The Cradle Board

The cradle board, or papoose carrier, served (and in some areas still serves) as home to a native infant. Securely bound to the thin rectangular board, the baby could be carried on its mother's back or placed out of the way while she worked. The design of the board prevented injury to the child even if the board were to fall over (in many types a hoop or bow at the top of the cradle board served to protect the infant's head). The exact form varied from group to group throughout the continent, but almost invariably considerable energy was spent decorating the cradle board and its fittings.*







*Quoted from The Canadian Encyclopedia

The Sleeping Position

This has become Ella's sleeping position. When she was a newbie, she liked to be swaddled tightly in her blanket with her arms at her sides. Now, though, her arms have to be free and ready for stretching, waving, and air punching. Or just lying sweetly on either side of her head.

Update: While she does prefer to have her hands out, I've found that she sleeps much better (and goes to sleep quicker) if she's tightly wrapped in her blankets. So when it's sleepin' time, it's swaddlin' time.

The Belly Button

Ella's belly button came off today with a little help. Bobchi tells me that I'm meant to keep it ("For good luck!").

Bobchi knows something about this, as I found out first-hand. One day, while cleaning out a bedroom closet at her place, I came across an old and dusty toolbox. Flipping back the lid, I came across a small cloth bag that was tied up with string. My curiosity peaked, I pulled the string off and up-ended the bag into my hand. Out dropped a shriveled bit of yellowed... something.

"What's this???" I asked, turning it over in my fingers and examining it closely.

Bobchi smiled. "It's Carol's belly button."

Now, I wouldn't call myself an obsessive compulsive -- yet. But I'm just waiting for some incredibly creepy-crawly germy rotten disgusting thing to come along and push me over the edge into full-blown germaphobia. Something, for instance, like accidentally touching plus-fifty-year-old human jerky.

So you might understand, then, why my reaction to this bit of information was something to the effect of: "Gaaaauuuugggghhh!!!"

Bobchi and Carol quickly told me that this is quite a common practice (in this neck of the woods, anyhow). Carol even has the carefully preserved bellybuttons of all three of her girls tucked away on a closet shelf. What she's planning to do with them, I haven't the foggiest, but they're there in case anyone ever needs them.

So now Julie is saying she might like to keep Ella's bellybutton, too. Carrying on the family tradition of embalming, I suppose. In any event, it looks like this little bit of Ella might just be hanging around (creepily) as long as she does.

The Big Comfy... Shoes

Thanks, Granny!