meredith Heywood of Whynot Pottery's post because not only did they show some beautiful pots from their recent kiln opening, but they also had some great photos of a couple of praying mantis. That same day I was watering my garlic and a praying mantis caught a honeybee and was in the process of eating him. I would never suspect a mantis would eat a honeybee. Today when I watered the garlic the praying mantis was still there. I guess he doesn't have to wonder what's for lunch.