THE FIRST SHELTER IN THE MUSKOKA WILDS - WHAT WOULD COME OF ALL THIS WORK AND HEARTACHE?
LATE ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, I HAD TO EXIT THE MUSIC SHOP STUDIO, AS IT WAS BEING USED BY SOME OF OUR GUEST MUSICIANS. I HAD A SMALL PORTION OF THE BLOG YET TO WRITE, AND DECIDED, WITH THE GOOD COMPANY OF MY FURRY HOUSE-MATE, BOSKO, TO END OUR PREAMBLE WOODLAND WALK, WITH A LITTLE SOJOURN, ON THE DECK OF BIRCH HOLLOW. ON MOST DAYS, I START THE BLOG IN THE MUSIC STUDIO, AND FINISH IT LATER IN THE DAY, ON THE VERANDAH OVERLOOKING THE BOG. IT'S NO REAL PROBLEM, ALTHOUGH I DO CONFESS TO HAVING SOME MINOR CONTINUITY ISSUES, THESE DAYS. GOSH, I'M A HAIR'S BREADTH FROM BEING A CENTURY OLD. WAIT A MINUTE. THAT'S HOW OLD I FEEL. IT USED TO BE THAT I COULD WORK IN A BUSY NEWS OFFICE, EVERY DAY, WITH MULTIPLE INTERVIEWS GOING ON AROUND ME, MEMOS FROM THE PUBLISHER AND ADVERTISING MANAGER CLUTTERING MY WORK SPACE, AND THEN GET HIT IN THE FACE WITH A FLYING HALF-EATEN BUTTER TART, AND NEVER LOSE MY PLACE. TODAY IT TAKES ME AWHILE, AFTER EVEN A TINY RESPITE, WHERE I'VE BEEN KNOWN TO SHUT MY EYES MOMENTARILY, TO GET BACK ON TRACK. IT'S NOT THE WORSE CASE SCENARIO, BUT AS A CAREER WRITER, I SHOULD BE RARING TO GO ALL THE TIME. I'M NOT HANDLING THIS GETTING-OLDER THING VERY WELL, I SUPPOSE YOU MIGHT SAY.
WHEN WE GOT INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODLAND, ON THE RIDGE ABOVE THE BOG, RECOGNIZING THAT THERE WERE GUSTS OF WIND, I WAS HALF WATCHING THE PATH AHEAD, AND THE DISTANT HORIZON, TO GUAGE THE NEXT GUST ACROSS THE LOWLAND. YOU CAN WATCH IT COMING, AND DIPPING DOWN THROUGH THE MARSH GRASSES. FOR THE FIRST TEN MINUTES, THERE WASN'T MUCH OF A PROBLEM, SO WE PROLONGED OUR VISIT, STANDING ON A POINT OF LAND ABOVE THE WETLAND, TO PONDER THE WARM AND PARTIALLY SUNNY AUTUMN AFTERNOON. WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, BLOODY HELL, THE WIND PICKED UP LIKE DOROTHY SAW IN KANSAS, AND THERE WERE LIMBS ABOVE, BREAKING OFF, AND SMASHING DOWN TO THE GROUND, ALL AROUND BOSKO AND I; INFLUENCING US TO BEAT A HASTY RETREAT OUT OF A FOREST, WITH MANY TREES HAVING DEAD LIMBS. I'VE BEEN CONKED BY ONE OF THESE LIMBS BEFORE, AND SURVIVED, BUT I WAS LUCKY. EVEN BEFORE WE COULD GET OUT TO THE MAIN LANE, THERE WERE A HALF DOZEN OF THESE LARGE LIMBS HITTING THE GROUND, RIGHT WHERE WE HAD BEEN STANDING. WHEN WE ARRIVED ON THE VERANDAH, THERE WERE AT LEAST TEN HUGE GUSTS, THAT SENT LEAVES CASCADING LIKE GIANT, COLORED SNOWFLAKES. IT WAS A WILD SCENE. BEAUTIFUL