Growing up, my father used to embark on a rousing melody of “Over the River and Through the Woods” on just about any family car trip that occurred between Thanksgiving and Christmas. (Or at least that is what it felt like to my five-year-old self.) We knew the words by heart, although not quite as Lydia Maria Child penned them back in 1844 in her original poem by the same title. Her original poem included the refrain “Hurray for Thanksgiving Day,” yet nowadays, the refrain heard at the end is most often, “Hurray for Christmas Day.” 

I have on occasion caught myself singing the same song to my daughter when we embark on a long car trip, although she is not as accommodating as we were back then. Her immediate response is usually, “Mom, you’re embarrassing me.” Right.  

Regardless of whether you’re going over the river and through the woods or flying halfway around the world, the holidays have a way of pulling us home, bringing us back to our roots. There’s no doubt something comforting about the sights, smells, and sounds of being “home.”  

Although I am not going home this holiday season—my family is scattered, and my childhood home is no longer in the family—I did go “home” over the summer. I took my daughter on a whirlwind tour of Cape Cod and had the good fortune to be joined by my co-founder and her daughter for our adventure. (Ellen previously wrote about our experience and ALL THOSE PHOTOS here.) 

For me, it was a trip down memory lane, for them, it was a new and exciting adventure. The Old Dexter Grist Mill was a fun and historically interesting spot; for me it wasn’t just the Grist Mill, but one of our favorite fishing spots growing up. Kayaking the marshes around Sandwich, MA was a unique way to appreciate the diverse marsh ecosystem; for me it was reliving countless afternoons creek jumping and mucking about in marsh boots that always seemed to be two sizes too big.  

I wish I had Artifcts “back in the day” so I could have captured my childhood home and all the memories. I still remember the details, small and large, that made my home “my home.” The butcher block countertops that hugged our kitchen, the white couch we were only allowed to sit on for photos, and yes, even our front door with its cranberry red trim and large granite slab front step.  

For those of you that are going “home” this holiday season—take a moment to remember your roots and capture the sights, sounds, and memories of being home. Artifct your favorite room in the house or maybe even the whole house! Your future self will thank you.  

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© 2022 Artifcts, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Oseyo? Oseyo: A modern Korean restaurant tucked in near downtown Austin, Texas. What attracted us at Artifcts to owner and restauranteur Lynn Miller's story about Oseyo was the roots, plural. 

Lynn attributes Oseyo’s traditional Korean food—rich in vitamins and minerals that are only enhanced by quintessential preparations such as fermentation—to her father's ability to defy the odds and survive his terminal cancer diagnosis for nearly two years beyond doctors’ original expectations. This experience contributed to Lynn later advancing her learning in food as a healing art and gaining experience in cooking for special dietary needs at the Natural Epicurean Academy of Culinary Arts. 

Then, there's the reality that had Lynn’s tween-aged daughters not stubbornly urged her to reconsider an opportunity to purchase the restaurant space in central Austin, Oseyo would have been nothing more than a dream! When and why do we put our dreams on the shelves? How amazing is it to raise children who would be so bold and loving to see this dream in their mother and urge her toward it? 

And finally, you guessed it, the artifacts. The original recipes of Oseyo were derived from Lynn's mother's family recipes. You could argue the recipes are not your version of "traditional Korean," because what does “traditional” necessarily even mean? Does your mother cook the same marinara sauce as your neighbor? We didn’t think so. But family recipes are beautiful artifacts (and now Artifcts, too!). Oseyo is also elegantly and cozily decorated with family heirlooms, modern, dramatic art created by Lynn's husband, and upcycled and vintage finds.

Click any image below to view the Artifct.

We hope to return again and again for bites, but also to learn about new artifacts, including new recipes from Oseyo's executive chef Mike Diaz whose Mexican heritage plays so excitingly and surprisingly with the original Korean recipes at the very heart of Oseyo.

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© 2022 Artifcts, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Today we are inviting you to delve into the world of Artifcts with us through what we fondly refer to as “chasing histories.” What we mean is chasing the details about objects that pass through our lives. Why would we do this?  Because we suspect they should have meaning and value if someone has chosen to hold onto them and yet no one you talk with seems clear on the details. The keepers of these objects have lost the thread of the histories behind them.  

