Surname Saturday Roberts

I have had a couple of family names that confused me at first glance.  The first of such was my great grandmother Katherine Roberts Humphries Roberts.  The family thought that she was a Humphries at first, but after research, it was revealed that she had married a Humphries when she was young, did not have any children, and after his death, married my great grandfather George Washington Roberts.  Her maiden name was Roberts.  This gave way to speculation, were they related?

The census revealed that George was a veteran of the Union in the Civil war and had settled in Kansas with his land bounty from his service.  He was born in Jackson Co., Michigan, a descendant of Capt. Lemuel Roberts of Connecticut/Vermont who wrote his Revolutionary War Memoirs. (Michigan people I have decided I may need some help with Jackson County I am running into challenges with probate records)



Katherine on the other hand was born in Lawrence Co. Kentucky, her Roberts go back to the Roberts who came in the early 1700's to Virginia. 

Connecticut, Virginia...nope doesn't look like a cross.
Below is my grandmother's ancestry line back 5 generations.

Click on the picture to view it larger.

Sharing Memories Week 14 Grandmothers

I have been joining The Olive Tree Genealogy Blog  (clicking on this will take you to her memory)in the Sharing Memories on my personal blog because they were associated with my personal memories of myself.  This prompt was to share memories of our grandmothers, so I thought this blog would be a better place for my participation. 

My Grandmothers were alike but different.  Interesting you say.

My mother's mother talked some about her youth, and she was always engaged in doing something.  She was not a sit still person.   I have looked at some newspaper clippings of her activities as a community hostess for Eastern Star meetings, Methodist Church Women's meetings, etc.  She was actively engaged.  I will give you some background on her. 

Mathilda Roberts Whitson is on the right.

If you click on the picture you can view it in a larger size.

She was born in Elk Falls, Kansas.  She was the ninth of 11 children.  They moved to Oklahoma after some very hard winters in Kansas.  When her father obtained land in Oklahoma, they lived in a tent near an Indian reservation.  One of her favorite story to tell, was of her sister (who is shown with her above) and her going down to a near by village.  The Indian women were cooking and doing other chores.  They ventured near one tepee, and the woman smiled at them and while stirring the pot, gestured for them to get some bowls for food.  Then she said, as they started to dip the spoon in," hmmm, dig deep, puppy in the bottom".  My grandmother would give a hearty laugh when she told this.  It was almost always when we were stirring a pot of stew.  

She loved sports.  I don't remember days associated, but if there were a bowling league on TV or baseball game (she loved the Yankees) she was there watching it.  Interestingly she had arthritis all her life.

She was a good cook.  Her rolls were to die for.  I think that the recipe book her recipe was written in was ruined when in storage.  My favorite cooking memory was of making a spice cake with her.  We did it together, and some how when we took it out, it looked like a ski slope.  I was distressed.  She laughed and said, 'failed cakes taste the best' and proceeded to show me how good it tasted.  That stuck with me to share when my grandchildren have been distressed when a food did not come out as they planned.  

Her other talent was sewing.  She pieced quilt tops, and when she was young, quilted them also.  When I was 15, she gave me two quilts.  One for then, and one for when I would get married.  The admonition was:  I was to use them, not put them up in a box.  I used them, and now I am salvaging pieces to make pillows for my children to have a piece of their great grandmother's handy work.

She died when I was 16.  She was a mother of 13 and raised 2 grandchildren a widow when my mom was 2.  That subject will be for other posts.

 

Lenorah Gildon Langley with youngest daughter Lillie

My dad's mother was around a lot more than my mom's mother.  My dad kept trying to take the roll as care giver of her by purchasing homes for her live in.  We ended up having 4 rent houses near ours, because she would live in one for a while, then go off to another child's home.  I had fun while she was there.
She was a quiet person.  She didn't talk about her youth or family at all. [ I did know her mother.  She lived with my grandmother until I was 5.  I remember she always had nickels  in a pocket book and gave one to a great-grandchild when thy came to visit.]
My grandmother would sit daily and read the scriptures.  She had a devotional calender every year that she would mark off the scriptures as she read them.
She would take me to church with her.  My dad said his father was a Church of Christ evangelist. 
Her favorite thing to do was to make fried bread and jam for me when I got home from school.  I can still remember the great taste.
She loved sewing.  She would embroidery, piece, and crochet.  I learned my love of sewing creativity from her.
If you gave her what she considered a treasure, the gift went into a trunk.  When she died, my aunt  gave some pillow cases my grandmother had put back in the trunk for when I got married.  She died two years before I married.  I was to have been given the trunk, but lightening burned the barn it was stored in at my aunt's farm.
They were two similar women in that they loved creating and cooking, but different in that one was out going and the other was not.  I was blessed to get to know each.

