apples planted by George

I grew up in a pretty small town in a pretty remote part of Utah. When my great grandpa George Alvin Chappell lived there at the turn of the century, it was even more remote.  The largest town is 60 miles away to the west.  There isn't much to the north, south, or east for about 100 miles.

 

One day, a loooooooong time ago, a fellow came to town peddling apple tree seedlings.  Two families bought them in town.  The George Alvin Chappell family and the Eric Torgerson family.

George planted them in a pasture close to where the irrigation ditch cut through the pasture.

His son Glen eventually purchased that pasture, and then his son Marion eventually bought that pasture.

 

Marion remembers sitting in those apples trees with a salt shaker enjoying those apples.  So does his daughter, Rachel. ME.  But I vividly remember hearing the one and only Johnny Appleseed was the one that came peddling apple tree seedlings!

My dad is always full of stories!

 

On Labor Day, my sweet kids, my dad, and I picked a few buckets of those apples planted by George Alvin Chappell more than a hundred years ago.

Today, Emmitt and I made applesauce with those apples.

It was a great morning together with my boy.

It was fun for him to see the process of how applesauce is made. 

It was fun to have his help.  He loved peeling the apples and he loved mooshing the apples through the old fashioned food processor.  But most of all, he loved eating the warm, delicious applesauce.

He kept telling me to add more sugar and cinnamon, silly boy.

 

It was a good day. A busy day.

I also got a good hold of this monstrosity of a shrub and took some pruners to it.

Vanhoutte Spirea is also called BRIDALWREATH because when it flowers, the white flowers flow downwards like a waterfall and I guess that looks like a bridal wreath. 

It is an old variety of shrub.  It was popular in the Midwest. 

I can just imagine a Nebraska farmhouse a hundred years ago with this shrub in the yard.

Native Americans used it to treat venereal diseases and a tea of spirea helped with abdominal pain.  I would imagine some young brides had a handful of it for their mid-summer weddings as well.

 

 

I guess I've had a bit of a nostalgic day.

I think I better go sew for a bit this evening and enjoy my nostalgia.

Anyway, my shrub looks much better than this now, and I found the long lost strawberry patch under all those branches I trimmed away.





Margrethe Sorensdatter Sorensen had a rough January as well

Last night I was online doing some research with Kelsey, who is working on an ancestry project.  I was on familysearch.org and boy do I love that place.  I was browsing some ancestors on my mother's side and I came across a grandmother who is nine generations back, named Margrethe Sorensdatter who married Jacob Sorensen in 1703 in Denmark.  He was 30 years old and she was 25 years old.

 This lighthouse is Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse, in Hjørring, Denmark.  

They lived in Orum, Hjorring, Denmark where they had 11 children.  Of those 11 children, only two were known to make it to adulthood.  One of course being one of my ancestors, Margaretha born in 1703.  The other child that lived to adulthood was her younger brother of nine years named Christen. 

Hjorring, Denmark, near the lighthouse

 

The deaths of four of Margrethe's children are recorded.  They all died in January of 1723 in Hjorring.  She first lost a seven year old son Laurits on New Year's Day.  Her 3 year old daughter Johanne then died on the 17th of January.  As if that weren't enough, her 12 year old and 9 year old daughters died the same day on January 24th 1723. 

What a rough winter that must have been.

 

I think I am having some January blues.  I am a bit onery, a bit lonely although I am surrounded by people, a bit sentimental, and a whole lot emotional. 

Last night when I found this information I just sat at the computer and cried.

 

I cried for Margrethe and her loss that I could not comprehend.

Cried for the rough January she must have had that year,

and the following Januarys she endured as the remembrance of losing 4 sweet children in the same month must have weighed on her,

and I mostly cried because my January didn't seem quite so rough.

Its incredible what a little perspective can do for you.

 

Last night as I perused familysearch.org I was filled with perspective.

I realized once again how very blessed I am, and once again I was reminded that spring comes after every winter.  Thank Heaven.

 

 

Hjorring, Denmark





Jorgen Smith

Today at DUP (Daughters of the Utah Pioneers) I get to give a little history on one of my ancestors.