IN ITS OWN WAY, BUT NOT A DAY FOR WALKING IN THE WOODS; AT LEAST THESE WOODS BELOW BIRCH HOLLOW. EVEN BOSKO WAS SHAKING HIS HEAD ABOUT THE CLOSE CALL WE HAD. SO I HAD TO TAKE A WHILE TO GET THE STORY BACK ON TRACK, FROM THIS RATHER UNSETTLING RACE BACK TO THE SANCTUARY OF HOME SWEET HOME. IT IS NICE TO SIT AND LISTEN TO THE RAIN, THAT HAS BEGUN THIS MOMENT, HITTING THE MAPLE LEAVES THAT HAVEN'T YET TUMBLED TO THE GROUND. BOSKO HAS GOTTEN HIS MUZZLE WET, SNIFFING OUT THROUGH OPENINGS IN THE VERANDAH RAILING; WHICH IS FINE UNLESS SHE LAYS SAID MUZZLE, UNCEREMONIOUSLY ON MY LEG, LOOKING FOR SOME RETURN AFFECTION. I JUST LAID DOWN SOME BISCUITS SHE KNEW I HAD IN MY POCKET, THUS AVOIDING ANY NUZZLING SHE MAY HAVE BEEN ENTERTAINING FOR OUR AFTERNOON SOCIAL.
EVERY NOW AND AGAIN, WITHOUT FEELING ANY SHAME AT ALL, I TRY TO SLIP A LITTLE HISTORY INTO CONVERSATIONS WITH SONS, ANDREW AND ROBERT. FAMILY HISTORY. THEIR MOM AND POP INHALE THIS FAMILY HISTORY STUFF. I'D SAY IT WAS CHEAP ECSTASY, BUT IT'S BLOODY EXPENSIVE. IT'S LIKE AN ADDICTION. THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNCOVER, AND EVERY CRUMB OF NEW INFORMATION, LEADS IN ANOTHER EXCITING DIRECTION. THESE ARE WHAT SUZANNE AND I BELIEVE, ARE INTERESTING STORIES FROM OUR FAMILY'S PAST; BUT I HAVE TO TELL YOU, IT'S A HARD SELL TO A CONTEMPORARY AUDIENCE; OF MUSICIANS MORESO. NOT EVERY MUSICIAN. THESE MUSICIANS OF OURS! I SUPPOSE IT DOES BOTHER SUZANNE AND I, A LITTLE BIT, THAT THEY AREN'T MORE ENTHUSED ABOUT THEIR ANCESTORS. I DON'T GIVE UP EASILY, BUT I GET FRUSTRATED AT TIMES, TRYING TO SELL THE IDEA, THAT THEY SHOULD EMBRACE THEIR LEGACY, AND BOLDLY RUN IT UP THE FLAG-POLE, SO TO SPEAK. THE MUSKOKA CONNECTION, TO ME, IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING, AND HISTORY TO BE PROUD OF, WITH THAT GOOD AND STRONG FEELING OF BEING CONNECTED, TO THE VERY FIRST YEARS OF THE DISTRICT'S SETTLEMENT. I HAVE TRIED MANY DIFFERENT WAYS, TO SLIP OLD FAMILY PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE WEE LADS, WHEN THEY LEAST EXPECT IT, AND I OCCASIONALLY, WITHOUT SHAME, TRY TO WORK IT INTO CONVERSATIONS, THAT OTHERWISE HAVE NO CONNECTION WHATSOEVER WITH THE HISTORY OF THE SHEA AND VEITCH FAMILIES. THEY LOOK UP AT ME AS IF I'M TRYING TO FEED THEM TURNIPS OR PARSNIPS, LIKE I DID WHEN THEY WERE KIDS. "WE KNOW DAD, WE KNOW, BUT WE'RE LATE GETTING THE SHOP OPEN," OR LIKE THE SONG, PROMISING A SIT-DOWN LATER, WITH THE FAMILIAR WORDS, "WE'LL GET TOGETHER THEN, DAD, WE'LL HAVE A GOOD TIME THEN."
