A TRIP TO THE ATTIC

Wiley tactician that I am, I knew the mice would return to the scene of their successful bread raid the previous night. In the process of investigation and cleaning, I found another spot (in the den under the gun rack, of all places), where I thought we might successfully ambush. After dinner last night, I loaded an old plate with bread and cake crumbs and left it near the toaster. Then I gave instructions to the trap-setter to leave the area laden with traps.

I was awake at 5:45 this morning. I like to get up early, but I stayed in bed trying to outwait Mike. Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. I put on my robe and crept to the kitchen to survey the damage. Score! We got two in the kitchen and one under the gun rack. Yes! And there’s not a scratch coming from the walls today.

The farmhouse attic has been floored and is useful for storage. We access it by means of pull-down stairs. Getting up there is manageable. I can do it by myself.

The mice are getting into the walls somehow, so an exploratory trip to the attic was in order. We could see that the three circular holes in the attic floor relating to recessed lighting in the closets had been used by the mice and might provide easy egress to the walls. We never use the lights, so we decided it wouldn’t hurt to cover the holes with plastic buckets, Cool Whip containers, or even this old wooden bowl that’s been kicking around in the farmhouse ever since I can remember. Even though it really didn’t matter, I decided to give the bowl a cursory cleaning. That’s when I saw the word “Munising” on the underside. I couldn’t help myself. It was an opportunity to research.

 

The bowls were machine-lathed at a factory in Munising, MI, which operated between 1911 and 1955, and sold through department stores. During World War II, the company made tent stakes for the government. After the war, the bowls became fancier, decorated by artisans with paint, and those command more money in today’s collectors’ market. In 1955, the company closed, unable to compete with plastics and imported wood products.

 

Could our bowl have been a gift to Grandma Ina? Maybe. Whatever – it did not get much respect in this place, even before my time. It feels sticky and grimy. I know my dad loved the myrtle wood bowls available on the coast, but I think he saw this bowl as common, readily available department store stuff. And in light of his time, he may have been right. Fifty-five years after the factory closed, a lot of items manufactured there are available through online sellers. Obviously whoever used our bowl didn’t understand how to care for it. Mike and I will try to revive it. I would never serve food in a wooden bowl, but it might be lovely filled with country apples, prunes, or pine cones.

Hmmm. I seem to remember an old wooden spoon tucked away in my utensil drawer. Ah yes! Here it is. This curved spoon seems such a nice accompaniment to the bowl. Were they a set? Maybe so, though I saw only straight spoons in my research.

Oh, and I also brought down this painting by Helen Hoff Aupperle, an artist and also art teacher in Idaho Falls. She was a contemporary of my uncle, Earle Dobson, who taught in Idaho Falls for nearly 30 years, retiring about 1960. Maybe the painting was a gift from Mrs. Aupperle, or maybe he bought it because he wanted a sample of her work. I remembered it for its color and what I felt was a ‘40s/’50s appeal. I thought it might be good in my town sewing room, but alas! I also remembered it smaller.  KW