I am going to talk about this fellow, Jorgen Christiansen Smith.  He is my great great great grandfather.



He had a very interesting life, I think it was pretty rough as well.

He was born in Prussia in 1823 on a country farm as the son of a tenant farmer for a rich German landlord named Smidt (Smith.)  He went to school and was drafted into the Danish Army.  He had to fight in a war between Denmark and Prussia, as a member in the Danish Army, which means he fought against his brothers and cousins. 

My heart goes out to him, considering my fascination with the American Civil War where brother and cousins fought each other.  One of his brothers was killed, and he always felt badly about it and hoped it wasn't his bullet.

 

 Growing up as a poor serf boy, when he heard the Mormon missionaries talk about America and the building of Zion there with all of the wonderful freedoms and liberties he couldn't imagine, he and his first wife were baptized and headed to the United States.

This picture is of him and his third wife, my great great great grandmother, Mette Marie Villadsen Smith.  She had a great story as well. She was born in Denmark as a set of triplets in 1841.

Her parents could not care for her, so she was raised by a wealthy family in the area and was never allowed to see or speak of her real parents, family, and home.  She was baptized and left at the age of 17 for the United States, so that tells my dramatic mind that her life wasn't so great living on a large Danish manor.

 

 

This photo was taken at a Blackhawk War reunion.  Jorgen and Mette are the two in the center.

 

 Mette was Jorgen's third plural wife and eighteen years younger than he was.  There are some very colorful stories of living in a polygamist marriage that have been recorded in Jorgen's life, and my heart goes out to her and the other wives as well.  Their story was not a happy story.  Living in poverty, moving multiple times, losing many children, sharing a house and husband, and all the other hardships they had to endure makes me grateful for the simple, easy life I lead.

There is one quote that I love that makes me giggle by Jorgen:

"I am sure lucky and fortunate to have tree Danish vimmens for vives, but one would have been enough."

 

I hope my little report on Jorgen goes well today, and that he might be pleased with the information available to present.  It is a bit unfair that one entire lifetime of 85 years is condensed into a few pages of words.  There is so much more that we will never know.

 

 

I also need to bind these two little quilts today.  Confederate Stars and Bars.  I love how they turned out.  They are for the Fort Douglas Military Museum's Living History Detachment Inaugural Dinner this weekend.  That's a mouthful.  They are gifts for the two outgoing commanding officers of our civil war group.  They led us through a great 2013 reenacting year. 

 

Oh, and I told Matt I would make him a cherry pie.  I need to go get busy.

 

My grandpa was a logger.

Torrey Apple Days is always held on the weekend following the 4th of July.

It has been a tradition for many years for our family.

This year just the kids and I went down with my parents because Matt had to work.

We went to the parade and then we headed to my grandma's house which is just a block away from main street.  That is always my favorite part of the weekend - just going to my grandma's house.

On the short walk there, I saw some of my grandpa's old equipment and took a few pictures for fun.  

There are some old pictures of my grandpa sitting in the front of this truck that are so sweet.  

He was a logger.  He knew Boulder Mountain better than anyone in the county.  

He loved being out in the trees with his sons and their chainsaws.

This little dozer is my uncle Tuv's.  It was used to drag the trees they cut down to the piles.  Then all the trees were hauled off the mountain to the sawmill.  My uncle Tuv died on the mountain when I was 7, doing what they all loved to do.

 This is my uncle Mack, myself, my Grandma Elaine, and my cousin Weston's baby, Bryndl, on my grandma's front porch.  It was a great visit.  My cousin Marcy and all of her grown up kids were there and I haven't seen them in years and years and years.  Marcy was the super cool and beautiful older cousin that took me to get my ears pierced when I was 8.  So many fun memories of her when I was little.  I also got to visit with my fun and crazy male cousins.  They make me laugh.

I had a great weekend and I am so glad I got to spend a little time in Torrey.

  I

No Popcorn Popping on Grandpa William's Apricot Trees

While we were down south over spring break last month, we made our annual spring trip to Capitol Reef National Park.  I love it down there.  I remember going there with my parents and family often, on dates in high school, with college friends, and now with my little family of course.  So, while I sat in the car with a super onery teething baby Kenna, my mom and other kiddos took the traditional walk through one of the apricot orchards.  I love it when we time it in bloom!