SUZANNE IS ADDICTED TO ANCESTRY.COM, AND I SUPPOSE, MY ADDICTION IS SECONDARY, AS I'M THE ONE LOOKING OVER HER SHOULDER, AT THE COMPUTER SCREEN, WHILE SHE SCANNING THROUGH OUR KIN-FOLK. BUT IT IS EXCITING, TO DELVE BACK INTO YOUR OWN FAMILY'S PAST, AND IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND, YOU KNOW IT'S ENTIRELY POSSIBLE, YOU WILL FIND A PIRATE ANCESTOR, THE LIKES OF CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW FO THE BLACK PEARL; POSSIBLY A ROGUE OF CONSIDERABLE ACCLAIM, ADVENTURERS, AS WELL AS A FEW THAT COULD LAY CLAIM TO HAVING MORE THAN A FEW LOVERS ON THE SIDE. YOU JUST NEVER KNOW, UNTIL YOU START PIECING THE PUZZLE TOGETHER. WE HAVE HAD SOME AMAZING HELP, FROM SUZANNE'S UNCLE, BERT SHEA, WHO WROTE THE FAMILY HISTORY, IN THE LATE 1960'S, BASED ON CONSIDERABLE INFORMATION PASSED DOWN BY JOHN LILY SHEA, SOME OF THE CONTENT PUBLISHED BELOW. THE PHOTOGRAPH REPRODUCED AT THE TOP OF TODAY'S BLOG, WAS TAKEN SOME TIME IN THE 1860'S, ON THE SHORE OF THREE MILE LAKE, LOT 16, CON. 6. OF WATT, "WHERE THE WHEAT FROM THE FIRST THRESHING, BY JAMES M. SHEA, WAS TAKEN BY HIS SONS, WILLIAM AND JOHN L., OVER WATER AND PORTAGE TO GRAVENHURST, AND THEN BY PACK OVER THE TRAIL TO WASHAGO TO BE MADE INTO FLOUR, AND RETURNED TO THEIR FATHER FOR BREAD TO FEED HIS FAMILY. IN THE SECOND PHOTO, "THE TWO CANOES WERE MADE BY THE SHEAS, CARVED FROM THE LOG. THE CANOE NEAREST, WITH THE RIB ALONG THE GUNWALE, TO STRENGTHEN ITS LIGHT STRUCTURE, WE BELIEVE, TO BE THE ONE THAT CARRIED HIM TO VICTORY IN THE (CANOE) RACE IN THE VILLAGE OF ROSSEAU." WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE ABOUT THIS NEAT FAMILY HISTORY? THE BOYS, WELL, THEY HAVE A LOT ON THEIR PLATE JUST NOW. A MUSICIAN FRIEND, VISITING THE SHOP, HAS NOW, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST COAXING, BROKEN INTO WONDERFUL, HAUNTING SONG, WHILE STANDING AT THE SALES COUNTER. THIS KIND OF THING HAPPENS ALL THE TIME. SO I SUPPOSE, HAVING TO CHOOSE BETWEEN AN IN-STORE PERFORMANCE, BY A TALENTED LADY-FRIEND, TRUMPS MY ENTHUSIASTIC HARD-SELL, TO DRAW ATTENTION TO ONE OF THE OLDEST PHOTOGRAPHS IN MUSKOKA HISTORY, AND THE FASCINATING HOME CRAFTED