a board for kneading

There's this new piece of old wood in my home. It's a simple piece of wood, really - a flat 1 inch thick board, with raised sides nailed in, though worn down from the years of use. This was my great grandmother's baking board. I never met her - she died the year before I was born. I've heard stories of her for my entire life, I have some of her sewing things, I share her genes. But each time I stand at this old and worn board, I'm so grateful to know her a little bit more.

She was a mother parenting alone most of the time, deep in rural Maine in the depression. So very poor - struggling to clothe her children, struggling to feed them, and moving often because they simply couldn't afford to live anywhere. A mother of six children. A strong, spirited and brave mother of six children. Her moments spent kneading bread on this board were probably like the days of her life - likely full of much anguish and worry. I'd like to think - and I believe from the stories of her - that there were also moments of tremendous joy, strong faith, great humor, and deep love for her children. I can imagine her at this board, kneading the daily bread, rolling it, shaping it and providing sustenance for her family - through tears, frustration, solitude, conversations, and laughter all alike. Motherhood. Life.

This board is quite sacred to me, as is the act of making bread upon it.  Kneading the dough that will become my family's evening bread, I think about her. I think about her life and mine, and how different they are. How grateful I am for what I have and why it is that I have it. But I also think about how very much we share in common. The anguish, the tears, the joy and the laughter of motherhood and of life - I know these things, too. Making bread by hand - especially as a symbol for what I do as a mother - can sometimes feel like a chore that will never end, sometimes a respite full of healing, and sometimes, a gift I can't stop myself from giving to those I love. I imagine she felt the same way.

Comments

[Carrie]

Your writing is so beautiful. I love stories behind antique and vintage items.Thanks for sharing this!

[Eren]

So very well said Amanda. What a strong and brave women we have all come from. S. and I were having a conversation last night about "things". And how we are trying to pare down our "things" but there are just some that I feel such a huge connection to that I could never get rid of them. I was trying to make him understand how grounding a connection like you describe above can be. How one simple item like a bread board can transcend time and space, connecting two women in a family. He still doesn't get it, but I share in your love of family things.

[heather]

too many tears here to write... this post speaks of strength and perseverence like no other. what a treasure to have your great grandmother's story, her history, and now her bread board. she sounds like a powerful woman amanda. many blessings.

[bigbucketgirl]

Yes, a treasure. My grandmother was not so much a bread maker but a cake maker and i have her old, old eclair pans and cake trays, her bird for putting in pies, and many of her utensils. Years of watching her in her aprons using them means they are cherished despite looking battered and bruised. Her 'skilled cook' gene must have missed me(!) but not the love of making and sustaining my family.

Thankyou Amanda...for the nudge to the kitchen...to make eclairs!

[Vanessa]

Amanda, I often read your posts but this is the first time I am commenting. I just couldn't stop myself from saying : "Beautiful". Your writing has such a natural poetry.

[Amy]

the repetetiveness of the kneading, the repetition of the daily "chores" of the mother, become so ingrained that they are done without thinking, an interesting parallel. you struck a chord with me today. just like weeding the garden, as much as I think I detest it, I love it just the same.

[Molly]

beautiful. just so touching. thank you.

[stacy]

my grandmother has a bread board that i'm hoping will be passed down to me, i think it was her mothers. she's from maine also, still lives there, outside Bangor, my whole family actually. i'm the only one who moved to the big city of NY. loved your story.

[mandy]

you are so articulate and able to capture some of the feelings I also have towards my incredible female ancestors. these daily things that we do and that have been done for generations tie us together in the repititions of daily life and every once and a while create a moment of clarity and beauty. thank you so much for sharing this story!

[Edi]

I enjoyed your post - my question is - what is a bread board for? I knead a lot of dough and I would think it would be uncomfortable kneading it on something that does not stay still. Was it due to a lack of counters? The bread board placed on the table to protect the table???

[Maman de Loulou]

Wonderful words Amanda. Thank you.
I feel the same every time I prepare some coffee as I use my grand-mother's old coffes mill. One of the few things she brought with her during World War II (by foot with my mom, aged 3, and aunt, a baby she fled from east of France to the west coast). I can feel her strong spirit at every use.
By the way, I am reading your book right now enjoying it soooo much. I hope to join the Flickr group very soon.

[SOULEMAMA]

************************

Edi -

Yes, the counter space of today is quite different, I believe, from the counter space of the 1920's. And I use it - partly for sentimental reasons, but also so I can knead bread while sitting down at the dining table, somewhere I wouldn't otherwise want to dump a bunch of flour on. I'm standing in this photo only so I could get the photograph. ;)

Amanda

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[Suzanne]

What a precious gift! I have my grandmothers kneading board that was made by my grandfather. Many loaves of Italian bread and her favorite blueberry pies I watched come to life on that board. Thanks for reminding me!