But more than just loving it because I have so many fun memories down there, I love it because my ancestors farmed the land down there for a few generations until the National Park Service bought them out.  Before it was Capitol Reef National Park, it was a small little Mormon community called Fruita.  The history books say that there were never more than a dozen or 15 families that lived there at one time.  My great grandparents, William and Dicey Chesnut were one of those families.  They bought pasture and orchard land in 1925 in Fruita.

That land eventually ended up as my Grandpa Jay Chesnut's land.  It was sold to the government in 1962.

These photos of my kids are right next to Loop C of the campground.  3 and half acres of what was my great grandfather William's orchard was cleared in order to make Loop C  of the campground in the 1980s.

In this online book,  http://www.nps.gov/history/history/online_books/care/clr/clr.htm, I found this information:

VEGETATION RELATED TO LAND USE
Current Name: Chesnut Orchard
Other Name(s): Upper Chesnut Orchard
Location: Approximately 1.5 miles from the visitor center between the Fremont River and the Loop C Campground.
Acres Cultivated: 
Orchard 2.8
Number of Trees: 129
Historical Documentation:

Originally part of the Nels Johnson homestead, Johnson's descendants sold 53.76 acres to William Chesnut in 1925. The land remained in the Chesnut family until it was sold to the government in 1962. Documentation suggests that in 1940, Chesnut had approximately 6.4 acres in orchard, filling the land between the Fremont River and the Scenic Drive. In 1987, 3.6 acres of orchard were removed to construct Loop C Campground.

Historic Crops:
Peach (434)
Apple (84)
Pear (30)
Current Crops:
Almond (25)
Apple (75)
Red Delicious
Yellow Delicious
unknown varieties
Pear (29)
Bartlett

Apricot trees were apparently not grown on my grandfather's upper orchard property, but that is what these orchards are full of now.  I love apricots in full bloom.  It is a promise of a beautiful spring, plus it just makes me want to sing the Primary song I grew up singing about "Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree."

I am so lucky to have roots in such an incredible part of Utah.  My mom remembers spending time at her Grandma Dicey's home in Fruita and the famous Osage orange tree she had near her house.  It is still growing there although her home is long gone.  It is a picnic area now, named CHESNUT PICNIC AREA, across the highway from the old 'mail tree.'  Oh boy the stories that could be told if they were only written down. Thankfully, there are a few recorded stories and I love reading them.  I love visiting where they were played out, and I love that my kids enjoy it too.

Two red and white quilts, a century apart

Well, side by side - there they are!  The one on the left is a quilt that my dad received when his mother, my Grandma Lela, passed away a handful of years ago.  I have loved it since then.  I never saw it before my dad acquired it.  I had this idea this past winter that I wanted to reproduce it.  So I did.  I finally got it back from the quilter last week, and even though it is not bound, I had to lay them both out and take a few pictures. The one of the right is the one I made.

It was such an enjoyable project.  The entire time I made it, I thought of my Grandma Lela, even when I was picking out the fabric.  Notice that I even copied the HOLY SMOKES BUBBLEGUM PINK backing fabric.  Well, as close to the same color as I could find anyway.  So, I had thoughts of my grandma while sewing this quilt top, then I found out from a few uncles and aunts that my grandma probably didn't even make this quilt.  Those aunts and uncles remember this quilt on the bed at THEIR grandmother's home in Pleasant Grove while growing up.  My uncle says that she, my great grandmother Diantha, wasn't much of a quilter, so he thinks her mother might have made it and given it to her.  If that is so, my great great grandmother Annie Christianna Rasmussen Sorensen, born in 1871 in the Salt Lake Valley, made the quilt.

I am such a history lover, and a super sentimental person, and of course a quilt lover, so despite whomever made the quilt, I feel a deep love and appreciation to the amazing women that are a part of my grandma's maternal line.  My mind turns to them when I see their quilt, and the one I made as well. 
Here it is just laid out on my bed today.  I think it will live there one day, but not while I have many small children that LOVE to be on my bed and seem to have all sorts of dirtiness that the white fabric would love to take from them.  I will get it bound of course as well.  Yesterday was my Grandma Lela's 98th birthday.  Happy Birthday Grandma.