A Quest For Knowledge of the Apron

 I have looked at many of your Christmas blogs and I see pictures of a Grandmother in an apron, a mom in an apron, so I decided to write about the apron.  I associate an apron with my grandmother who raised 13 children and 2 grandchildren,  Mattie Whitson.  Mattie became a widow when her twins were 2 years of age.  She had 6 children in her home to raise the others had gone to war.  She would eventually raise two of her grandchildren with her twins.  I love her indomitable spirit.

Here she is (on the right) with her sister Fay Roberts Perkins sitting visiting on the front porch.  Great Aunt Fay lived to be 90 years of age.  You notice the apron that she has on.  

Memories of my grandmother revolve around the kitchen and cooking.  That will be for future posts.  To me, she was what I called real.

The other person I associate an apron is my mother-in-law who is 90 this year.

She has always been the proper example of society.  She had an apron in her drawer for every holiday occasion and party.  I love her sweet way of guiding my daughters and sons in social etiquette.
Below is a well worn apron email poem that I found on an Alberta Centennial site.

That plagiarized story of Grandma's Apron is based on a poem by Tina Trivett, a poem that is one of the most beautiful eulogies that were ever written, a eulogy that celebrates the life of Tina Trivetts' grandmother.  It  has been around for years on the Internet, as have been many other abridged plagiarized versions of the story and even abridged plagiarized poems (I have yet to read one that comes close to meeting the quality of Tina Trivett's original) with the same title. :  From a post by Walter H. Schneider that was presented at the Alberta Centennial. 

Grandma's Apron

by Tina Trivett

The strings were tied, It was freshly washed, and maybe even pressed.
For Grandma, it was everyday to choose one when she dressed.
The simple apron that it was, you would never think about;
the things she used it for, that made it look worn out.

She may have used it to hold, some wildflowers that she'd found.
Or to hide a crying child's face, when a stranger came around.
Imagine all the little tears that were wiped with just that cloth.
Or it became a potholder to serve some chicken broth.

She probably carried kindling to stoke the kitchen fire.
To hold a load of laundry, or to wipe the clothesline wire.
When canning all her vegetables, it was used to wipe her brow.
You never know, she might have used it to shoo flies from the cow.

She might have carried eggs in from the chicken coop outside.
Whatever chore she used it for, she did them all with pride.
When Grandma went to heaven, God said she now could rest.
I'm sure the apron that she chose, was her Sunday best.

I miss you Grandma...
A friend who posts her shared her poem about the apron.  I love it! Click here to read it.

As I started my search of information about aprons, I find that many are interested in fact there is a whole blogsphere out there that posts around and creates aprons.A wonderful post on Aprons. 

Which makes me think that Avis Yarbrough was sadly mistaken when he said in "A History of 1950's Aprons" in September 28, 2007 that the apron would never reach popularity like it had in the 1950's.

I go into the fabric store and there a mulitude of retro and new apron patterns available.  One of my favorites is a Daisy Kingdom pattern by Simplicity.

In my search about the apron's historical use, I have found a variety of information and many opinions.  One writer, David Graham, had the opinion that aprons were symbols of oppression, relating them to domestic servants, then he seemed to change his mind after reading Aprons: Icons of the American Home by Joyce Cheney, who in his words, 'lumps aprons in with hearth and home commodities such as picket fences and apple pie'.  My humble opinion is women are smart, they find the apron useful in their "gourmet" cooking to protect their clothes and there is a bit of nostalgia that comes from the relationships with family members of by-gone eras.

I was fascinated with the styles of the different era's.  The early 1900's were much like my favorite apron, more of a smock which covered most if not all of the dress.  Click here for a great site if you are looking to identify period dressing.  They have great examples.  Here is another great historical pattern site.  Below is the 1675 - 1760 New France Girls Pattern

Well, my quest has been a long one, I don't know if I have enlightened anyone else, but I have had fun researching such a nostalgic subject for me.  I was amazed to find out that the bib overall we have now that mostly farmers wear, was a full fitting bib apron that men wore while working in a shop in the early 1700-1800's.
As I was searching, I asked my daughter where her aprons were.  I was met with a blank stare.  Of course, I had to make her an apron.  I have started on a matching on for my granddaughter.  They must keep the tradition of gentility and family values as represented by an apron.  Below you see my product of piecing and quilting scraps my daughter had in her fabric boxes. 

 

I hope you have enjoyed the journey with me.  I thank you for dropping by, and leave a comment about your feelings about aprons if you are so inclined.