DUG-OUT CANOES, THAT WERE CARVED, AND THEN PADDLED, BY THEIR ANCESTORS. I SUPPOSE IF THEY HAD BEEN SINGERS, AND GUITAR PLAYERS, WHO ALSO CARVED CANOES OUT OF MUSKOKA GROWN LOGS, AND BUILT A SUCCESSFUL FARMSTEAD, WHILE ENTERTAINING AT COUNTRY FESTIVALS, WELL POSSIBLY, THEY'D SPARE A FEW MORE MOMENTS OF CONTEMPLATION; WHAT IT MEANS TO BE ROOTED IN THE PIONEER EARTH OF THE DISTRICT WE CALL HOME. ONE OF THESE DAYS, MAYBE THEY'LL TURN ON TO THE PAST, AND LIKE WHAT THEY READ! I'M THE GUY, BY THE WAY, WHO USED TO MIX TURNIPS AND PARSNIPS INTO THE BLUEBERRY PUDDINGS, ANDREW AND ROBERT USED TO GET AS WEE BAIRNS. I JUST HAVE TO PACKAGE AND DELIVER IT DIFFERENTLY. IN THE MEANTIME, WE'RE PLANNING FOR A VERY TRADITIONAL THANKSGIVING, THIS YEAR, AND PLAN TO VISIT THE AREA OF THE FIRST SHEA AND VEITCH HOMESTEADS, IN THE THREE MILE LAKE / UFFORD AREA, OF THE PRESENT TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES; AND MAYBE TAKE A VISIT TO THE UFFORD CEMETERY, WHERE THESE GOOD FOLKS, NAMED IN BERT'S BOOK, ARE SO PEACEFULLY BURIED IN THE TOWNSHIP THEY HELPED FOUND.
"ON THIS LOCATION, LOT 15, CONCESSION 6, THEY SET TO WORK TO BUILD A SHELTER. AS RELATED BY JOHN LILY SHEA, MY GREAT UNCLE, IT MUST BE REMEMBERED THAT THIS WAS THE MONTH OF JANUARY, IN MUSKOKA, WITH NORMALLY THREE FEET OF SNOW, NORTHWEST WINDS, AND TEMPERATURES AS LOW AS 45 BELOW ZERO, AND NO HOUSE. TO SURVIVE, KNOWLEDGE, RESOURCE AND SELF RELIANCE IS NECESSARY COUPLED WITH DETERMINATION. NO PLACE TO BUY NECESSITIES, NO ONE TO CONSULT. NO LIVING HUMAN BEING FOR MILES AND MILES. BRACEBRIDGE 16 MILES AND THERE WERE INDIANS AND TWO WHITE FAMILIES WHO HAD NOTHING TO SPARE. IN FAITH AND COURAGE THEY SET TO WORK TO BUILD A BRUSH SHANTY, WARMED BY AN OPEN FIRE, WHICH NEVER WENT OUT, OVER WHICH COOKING WAS DONE, MOSTLY MEAT AND SCONES, IF THEY HAD FLOUR WHICH THEY HAD TO CARRY FROM WASHAGO. I HEARD THEIR STORIES. SAW THE FIRST OF THEIR LABOURS, HEARD OF THEIR JOYS AND SORROWS, THEIR TRIUMPHS AND DEFEATS, AND I AM SATISFIED THAT THE CREST BEARING THE BIRD (GRYPHON), ABOVE THE FAMILY SHIELD, IN DEFENCE, AND THE WORDS, 'TRUE CONQUERS,' WAS STILL TRUE OF THEIR WAY OF LIFE," GENERATIONS LATER.