[emily]

i have thought, so often, about how making bread is a metaphor for mothering. and i can only imagine how that would be magnified by using your great-grandmother's bread board. (i use my great-grandmother's rolling pin when i make pie crust. like you, i never met her - but she lives on through stories and connections. and when i pull out her rolling pin, it's as though she's standing there at the counter with me.)

your great-grandmother sounds like an amazing woman. really.

[camerashymomma]

this made me cry. this is beautiful, and i know exactly what you mean just by having this in your house you are connected to her, through the same act that you share of making bread. i often feel this way while using my grammy's sewing tools, thinking 'we are the same' we sat at one time, together, her younger version and the me that wasnt' even a twinkle yet. and most often i think of her when i hear that patty griffin song 'making pies' which i totally think of while seeing this photo of you. this is beautiful, and your words are as well.

[julie]

Another beautiful post!

[Libby]

what a beautiful remembrance.

[Caren]

Thank you for this really beautiful and thoughtful post. I really love the metaphor of baking bread as motherhood. And I love old things that connect us with the mothers that have come before us. What a sacred lineage we all have!

[Deanne]

Beautiful post! Just beautiful!

[Emily/ Five Flowers]

Wow, how great is it that you have things handed down from her. It is so great that you are able to connect to her experience.

[melody]

Beautiful. Many little thoughts and reminders that I needed this morning.

[Josie]

I love this post. Thank you so much for sharing this story.

[méri]

What beautiful words! Thanks for this moment!

[Berlinswhimsy]

Lovely remembrances. So many people's lives were so extreme back then----immense joy and immense sadness, struggles here but then afternoons in the sun there. I have a few items from my grandparents that evoke memories like this, too. They are so, so precious to me, too.

I'm very envious of your bread board! As I'm a baker at heart, I love to collect bread-related items. Enjoy your evening bread! ;-)

[Erica]

Nice. Very nice. =)

[amy]

What a great treasure for you to have. I think the bread is infused with some Grandma magic in every loaf probably!

[kit]

So lovely, Soulemama! I love hearing about the material connections between you and your ancestors -- and love thinking, myself, about how the feelings of joy & generosity as well as the tears & fury get mixed into cakes and casseroles and connect me to my grandmothers as I use their kitchen utensils, pans, and dishes (not to mention as I wear their sweaters and coats...). What amazes me is how many things different members of your family saved for their progeny! What a perfect bequest for a nostalgic and sentimental soul like you.

[hanna]

oh wow, what a touching story. I can totally relate.
I really must get back into making our bread now that the babe is 5 months and I feel that maybe, just maybe there is time in the day.

[Kate]

Amanda ~ What a beautiful post. I am a quiet reader out here off the coast of Seattle who finds so much peace and lovely inspiration from your wonderful blog. A mother of two 3 and 1 year old daughters, we have shared your blog with our regular moms/play group of the past few years. We are now all Creative Family lovers -- thank you for that! -- and love dreaming up fun for the kids from your great stepping off points. I'm sure today's bread memory post will bring up some lovely stories to share at today's meet up. Thank you again. You are a beautiful light!

[kosenrufu mama]

i love vintage things and their stories, their energy inside, as result of past lives...

[Leslie]

What wonderful memories, and beautifully expressed. You're lucky to have such a great reminder of your great grandmother.

[Steph]

I bet your great grandmother must have kneaded all her wonders and worries about the future into her dough on that board. What a beautiful thing that her hard work is honored and remembered by you in this way--who probably have so much of that woman in you. I hope your children's children's children honor you and your talents and strength likewise!

[Elizabeth]

Beautiful. Powerful. Inspiring.
Thank you.

[simplybysandi]

My maternal grandmother use to make fresh buttermilk biscuits every morning for breakfast. She kept her flour in an old wooden bowl under her counter (wrap in plastic to keep boweevils out)and only used it for the purpose of making those biscuits. She also used this one little juice glass to cut the biscuits out with. I have both the bowl and the glass and have tried many, many times to replicate her buttermilk biscuits. When she was still living I had her show me several times how she made her biscuits and for the life of me I have never gotten it right. I usually end up with biscuits that you could literally put a hole in your wall with! I have tried everything but to no avail. So I use the glass to cut cookies with and to cut the center out of bread for making eggs in a hole for my boys. And the bowl well it changes uses from time to time. It has been a fruit bowl, a bowl with my current knitting project in it, and various other uses. I still wouldn't think of not having it though. Someday I will master the art of buttermilk biscuits. Hopefully sooner than later. Thanks for your story about the bread board. Your writing always sparks in me a cherished memory of my own. I have been writing down little stories just like this for my boys to have about relatives they were not able to meet so they can get a glimpse into my childhood and the special bonds that made me who I am today.