And these lost histories leave us, the keepers, to wonder – do we even keep the thing? Why not sell, donate, or rehome it instead? One may think, “It has to go, because I have a small home, it’s ugly, it smells funny, it’s something I don’t want, …” unless maybe you give me a good reason! 

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In a period of history when story is king, we still somehow find we have a lot of stuff and relatively little meaning to go with it. We’re stuck chasing histories to bring back heritage and bring forward memories.  

As you might imagine, the Arti Community has done a lot of history chasing since Artifcts was launched last year, so we thought we would introduce the idea of chasing histories with a few of our own. We hope to inspire you along the way to Artifct those histories now—the ones you know, the ones you are creating daily—to avoid the potential pain, uncertainty, and loss later. And we certainly hope that you have fun doing it.  

The gold watch was in a bin of pegs. 

This was my mother's watch. I found it cleaning out one of the spare bedrooms. It was buried in a box with the old wooden pegs we used to have/use to hang plant baskets. We can't remember her ever wearing the watch. Read more >

But where did this silver come from?

A well worn jumble, seldom polished nowadays. And, I love it. Just think of all the family members whose hands have touched these through the years. Read on >

This brooch is so special.

So special that we know almost nothing about other than the aunts each wore it on their wedding days. Where did my grandmother get this brooch from? And when and why was it made? I tried all my aunts. I tried reaching out to my grandmother's sister through a cousin, but no luck yet. Read on >

Why, yes, my bible is shedding. 

My siblings and I have a lot of questions but few answers with these Bibles. We weren’t overly religious growing up, so imagine our surprise finding them on a bookshelf in the garage, nearly adjacent to a set of golf clubs and a snowblower. And one is in German. If only we knew. Read more >

Go get your histories! And happy Artifcting.

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 Maybe you see a bit of yourself and your family in these stories?

We'd love to hear from you at Editor@Artifcts.com. We may feature your experience in a future story here on ARTIcles.

© 2022 Artifcts, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

I had to go say hello. I've never known her! 

My Great Aunt Muriel is 97 years old and has spent roughly 75 years of her life in Tucson, AZ. For the record (and in my defense), I grew up in Wisconsin. We weren't exactly neighbors. 

This visit to Great Aunt Muriel was born out of curiosity, frustration, and fear. 

To me, she's somewhat of a legend. I've heard my parents talk in awe of her in recent years, remarking on her independence and mental sharpness. Others told me she is feisty and opinionated. I was curious. I also kept thinking, "You do know that I think I missed my calling as a lawyer, right?" I bet she and I will get along just fine! 

My frustration was about how difficult it is to gather and preserve family history without it being your primary occupation or hobby. Chasing histories, I call it. And I'm not talking about black and white details that sit in databases behind paywalls of newspapers and genealogy sites. I'm talking about the stories that connect those details - the lives lived, the legends created, the humanity of it all. Within my own family I heard drips and drops about distant relatives going off in the gold rush, for example. Who were they? When did they go? What became of them? Any details at all or am I really just stuck with family lore?  

And, of course, fear - Aunt Muriel's now an only. She's the last of her generation. My cousin put it into interesting perspective, "Just think, she's the last who knew our parents as infants!" Time is absolutely our enemy if I want to know her and to know pieces of the family's past. If I wanted her insights and advice, her laugh-out-loud replays of historical moments, the only time was now. 

If you stop reading here and venture like Alice down the rabbit hole of Artifcts we created together and are featured below, let me tell you what you'll discover from these Artifcts: This woman was radically more than advertised. I hope you have a Great Aunt Muriel in your life. Go. See. Her. Today! And listen, a lot. 

Click any image below to view the related Artifct.

When I arrived in Tucson, Great Aunt Muriel was prepared. She had photos and mementos, stories and family lore, all ready to share. And with her permission, I'm sharing a few of those Artifcts we created together with you. Of the many worries Great Aunt Muriel had for the future, lost connection and family bonding was clearly chief among them. Let these Artifcts inspire your own conversations with loved ones. 