My Grandpa Jay Chesnut

Its funny how a date can stick in your head.  You hear the date and think of one thing.  That is how February 2nd is for me.  I don't think of Groundhogs Day, I think of birthdays.

February 2nd is the birthday of Brandi Wood (she was one year older than me and a cheerleader), Holly Peterson (she is a good friend, was my age and played volleyball with me), Brad Webb (he was a year younger than me and was Mr. Sportsman at our school, he works with my dad now), Kami Taylor (she was a great friend from my hometown that played sports with me, drug main with me, and did crazy things like sneaking out of her window while I waited in my car down the street, and we toilet papered ALOT of people's yards), and it is my Grandpa Jay's birthday as well.

That seems like a busy birthday date considering my high school only had 200 kids attend it, and my hometown only had around 50 homes in it.  I think I remembered everyone's birthday on that date, because it was my grandpa's birthday.  He was born in 1924 in Torrey, Utah.

He was a Marine and served in World War II as a member of a 3-man Avenger torpedo bomber in the Pacific.  I remember my grandpa as a rough man with rough manners.  I remember going to my grandparents' home on many Sunday afternoons.  They lived in another town about 20 miles away from my home.  I mostly remember my grandpa sitting in the living room with my parents, uncle Scott, and grandma telling stories and cussing up a storm.  He wasn't angry when he cussed, well, I guess he probably was but I never saw him angry.  Cussing was just part of his language.  Cuss words were just adjectives to him.  He would tell a funny story and be cussing every third word while just laughing and laughing.  My grandpa Jay was my mom's father, but he got along great with my dad.  I wish I knew more of his military experiences.  I only know what he told my dad and what my dad has remembered from those Sunday visits.  My brother loves World War II history, and I think he has done some research on who, what, and where our grandpa was involved during the war.  I need to chat with him.

He volunteered in the Marine Corps in December of 1941.  He married my grandma in 1943.  The silly picture above is of my grandma Bessie, whom I never met, and my grandpa Jay in San Diego at the Naval Base.  My mother was born in 1953.

I remember him as an older man who had suffered from many small strokes that left him with a difficult time of getting around.  In his younger years, he was a logger on Boulder Mountain and did that for 35 years.  He loved Boulder Mountain and knew it better than anyone.  He was a hard worker and my dad tells me he had biceps that were the biggest he had ever seen.  He was also the Mayor of Torrey for 22 years where he did great things, especially with the water system.  This picture below is the grandpa I remember.  He passed away in 1999 at the age of 75.

 I like to think of the man that I didn't know as well as remember the one I did know.  When we went to visit, I was usually running around outside climbing a cherry tree in their yard, or looking for my cousin Amber to play with.  What 10 year old wants to listen to 'adult talk?'  As I got older and visited as a teenager, I unfortunately didn't stick around to chat either, and if I did, I talked with my Grandma Elaine.

I don't remember my Grandpa Jay ever talking directly to me, and I wish I could change that now.  He was so boisterous and gruff in my perception and I was too scared to talk to him.  I have cousins that grew up down the block from my grandparents, and they have different memories of our grandpa because they got to see the other side of him that was hidden from me.  I am envious of them.  I do remember one time sitting in the living room and I don't remember the subject being discussed, but my grandpa got teary eyed and he got a little choked up about something, so I know he was a man of deep feelings, I just never got to see them.

I am so proud to say my grandpa served his county and did his part during World War II.  What a fine legacy and example he leaves for us now, I just wish I knew more about his military experiences, and him as a man, as my mom's dad.

Helen Alcy Tanner Maxfield

I like to read when I nurse my baby to sleep at night.  I have been reading Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice on Kelsey's Kindle, but Matt was browsing on it tonight looking at an upcoming Angus Bull Sale in Charlo, Montana that he would love to go to.  So, as I sat down to feed Kenna and settle in for a few minutes, I grabbed a book off of my bookcase and read a little excerpt about my great great grandmother, Helen Alcy Tanner Maxfield.