[Sachi Smith]

i have to learn how to make our bread now!

[sizzle]

How beautiful.

[Penny in VT]

I have my great grandmothers butter paddle, and use it the four or five times a year we make butter. It's precious to me. Sometimes I think we make the butter just so I can use the paddle and feel the connection! Lovely post :)

[Angeleen]

Amanda, your post really struck a chord with me.

It sounds an awful lot like one I wrote about baking bread with my Grandmother back in November.

http://luckysevencatranch.blogspot.com/2007/11/walking-in-your-footsteps.html

There is just something about the simple act of baking bread that is so profound and intensely spiritual for me. I'm happy to know I'm not the only one. :)

We are the Sisters of the Bread Board!

[Erin K.]

I love to see that! I have recently inherited a crocekry bowl that my grandfather remembered his grandmother making bread in and I can't tell you the mothering high it give me to make bread with my two boys in the same bowl.

[Shannon]

My Dad remembers "the house on the Island". He tells of warm moments on the porch or under the kitchen table, listening to his great aunts tell stories. The men were at war. Five families lived in one house, all the women left with their many children. When he tells the stories, his eyes twinkle. I think of those women every day. They passed a work ethic and a love of family and sharing and entertaining (because, geesh, they needed to dance and have a drink and share good food!)to my father. He has passed that to me. I have some stories on tape, of my 5 great aunts telling stories at the kitchen table over tea because I did this paper on the "Island People" in an anthropological folklore class. I took pictures of items like your bread board, which anthropologists would call a "memory object". We must hold onto our memory objects and share stories to help pass the memories along.
Thanks for sharing yours.

[Stephanie]

What a beautifully-written tribute and reminder to be grateful for all we have. Thank you for sharing this story with us and for giving me a much-needed dose of perspective today.

[julia]

this is so beautiful amanda. the connection between ourselves and those who have come before us (especially when they're family members) is something that i think about often, often inspired by your words and images. thank you for these words, today and everyday.

[Caroline]

It's amazing how we connect with other people we've never met. I was named after my grandmother, who passed just 2 months before I was born. I inherited many skills from her, including one of my most coveted, sewing. My mother would have stapled a hem before sewing it! LOL! I always felt a kindred connection to my grandmother's soul!

On another note, my recent order from Amazon arrived today with your book in it!! I know, I'm a bit late..but I was trying to find it in the store, and couldn't seem to locate it without asking..and every time I'd gone to ask, no one was near the help desk! I was just destined to order it online :) I've got some good reading now that isn't strictly about HAVING babies :) yay!

[lissilulu]

Amanda, your post struck a nostalgic chord in so many women who read your post but it did something different for me.
It encouraged me....I am that mother parenting alone. I adore my children and strive each day to feed and clothe them to the best of my ability. I worry and pray ALOT.... People have told me how proud they are of me in the choices I am making in continuing my education and hanging onto our thread of home schooling through what is a very difficult time but until I read your post on how deep it touches women to see another forging ahead I didnt really believe their words. I have that blood of years gone by....work and love...ties that bind a family together. Learning to be proud of myself and my strength.
Thank you,
Lori

[Anneke]

The house of my grandmother is packed up with things-with-a-story. I love them all, strange, unneccesary, old, recyclable, worn out or handmade. It is a gift to use such things as we can feel connected with the past, living right now.

[Alyson]

What a treasure. I wish I knew more about my family history, but my parents don't seem to know much and I only have one grandmother left, who I have never been close to. I guess that's why I scrapbook, I want my kids to know at least as much as I do about our family.

[Andrea]

Beautiful post.
Simply beautiful.

[Krishawn]

Beautiful post. Brought tears to my eyes and made me miss my sweet little granny.

[Kaylee]

What a powerful post. I'm glad to see I'm not the only moved to tears. Life, motherhood. So powerful and sometimes overbearing. But the strength of our mothers and their mothers and their mothers are in us. And so we continue on. Passing down the love that was given to us.

[Bree]

... you have such a way with words. I get chills reading your stuff sometimes. You paint the most beautiful pictures for me that are so completely moving.