The Barn - Part 3 (Recordings)

In the barn two lovely discoveries were made. The first, by C, was a group of film rolls including my first Christmas, Easter and my christening (which I think was at a Lutheran church, but I’m not certain about that, as I don’t remember it). I can’t wait to find the necessary apparatus to watch them.

Second was a vinyl record that bunked up with a record in the case of a country singer from the 60’s. It fell out as I was going through the records in a box my grandparents have in the barn. The label says “The Simms, McKenzie and Taconis families” and is dated Nov. 27^th ’38. This means my grandma B was 2 years old when her parents, with her aunt and said aunt’s first husband, and likely some friends of theirs made this recording. I can’t wait to find out what’s on it. I’m hoping its them singing Christmas songs or something ridiculous...but who knows. 

The Barn - Part 2 (Heirloom Painting)

Disclaimer: *I wrote this post and then decided I’d better check my facts with M before I call her grandmother and my great-grandmother nuts. I should rephrase ‘nuts’ as ‘slightly delusional in her old age’ or ‘incredibly gullible and non-analytical’ or ‘overly sentimental and persuaded by her own version of reality’ – nuts is a much shorter descriptor.*

This last visit to the barn I claimed a picture that has moved between barn locations, perhaps for the entire time my family has lived in W. The picture has some water damage. I love the frame. I’ve seen it dust and spider covered in a corner of the barn for years. For the first time I turned it over on Saturday. On the cardboard backing, my Nana wrote the following:

Walden

July 4, 1982

To our beloved Carrie, Bill and Kristen Elizabeth

             
This lovely New England Harbor scene was painted for Granddaddy’s father (James Thomas Simms) as a gift to Jim’s mother (Lillian Josephine Gregg Simms) when they were first married.

             
Hope you will enjoy it as much as we have.

Love always,

Nana and Granddaddy

Here is the painting, now hanging in my apartment.

I have several questions, which I hope further research will solve. Number one, the image in this frame is a print not a painting. Number two, there is no artist signature and the backing is not in great shape, so easily taking it out to see if a signature is just out of sight is problematic. Number three, if my great-great-grandfather did commission this painting, where is it now and why did they have a print of it?

Not to accuse her of getting confused or anything...okay, that is exactly what I am doing, but reading what she wrote – that we will enjoy it as much as they have...how long did they have this print for?

 J, you are the art historian, is there a way to find it? Not to be a snot, but I think it is entertaining beyond hilarious to see how ridiculous older relatives sometimes are. I’m willing to be wrong but I’m about 99% sure Nana was simply confused. Perhaps the painting was some how connected to Granddaddy's family, like they lived in the town where it was painted, but it is clearly a print and not a painting. From her note, she may have had a hard time distinguishing between the two. As M text me “Nana loved a good story and believed everything she heard”...sounds like my grandma, who will be highlighted in a post later this week, involving another barn discovery.

 It is a great story, sham family heirloom contrived by sentimental mind.  Some legit stuff was also past on, which might lead others (like my grandmother) to believe ALL the stories Nana shared, but this is how false history is constructed people, by ladies like my Nana (who I do remember with great fondness for all her quirks).

One of my favorite stories about her involved the throngs of owl items. Owl candles, owls on top of magnifying glasses, owl wood carvings. The lady really like owls, she was decades ahead of the current cutesy owl trend. She also had a plethora of mischievous grandsons who would move her owls to different places to annoy her. One day she asked them not to move them because it "hurt her heart" to have them out of place. If you could hear her voice, she was such a hoot.

The Barn - Part 1

There is so much fodder here, I am hesitant to break up what should be individual anecdotes. But who would read through such a monologue? The barn is, as always a source of constant amazement for me. It has been since my family moved to Winters and I started spinning yarns about bodies being buried under the planks of the floor and witches in the upstairs to horrify prim little friends.

You may remember the epic (and I feel justified in using that term) cleaning of the barns which occurred a few years ago, as seen here. Slowly the boxes, junk, and untold treasures have re-accumulated, a high percentage in the form of J, J & kiddos items as well as massive amounts taken from my B granfolk's storage. My one task was to remove this cabinet and refinish it for use.

Alas, before the cabinet can be reached, brave souls must face - the chaos. 

The writing on that chalkboard...it's the welcome I wrote for J's bridal shower, in 2005...

I can't even begin to enumerate the contents of all of these photos. But rest assured I have a story for about 80% of them. 

Example:

In photo #1 - those silver handlebars you see, that would be my dad's moped. Which he used to commute from Davis to Woodland. Gave us rides on as kids growing up in Davis. I can practically measure the years of my life by it. Most recently it went away to college with B as his mode of transport. 

As extremely helpful as my interest is, it comes with some kickback. Luckily, this has diminished slightly over the past few years. It previously seemed that anytime anything went missing the response came, in a scathing tone, "Oh, K probably threw it out". M used to get quite exasperated with my efforts. And poor G...the day she discovered that her doll's baby brother, or sister (I forget which), was missing was met with sorrow and cries of sincere pain and mourning. I had attacked her toys during one purge and cruelly separated two plastic siblings forever. Or there was the time I cleaned out the VHS tapes. "We used to have that movie, but K threw it out". It has been a theme for years, where I seem to act as the heartless destroyer of emotional attachment in pursuit of clearing away clutter. I do restrain myself from throwing away belongings my folks are kind enough to store for other people - like when they were keeping sheep skulls and sheering equipment for some friends, or now when they have mountains of J's stuff. 

Saturday it was such a pleasure to go through stuff, cleaning off tables, emptying the cabinet, rearranging things and uncovering treasures of the genuine and ludicrous kind. 

Kiddos

What thrilling event did I schedule for last Friday evening? After spending most of the day in Woodland for a friends funeral, I gladly complied with my sister's rather frantic last minute request to watch her children. I'm always slightly perplexed as to how to best entertain them in my rather small apartment, which is solidly not childproof. But they seem to like coming over, eating any fruit in sight, fighting over tin cars, and shockingly falling asleep. 

Q and her apple

Esteemed gratitude to messieurs Winnie the Pooh and friends for holding the kiddos attention after having read every one of the six children's books I pulled off the shelf.

Who gets the chair?

J, happy with the cars

But can they play together?

Q eventually relented on the cars and slowed down enough to actually stay in a chair for more than five min.