THE ABOVE PASSAGE WAS WRITTEN BY SUZANNE'S UNCLE BERT SHEA, OF UFFORD, (TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES), IN HIS INTERESTING 1960'S FAMILY HISTORY, ENTITLED "HISTORY OF THE SHEAS AND BIRTH OF A TOWNSHIP." THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE DETAILS THE CONSTRUCTION AND INHABITATION OF THE FIRST CABIN, UNDER THE HEADING "OUR DWELLING." THE ORIGINAL JOURNAL ACCOUNT CAN BE ATTRIBUTED TO JOHN LILY SHEA:
"WE HAVE BEEN EXPLORING THE SURROUNDING COUNTRY, AND ITS RESOURCES, AND THE LAY OF THE LAND. NOW LET US TURN OUR THOUGHTS HOMEWARD. BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE, THOUGH ITS CONSTRUCTION BE FRAMED FROM GREEN CROTCHES, AND POLES, COVERED WITH BALSAM BRUSH TO KEEP OUT THE STORM, AND COLD WIND OR RAIN. OUR BEDS OF GREEN GUM BOUGHS FOR MATTRESSES, A BLOCK FOR A TABLE, BACON AND VENISON HANGING FROM A NEARBY LIMB, FRYING PAN AND TEA PAIL, HUNG ON A SNAG BY THE FIRE; A DRY PINE LOG FOR A SEAT BY THE FIRE, WHERE GRANDDAD (JAMES SHEA) COULD SIT AND READ FROM THE 'OLD BOOK,'BY THE CAMPFIRE'S FLAME, OR OUR FOREFATHERS COULD CHAT TOGETHER, REMINISCING ON THE PAST, AND LOVED ONES, OR PLAN FOR THE FUTURE." THE AUTHOR, BERT SHEA, WRITES, "JOHN LILY MADE SEVERAL TRIPS TO SOUTH FALLS OR WASHAGO, THAT WINTER, BY SNOWSHOES, FOR NECESSITIES CARRIED HOME ON HIS BACK. AXES, WET STONES, GRIND STONES, ETC., ESSENTIAL FOR LAND CLEARING; AND SOON (BY THEIR LABOURS) THE VIRGIN FOREST SHOWED AN OPENING. THE SLAM OF THE FALLING TIMBER ANNOUNCED LAND CLEARING HAD BEGUN. A MONSTROUS JOB AND MANY WERE THEIR NEEDS, BUT THE GREAT MASTER MAKER, HAD PROVIDED MUCH IF ONLY MAN KNEW HOW TO APPLY IT!"
MR. SHEA WRITES, "SOAP WAS AN ESSENTIAL AND GRANDADDY KNEW THE ANSWER - LYE FROM THE HARDWOOD ASHES AND TALLOW FROM THE DEER MADE IN A WOODEN TROUGH, REDUCED BY HIS AXE, A PERFECT MIX FOR THE VERY FINEST OF SOFT SOAP THAT ABLE-FILLED THE CLEANING AND WASHING NEEDS. FROM PART OF THIS SOAP AND OTHER MIXTURE, JOHN LILY TANNED DEER SKINS FOR MOCCASINS AND MITTS, AND RAWHID FOR SNOWSHOE LACING. GRANDADDY SUPPLIED THE NEED OF A BROOM, BY SHAPING A PIECE OF BLACK ASH WITH HIS AXE TO SUIT, BOILING ONE END IN HOT WATER TO SOFTEN IT, AND BY PEALING THE SHAVINGS WITH HIS KNIFE, AND TURNING THEM BACK OVER THE END OF THE STICK, AND TIEING THEM IN SHAPE WITH A RAWHIDE STRING, WHICH DRIED AND HELD THEM TIGHT. THIS TYPE OF BROOM, THOUGH HARD TO MAKE, WAS VERY SERVICEABLE AND WOULD LAST FOR YEARS.
