Bowls, boxes, pans, pokes, pails and pitchers are the toting tools of country living. But the list lacks one.

Baskets. Baskets that bear, sort, protect and decorate. They’re tools, every one, much like shovels, axes and grubbing hoes.

Early baskets were simple and versatile, made with materials found close at hand, like pine needles, cattail leaves, corn stalks, and certain vines. Stout tree bark was often peeled green and curled into a cylinder, then its edges and bottom were laced shut with reeds or strips made from animal hide. A basket’s use, then as now, dictated its size, shape and strength. Bigger baskets meant fewer trips, but heavier loads…and the occasional broken basket. Chinese rattan, a fibrous stalk related to bamboo, is today’s material of choice and comes ready for soaking and use. Preparing natural materials requires much more effort and knowledge.

Decades ago, making baskets for sale weighed the time required against available cash, both of which often ranged from scarce to nonexistent. But a good hand at weaving had no lack of customers willing to barter.

Baskets were made for work, which is why their first makers were often men. In their minds, adding decorative frills stole spare time already short. That attitude would soon be challenged, turning ornate baskets into enormously popular folk art pieces fetching handsome prices. For example, a highly-decorated coiled basket made in 1920 is valued at $45,000.

In the heat and humidity of our southern coastal regions, sea grasses and the needles from longleaf pines serve well enough for light work or decorative pieces, but heavy-duty tasks demand tougher materials like “splits” peeled from cherry, maple, oak and walnut trees. Dyes provide color and highlight the wood’s grain, boasting of their weaver’s skills. Special or unusual touches add appeal and value. Decorative miniatures copy their more practical cousins, but can be no more than three inches tall.

We have an “Egg Basket” that’s 15 inches wide and trimmed in alternating bands of pale red and green rattan. Twisted twine and five rows of thin coral-colored cord secure the handle. Our favorite is a large “Honey Pot” style with a bowed Williamsburg handle attached at the basket’s wooden base. A single row of dyed squares simulate walnut and cherry, adding their soft colors in a two-inch band all around. Inside the open top is a narrow shelf made of laced rattan, half woven and half braided. A solid oak lid rests on the shelf, its knob inviting a peek inside.

Pat Andrews recalls her mother’s natural talents.

“Momma was good with her hands. Quilts, crocheting, knitting, painting; you name it, and she could do it.”

One day Mrs. Jessie Hill decided basket-making would be interesting, so she and her daughter went to classes as far away as Winston-Salem. In no time at all, this gifted lady was asked to make baskets at the annual Brinegar Days event, and show visitors how it’s done. A short hop from that led her to teach basketmaking at Wilkes Community College’s Sparta campus. News of her talents spread quickly and brought orders for “hundreds and hundreds” of baskets to be shipped all over the country. Preferring basket-making the “old timey way,” she rarely used dyes and stains.

“Momma liked every basket she ever saw! She made baskets until her hands couldn’t work anymore; almost until she died,” Pat tearfully recalled.

Pat Sexton, one of Mrs. Hill’s star pupils, began making baskets 12 years ago. She carries on the tradition and adds many innovations of her own. Several of her miniatures are decorated with tiny reed flowers – complete with stems and leaves - that display her great talent and patience. Their slender rattan handles are made of pencil-lead-thin fibers called “grape cane,” then wrapped with “carriage cane” filaments nearly as fine as human hair.

Several larger baskets are trimmed with paper-thin, stained wood curls perhaps an inch wide. The mouth of one has reeds woven into a “Rolled Gretchen Border,” resembling a sweater’s shawl collar. Another has a “cat-head” bottom in which the four corners protrude slightly as feet. Seen upside-down, they resemble a cat’s ears. Pat’s small “natural” creation on the mantle contrasts interlaced brass and reed strips with a fibrous, chocolate-colored mouth.

If basket-making sounds like a good winter project for you, contact the Sparta campus of Wilkes Community College and sign up for a class. The eight-week course is just $55, plus the materials’ cost. Mrs. Sexton has taught people in their 20s and others in their 70s. “Senior” students get a price break.

Pat Andrews, “Miss Jessie’s” first basket-making partner, is a pupil in this term’s class, learning new ideas from the lady her mother taught so well. Hand-made baskets will always recall love from times past.