You could say this was time well spent. Well spent visiting. Well spent Artifcting. 

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© 2022 Artifcts, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 

Sometimes collections sneak up on you. You may not realize it as you browse through tin spoons in a souvenir shop, or rummage through stamps at a yard sale. Yet, when you get back home, you might realize as you go to put your newfound treasures away, wow, I have a lot of those spoons, stamps, you name it!  

This is the story of  @Grandmom, and her secret-not-so-secret coin collection.  

Grandmom never set out to collect coins per se. She's a world traveler, and enjoys bartering in local markets, from Kathmandu to Liberia. Grandmom has always found that she can get a great deal if she offers to toss in an American coin or two. And, when she’s lucky, she gets back local coins and currencies.  

Forty years and just as many (if not more) countries later, Grandmom has quite a coin collection. Not just a couple of bowls of coins by her bedside table. Nope, we’re talking bins and bins of coins and currencies from all over the world. Some date back to the 1800s!  

The funny thing is, she never explicitly told anyone about it. Her grown sons vaguely recall, “Yeah, she might have had a coin collection.” Her grandkids had no clue either. Imagine our surprise one Sunday afternoon when she pulled out the bins (and bins) of coins and asked for help to identify a couple of her favorites as she can no longer remember when or where she got them, “It was so long ago.” 

Got a secret-not-so-secret collection on your hands? Don’t know where to start? Grandmom’s got a couple of tips to share when going through collections that may have snuck up on you over time.  

1. Start with your favorites. Which ones do you like the most? What can you remember about them? Don’t worry if you can’t remember everything. You can always go back and add more details later. This is one of Grandmom’s favorite coins.  
2. Are there any unique pieces that you think others should know about? Grandmom has all the stories in her head, but she’s started to Artifct some of the more unique pieces of her collection to make sure that her family knows the details, like these Victory nickels.  
3. Pair travel photos with coins from that location to tell the story. It’s a great way to connect the “what” (the coin) with the experience (the trip, the memories). Can’t remember the exact details? Knowing just the trip and some of your favorite memories from that trip is easily enough to tell the story and connect the dots.  

Have a surprise collection to share? We’d love to feature you! Reach out to us at Editor@Artifcts.com.  

Happy Artifcting! 

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© 2022 Artifcts, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

From the ages of five to nine, little Nancy lived in the farm country of Missouri on a parcel of land with a house, corn bin, smoking shed, and barn all built by her grandpa. Life for her grandfather had been simple by today's standards. If he needed something, and it wasn’t easily accessible from the farm, he built it. If only we were all so resourceful!
 

Some of the artifacts of his life speak directly to the resourcefulness of this everyday inventor. The screwdriver does not fit well in your hand? I’ll make a new handle. The meat needs efficient parceling in the smokehouse? Here’s a one-of-a-kind twine winder. The cabbage shredding makes a mess of the kitchen during each batch of kraut making? Here’s new tray to contain and slice it. Check out the Artifct  Inventions of the Everyday Inventor. >
 
The biggest tale Nancy grew up hearing was how her grandparents were the first in the area to have electrical power and running water. Her grandfather had installed the wiring and plumbing on the farmstead himself. Of course he did.

The tale no one thought to share was that Grandpa was not just an everyday inventor. Documents show that Stark W. Craddock held patent #1,418,778 for the “Permutation Lock,” issued on June 6, 1921, by the US Patent Office. He truly was an inventor even in the professional sense. “But never mind that,” he’d surely have said.

Page 1 of Stark W. Craddock's patent for the Permutation Lock. Click to view the Artifct.

This history had faded from Nancy’s family lore. In some ways it was a sad tale, too, which may have been partly to blame. Nancy’s mother grew up following her father around, talking through his projects and processes with him. But back in the 1940s, little girls could not grow up to be engineers. No. So when her little brother Jr. eventually came along, it was he who trailed after their father and grew up to be an engineer for IBM.

Stark Craddock family, Missouri, c. 1930. Click to view the Artifct.

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© 2022 Artifcts, Inc. All Rights Reserved.