"AS THE IMMEDIATE NEEDS WERE MET IN AN IMPROVISED MANNER ON THE SIDE, THE CLEARING OF LAND AND CONSTRUCTION OF A MORE COMFORTABLE PLACE OR ABODE, CONSTRUCTED OF ROUND LOGS, TWO MEN WOULD CARRY IN AND PLACE ON THE WALLS, ROOFED WITH SPLIT CEDAR LOGS LAID UP THE TOP END, TO REST ON THE RIDGE POLE, THE BOTTOM END ON THE PLATE OR TOP WALL LOG, AND THE CRACK BETWEEN THE PIECES COVERED BY A SPLIT CEDAR, HELD IN PLACE BY TWO POLES ON EACH SIDE OF THE ROOF; AND TIED DOWN BY THE USE OF A BIRCH, WITH THIS BEING MADE OUT OF A SMALL BIRCH TREE, TO RESEMBLE A KEMP ROPE, AND TO DO MUCH THE SAME WORK. THE OPENINGS BETWEEN THE LOGS FILLED WITH CHUNKS OR PIECES OF SPLIT WOOD, MADE FOR THE PURPOSE AND SMALLER HOLES, CORKED WITH SWAMP MOSS. THIS HOUSE WAS FITTED WITH A FINE PIECE OF STONE, AND A CHIMNEY OF STONE AND CLAY, OR AS JOHN LILY SAID, 'MADE OF GREEN HOLES THAT WERE GOOD FOR ABOUT ONE YEAR.' WE KNOW VERY LITTLE OF THE EVENTS AND DOINGS OF THE FIRST WINTER, OTHER THAN WHEN SPRING CAME, THERE WAS A FALLOW CHOPPED, BRUSH PEELED AND READY FOR A BURN. BUT FOR ALL, THERE WAS NOT MUCH SAID ABOUT THE FIRST WINTER AS THEY WHO EXPERIENCED IT; THEY SEEMED TO DISLIKE TO TALK MUCH ABOUT IT, PERHAPS FOR REASON THE MEMORIES OF LONELINESS, COLD AND PRIVATIONS. I HAVE BEEN TOLD JAMES M. SHEA WAS A MAN OF GREAT FAITH AND UNDOUBTEDLY UNDER SUCH CIRCUMSTANCES, HE WAS THE STRENGTH OF THE FAMILY."
"JOHN LILY SHEA'S RETURN," TO THE WATT HOMESTEAD
According to the book's author, Bert Shea, "The spring (circa 1863) had gone, the wildflowers that had decked the woodland floor in beauty, had faded with the warmer days, their seed had fallen with the coming of June, the higher growths had burst these buds in all their glory. The wild cherry, the hawthorne, the dogwood, and the wild plum, filled the woods with odors on the breeze. The old black crows sat on the lofty limb, and with eyes of envy, watched the first green blades of growing corn, shoot from the bosom of mother earth. The potatoes' thrifty sprouts, had pressed the earth, and in the sun, and new land, were spreading sturdy leaves above the ground. James Shea looked on with satisfaction. He and William had hand spiked the scorched logs apart, sufficiently to provide room for the construction of their new home. Several places they had pried the logs apart, opening trails or paths about the garden plot. William had got work with the surveyors, packing flour across the portage, and other suppliesM to various places of storage or cache. This was the first work for many in Watt, for any of the Sheas, the wages being fifteen dollars per month. This was very pleasing to Grandaddy to see the boy get some money; him just becoming eighteen years of age. This kind of work not for every man, of older years, who could stand day after day, under the pack load; it was not play, but a necessity, They must have some money.
"With the corner stones laid for the shanty, with William's help, Grandaddy started to lay on the logs round after round. Through the long days of early June, the side walls were in place, and then the roof. Slow work alone and lonesome, he sewed the buckwheat, covered it with a brushy limb, stirring up the ashes and turf sufficient, and as he walked through the ashes, and loose earth of the fallow, among the logs and stumps, he noticed other tracks; tracks that were good to see for meat, but not for growing a garden. 'These snoops,' said Jim, as he marveled how close they had ventured to their camp. When John Lily comes back, we will have fresh venison or lose our garden. The time was drawing near for John Lily, to return with Granny and the girls, and many times while at work, Grandaddy would straighten up, set his axe down, and listen for voices. How good it would be to hear their voices coming; he would come home Saturday night, but Grandaddy hoped the family would be together for the Sabbath Day. The heat that brought the garden growth, and leaves and blossoms, had brought another growth; that of the mosquito and black fly, that in the mornings, were almost unbelievable. Grandaddy had finished work from the day, had supper, and returned to the shelter of his new shanty, on which the floor had been partly laid on the overlays. While seated on the floor, that was laid, his feet on the ground, as the smoke of a mosquito smudge circled his head, musing as darkness fell, he listened to the voice of the whip-poor-will, and settled down alone with his thoughts. A rustling at the door, as he looked up through the smoke, his eyes met those of Almira. Granny Shea and the girls, Elizabeth, Susanna, and Maria, their youngest daughter. John Lily had returned and brought the family (from eastern Ontario where they had been previously settled), the last rays of the dying light faded from the hills, the breath of evening bearing the voices of the night, stole through the woodland glades. The silver, full moon, slowly peaked over the hill, and smiled upon the land of trees as Pappy Shea stirred up the campfire, and Mammy poured the pancake batter into the pan, and turned them in the pan by one flip of her left hand. The smell of frying bacon and tea, fresh pickerel frying, what a happy union - the Sheas in their new home on Lot 15, Concession 6, of Watt. The moon that had risen early, stood high in the sky, ere the campfire burned low and happy voices had finished eager conversations, and John Lily had related the experiences of his journey to Stormont and home, and all was still for the night.