Here we go from memory - she is was born in 1839 in Illinois.  She married Elijah Hiett Maxfield when she was 17.  The portion I read about tonight talked about her medical career.  In 1861, she was called by the LDS church to be a midwife in the Salt Lake Valley.  She was 22 years old.  She became quite the doctor and received her license to practice obstetrics from the Territory of Utah.

In the late 1870s, Elijah and Helen moved south to Rabbit Valley, specifically East Loa, now known as Lyman.  That is my hometown - where I grew up.  Times were rough and Lyman is now and was especially then, a very rural place.  At the time, there was not a real road into the valley and the closest large town was Richfield, 60 miles away.  She charged $3.00 for her services which included delivery of the baby, care of the mother, cooking and feeding the family, and cleaning the home as well.

Reports say she delivered over 2000 babies into this world, and only lost a few.  She helped her sister in-law deliver Siamese twin girls and both babies died, and later a sickly mother of 11 children also died during childbirth.  Those are the only deaths she attended as a midwife.

Her last child born, Ethel Mae, who is my great grandmother, was delivered by herself of course, with a bit of help from her husband Elijah.

I wish I could find a good picture of Helen right now while I am on the computer since she is fresh in my mind, but I can not find one right now to put on here.  I do know they exist though. I have pictures of both of her parents.  Helen came from a very well known and prominent family, the Tanners.

This picture is of her husband Elijah.  His eyes remind me of my own dad's eyes.  This overall picture actually looks very much like my cousin Mike Welch.  

The picture at the top of the page is a picture of their headstone found in the Lyman Cemetery.  I remember riding bikes out to the cemetery.  It is not in town, but a mile or two west of town.  It was sort of a right-of-passage when you became old enough and big enough to ride your bike clear out to the cemetery.  Anyway, my cousins and friends and I used to ride out there often.  I remember loving their headstone.  There is a phrase engraved into the bottom of the headstone that you can not see very well in the photo.  It says "Weep not children, for mother and me

For we are waiting in glory for thee"

I always loved this phrase and maybe that is why I loved their headstone so much.  I remember leaving the cemetery and chanting that phrase in my mind as I pedaled my bike back home.  It is a beautiful and wonderful assurance to a child like myself who liked to hang around cemeteries I guess.

My fan chart

This beauty here is my 9 generation fan chart, yep, 9 generations.  I think it is pretty amazing.  

I grew up with my dad telling me stories of my ancestors.  I loved it.  I remember watching a movie in 4th grade Utah History that talked about the Pony Express. The movie mentioned 3 or 4 names of great Pony Express riders, and one of them happened to be my great great grandfather and I recognized his name.  My teacher had her doubts, but I was adamant.  I went home and asked my dad if Elijah Hiett Maxfield rode for the Pony Express.  He answered in the affirmative.  I told my teacher the next day, but I am not sure if she even believed me then!

My dad told me stories and  I remembered many of them.   I still love a good story now.  I have always always loved family history.

My name is in that center circle in the bottom center of the chart.  My dad is on the left and my mom is on the right in the white spaces next to me.  I have a ton of the old fashioned pedigree charts filled out and I love to look through them and see what needs to be filled in and where they are all from and where they died, but recently I have been trying to get more into the stories, not just the names and dates.

The blue portion is my dad's paternal line.  Mostly English and Scottish folks.  My maiden name is Chappell, and every outermost blue portion of the chart is the Chappell name that extends back to James Chappell, my 6th great grandfather.  Do you see how all the blue parts of my fan are filled in?  Luckily these folks kept good records and someone has been diligent enough to track it all down.  A few of my favorite names in the blue portion, the Chappell, Sperry, Maxfield, and Tanner family lines are Thankful Peet, Joy Sperry, Sarah McLeod, and Rachel Winter Smith, who I would like to think I was named after, but it is not true.  My mom claims it was a TV show called Rachel Rachel.  I think I will go with the ancestor story I like better, who knows, maybe my dad had some say in it and thought about Rachel Winter Smith as well!  This blue section of my family tree is the one I know the best.  There are great and amazing stories in this portion of my family.

