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Matty's avatar

As a small child one of my greatest joys was walking in the fall with my great grandmother through the fields to cut broom sage for the coming year’s brooms. She was a first generation Appalachian child of Irish immigrants and burned her broom on New Year’s Eve so she would start with a fresh broom each year. And, yes, she swept the entire house New Year’s Eve and put the debris (and all the year’s bad) to the road! Angled brooms were made for cleaning along the ceiling and in the corners; small round ones for sweeping crumbs from tabletops; and a wee brush for her to pluck a single stalk from to test the only thing she made well — Irish soda bread! How glorious there are still folk making brooms and sharing their wonder!

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MLEgan's avatar

I forgot about testing cake and bread with a broom straw, my grandmother did, too!

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Part 2 Of Your (Love?) Life's avatar

I love this saying from Fay Weldon:

'There was a romance, a reverence and a dignity about housework then: I look forward to the day it is revived. It is too easy to believe that because something is traditionally women's work, that it is worth nothing. On the contrary.'

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Claire's avatar

Great article. Fabulous pictures. Thank you.

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Linda Slow Growing in Scotland's avatar

Living in Edinburgh I took for granted Robert Cresser's brush shop in Victoria Street, which had been there for 100 years. Alas, not even being included on the Harry Potter (yuk) tours could save it, and it's now closed (HP fans say Victoria Street gave JKR the inspiration for Diagon Alley).

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Helen Sturgess's avatar

I always like the brooms and brushes in objects of use in oxford. Although sadly none has come home to live with me yet. Near me - in Canewdon - the six, or is it seven, witches that the village always have to have living there, signal their presence by crossed brooms of splendid type outside the front of their homes. They use these to fly around the church tower. Another corker of an article Jane. Thank you thank you for the effort and research you put into making my Sunday mornings in bed with tea such a joy.

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Penelope Graham-Jones's avatar

Just avoid the Disney version in the Sorcerer’s Apprentice!

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Angie's avatar

A shout out for my dustpan and brush please! What a coincidence we are both thinking about the non-plastic versions of sweeping. I have had my tin dustpan and wooden handled bristle brush for at least twenty years. Yes it is is shabby but still useable and I would never change it for a plastic version. I get enormous pleasure from seeing it hanging on the back of the pantry door, simply waiting to be of service

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Elizabeth's avatar

I think there are three classes of object that are fit for purpose and give me great joy: brushes and brooms for all different purposes; string/twine/rope, multitude of uses; and a decent basket. All sustainable, recyclable and eminently useful

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Amysue Chase's avatar

In recent years I’ve started “collecting” brooms/brushes (is it collecting if you use them?). Initially Japanese brushes for garden, but now I have Filipino brooms (my son-in-law laughs to see the broom he grew up with in my home too! Various brushes from other artists and they make me feel equipped for any cleaning task. They also bring me great peace knowing that the making of these useful objects brings together necessity-craft-art.

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Susan Hoyle's avatar

Wonderful. You make my Sundays. Thank you.

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Christine Jacob's avatar

J'adore, so interesting Jane. I love sweeping, and you have given me much to think about !! Xx

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Jill Wolcott's avatar

What beautiful brooms and brushes.

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Ramona Gault's avatar

Oh Jane, I just got around to reading this substack, and glad I did. I went to the link of the Beatles' photo session and studied all the photos of them posing with various objects. I'm 77 and gosh darn it I miss those guys and what they were! For example, in these photos they look (mostly) quite serious but somehow convey that it's all a prank to them, like little boys who won't confess to eating all the cookies but they know you know they did eat them! That joyous humor, which society has lost now. Okay, I'm being elegiac but can't help it. They really were special. Thank you for working them in to your substack every week!

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Rosemary Taylor's avatar

My brother and his wife were stationed in Little Rock Arkansas for a couple of years when he was in the RAF, on some kind of exchange. We took our boys to visit one summer and visited a folk museum up in the mountains whilst there. There were a number of traditional crafters working and we bought 2 brooms, the larger of which my sister in law brought back for us when their furniture was brought back to the UK. Don’t know what they are made of but they are beautiful and still going strong.

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Rhonda Strickland's avatar

Your brushes are beautiful! Enjoyed this very much.

My father grew up on a North Carolina farm, which we'd visit every summer. I was fascinated by my Granny's broom, so different from the store-bought brooms my mom and everyone's mom used, in our modern suburban Maryland homes. My grandparents grew tobacco, cotton and 'field corn'--corn to feed their chickens, hogs, and mules. I believe the straw she used to make her brooms must have come from the field corn. She wove the broomstraw together with 'tobacco twine'--a strong cotton thread, thick as yarn, used to tie bunches of green tobacco to long sticks that were placed on racks in the tobacco barn to be 'cured,' i.e. turned golden brown (and potent with nicotine) by dry heat, then sold at auction to cigarette companies.

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Kavitha's avatar

Lovely read! ❤️I have a memory of sitting and tearing long coconut leaves to collect their “spines” and make a broom with my grandmother.

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