"Early next morning, the merry voices of young people were heard and the great lonely camp of the first Sheas, became alive with youth. Though she had travelled far and on foot, Granny or "Almira", past fifty in years, the mother of five, who Grandaddy said, when a girl, she could catch a suckling pig on the green; at her present age it was a marvel. There was much to be done and little to do it with, but with the pioneers, a will to do and knowledge of how to use the material at hand. The finish of the floor, from balsam and hemlock, flatted by the axe and fitted down, Grandaddy had help from John Lily, so the work could move along. Glass was needed for the window; this could call for another trip on foot to Washago. The weather was warm and it could wait. Grandaddy could contrive hinges for the door, but there was no lumber to make a door, and no mill to buy lumber. But the Sheas had an axe and could use it, to make furniture for the new house; chairs and a table. It has been related to the writer (Bert Shea), by my father (John Shea - clerk Watt Township), that one man built his house around one big stump and shaped it level for top of a table. Others used blocks or split logs set on blocks for seats; but Granny Shea wanted chairs; so with the axe she shaped the posts for back and legs. With John Lily's brace and bit, she bored the holes to fit the rungs into them, and from the basswood, she stripped the back in two inch strips, to weave the seats and backs. These were good solid serviceable chairs, and from all the years of use, there is still one in the possession of our family, and in good condition. Baskets and containers she made, from the strips taken from the black ash, woven together; she had a leach set up, to get by, to make soap. This contrivance consisted of a level foundation, perhaps three feet square, and two feet high of stone, or wood, on which a flat slab of wood, perhaps two feet by three feet, and three inches thick hard on top of the foundation, and slightly elevated on one end. On this, set end down, was a four foot piece of a hollow tree. Then the hollow filled with clean hardwood ashes, the top covered with clean moss or fine cedar bark, on which was caught as it dripped from the lower end, of the wide slab of wood, at the lower end of the round tube. This liquid leaching through the ashes is red in colour, and is usually caught in an iron container, when holding sufficient quantity of lye, which would be strong enough to eat the meat off your bones. Granny Shea put the proper quantity of deer tallow, or pork grease, to turn the lye into a soft soap. To complete this process and to speed the operation, a fire was usually set under the kettle, to give a few minutes boiling, but in the wood container, a few days in the warm sun, gave the same results of breaking down the fat. This was soap pure and good. Girls, no cleaner, was ever fluttered in the breeze, at any age and no Queen ever possessed a better complexion that Granny's daughters. Wild wood flowers. I do not want to turn this history into a romance, or even taint it with such, but Granny was training up young women that in after-years, would with their chosen partner, pioneer our civilization in other parts of Canada, and perhaps use the household science taught by her, their mother."
More about roughing it in the Muskoka woods, in the settlement years of the 1860's, in tomorrow's blog. Please join me for this countdown to a truly old fashioned pioneer Thanksgiving celebration. Lots more to come.
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