This green portion is my dad's maternal line.  They are all from Holland and Denmark.  The Ackerman, De Groot, Sorensen, and Rasmussen families are all represented here.  By the time this section gets back to the 8th and 9th generations, the information has died out.  I need to dig a little deeper in this section of my family.  I think a trip to Holland and Denmark would be incredible!  I know some stories about this portion of my family tree, but not enough.  One little tidbit I like is before they emigrated, the Akkermans and De Groots were peat farmers and also owned fishing boats that fished in the fiords of Holland.  A few of my favorite names in this section are Maaike Jikkes Dijkstra, Bodil Mortensdatter, and Geert De Groot.  I just wish I knew how to say some of those Dutch names!

The pink portion of my fan chart is my mom's paternal line.  I have just started to research this side of my family, so I know very little.  My mom is not interested in family history, so I don't know as much about her side of the family as I do my dad's.  The Chesnut, Knox, Staley, and Petersens are represented in this part of the fan.  The Chesnut and Knox families go back to the McDonalds of Ireland and Scotland, while the Staley family have roots in the USA from the Mayflower and the Petersen line is from Denmark.  There are many empty places in this pink portion, mostly with the Irish and Scottish side, so once again, a super good place for me to start researching!

The last yellow section is my mom's maternal side.  The Smith, Moss, Coleman, and Hunt families are represented here.  Some of the fun names in this group I like are Mette Marie Villadsen Johannesen (she was a triplet born in 1841), Holger Moss, and Prime Coleman.  The Smith and Moss families are from Denmark.  The Colemans from England and Scotland, and the Hunts are another one of those Mayflower family lines with Patriot ties to the Revolutionary War.  They lived many generations in Kentucky, so I think a trip back there would be fantastic!  I know some amazing stories from this portion of my family history because this is the area I have been recently researching.  I love to know the STORIES, not just the names and dates, and the stories I have found concerning this quarter of my ancestors has been amazing.  Such courageous and brave people.

I have really been trying to make an effort to search out my ancestors, learn more about them and the amazing lives they lived, and to see who it is that made me who I am.

I have been inspired to be better because of what I have learned about them and can't wait to learn more.

Sarah Thornton Coleman dress complete, I think

 So here is the Sarah Thornton Coleman dress I finished.  I just put the sash on today and had Kelsey snap a few pictures.  I made a sash using the same fabric as the dress, but it just didn't have the pop I wanted.  It blended in to much.  Now looking at this sash, which honestly matches one of those little stripes on the dress, it makes me think it is TOO much.

I did handstitch the sash to the dress.  I am not sure if I was supposed to, but otherwise it kept sliding down a bit.  Does that mean my dress doesn't fit properly?  

If someone knows, please let me know.  Tell me what you think about the color of the sash as well.

  

The only thing that keeps this dress together, is in the back as a top drawstring around the neckline, and another drawstring under the bust, which is covered up by the sash.

That is it.  It kind of makes me nervous!  Well, I guess the sash helps as well. 

I am wearing my civil war era corset under this dress and I must say it pretty much kills the softer shape of the early 1800s that I am supposed to be representing.  

That only means one thing - I need to make some Regency Era short stays.  YIPPEEE!!

I really like the dress and its silhouette in my modern unders better than the 1860 unders.  So here's to another sewing project!

 

 When I attend a Jane Austen picnic in the summer, I will get some better photos.  

I must say though, that making this dress with my great great great great grandmother in mind, Sarah Thornton Coleman, has been wonderful.  

I think this might turn into a fun project - picking an ancestor and making clothing she would have worn.  Sounds like family history to me.

Now, for sewing, I have a civil war quilt to bind.  I just got the binding sewn on today, now I need to turn it and hand stitch it down.  I got the LONG and good Pride and Prejudice movie with Colin Firth from the library yesterday.  That is how I like to bind a quilt - with a good movie.  Then I really better finish that Christmas present for my patient and sweet mother!

Oh, and see my dear sweet Kenna with red eyes?  Yes, she was a bit forsaken during our short little photo shoot today!