A New Broom Sweeps Clean

I think about the future more and more.  I try to predict what life, both my own and the lives of those close to me, will be like in the years ahead.  Private and unspoken, I base predictions on what is happening now, politics and government, technology, how we interact with each other, the world around us.  I get my information from books, the papers on the driveway, the news delivered to my inbox and on my phone, and my own observations.

I try to gauge how  likely to happen these predictions really are.  When my predictions are dark I classify that thinking as worry and when they brighten I think of it as newly created hope.  I question how much time I devote to all this reading, thinking, worrying, and imagining.  I have a stack of topics I intend to write about, printed articles from newspapers and other content providers.  The future is fluid and the past gets old quickly.  Why am I not content to just live each day in the present?  Today’s blog tries to do that. 
        
As if it were a headline, the subject of this piece is actually a quiet labor of love.  I was given a handmade gift.  There is something about handmade gifts that makes them special.  Because it was made by a person I’ve come to know I realize exactly how it was made, what it was made of, and where it came from.  We own few things like that anymore.  When I do possess things with those qualities I value them immensely, regardless of cost or someone else’s idea of their worth.

This is what I’m talking about, a handmade locally sourced broom.

It was put together, crafted you might say, by Cynthia Main, of http://www.sunhousecraft.com.  My daughter got to know her, acquired this broom, and gave it to me.  She knows I don’t like a lot of things, but she also knows things like this please me. 

It’s not your mass produced broom from the cleaning supplies aisle at the grocery store.  Far from it.  It’s old school, starting with the bristles.  They’re made from broom corn.

You won’t see broom corn growing in the fields along Route 80, and its yield is not measured in bushels. It produces corn, kernels that form in small bunches at the ends of long stems.  That corn is stripped away and cut off.  What is important about broom corn, the real harvest, is the long resilient straw-like stems that make up the business end of the broom.  Before using the corn the broom maker soaks the large ends in hot water to make them more pliable for braiding. 

But the process starts with the handle, traditionally a branch cut from a sassafrass tree.  Sassafrass wood is lightweight and keeps it bark.  Its roots of course are dug in the spring and used to make a tea which is something of a spring tonic.

My Dad used to go to the timber on our farm with a spade and dig sassafrass in late March or early April.  He’d bring it home to my Mom who would shave the roots into little pieces and brew a pink colored tea to which we added sugar.  Sassafrass tea in early spring seemed to be a thing for my Mom and Dad, something they were annually happy about.  I’m just guessing it might have helped their marriage.  I digress.  Back to the broom.

The broom has four components.  Broom corn, a sassafrass stick, stout cord, and a leather thong.  At the top of the sassafrass handle a hole is drilled for a leather thong so you can hang the broom on a nail.  At the bottom of the broom, pieces of broom corn are tightly arranged in the preferred pattern; some round, others wide and flat, and attached to the handle.  The broom corn is intricately braided and secured with good strong string or cord.  On a flat broom that same cord is woven through the pieces of broom corn farther toward the end to maintain the flat shape of the broom and keep the broom corn tightly together.

It is said that broom makers can determine the maker of a broom by the pattern of the braid where the broom corn attaches to the stick.  Here is Cynthia Main’s braid, or at least the one she created the day she made my broom.

Some broom makers use wire for a more secure mounting, or small nails.  Mine appears to be just tightly wrapped with a blue string.  That’s the nice thing about these handmade brooms.  They are utilitarian, made to be used, and each contains the same basic elements.  But that same tool can be personalized, adding the maker’s art if you will.  Making brooms by hand is not just cranking out the same broom over and over.  Each broom has its own character.

My particular broom has an added dash of character.  When my daughter selected it among the many Cynthia had for sale she noticed a carving on the handle.

“What about this one?  Is it for sale?”

“Oh yeah.  That handle came from Gary Glasscock, an old broom maker and amazing human being from Missouri.  He and his partner Sherie might be angels, at least for my broom making.  They taught me a lot.  Gary’s father carved the face on that handle.  I think he’s probably passed now, Gary’s Dad that is.”

“You sure you want to sell it?”

“It’s for your Dad right?  I like his blog.  Sure.  I’m glad he’ll end up with that broom.”

I look at this face each time I use the broom and think of the carver.  I wonder who he was thinking of when he formed the face with his knife.  Maybe it was his face.  Maybe he made that same face over and over, trying to get it right.  Or maybe there was a cast of characters.  Whatever the case, I have this face now.

Thanks Moe, and thank you to Cynthia Main.  Thank you to Gary Glasscock.  Thank you to Gary’s Dad for passing along the broom making tradition to his son, and he in turn to Cynthia.  Thank you also for that small carving.  Your broom made it to the shack and is in good hands.  In complicated times, its not a bad idea to occasionally tune out and focus on good things around us.  Thanks for creating something solid and simple to latch onto.