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Spadoman, like you I have and had interest in Native American Spirituality. I have lived here most of my life, and been aware of Native American everything all my life. Not that I understood it but it was there. I have always had Native American friends, and heck even relatives finally owned up to having some of the blood line, heh heh, others through marriage.
In college I studied Native American history, society, and religion, along with 3-4 years of the language. I have participated in many ceremonies, pow wows, sweat lodges etc.. I did likewise with the Japanese. I can say now that I have a better understanding of both societies, and practice somethings as I can. I'll leave it right here for now. I went to the site you suggested and loved it, thank you!
I grew up here in northern WI, most of my family did too. Grand parents came from Norway and my dad came from Yugoslavia, smuggled out just before WWI. We were not well- to -do, my parents never owned a car, but we got around somewhat. Family was always important to all of us, even extended family, my house was like a gathering place for it too, kind of funny in a way because we had the smallest house, but we would jam in there. Lot of food and laughter! Lots of wonderful memories also.
My grand parents lived in a little town southwest of here, just a handful of people, they had electricity, but no running water. There was another grand dad down the street who didn't have electricity either. That all meant that both places had outhouses. I was pretty young then, they were all gone by the time I was 9. But I still remember them, remember the smell as you came in the back shed. All places of the time had a shed attached to the back of the house to store fuel in the winter, apples , slop bucket, etc.. You never went to a relatives house without having lunch, cookies, sandwich, coffee and milk. I remember carrying water for them, filling kerosene lamps, carrying wood ect., as they were aging and I was told to do it. The town pump was about half a block away, across a little ravine, up a hill and pump away. As I remember it, it took a little while to master carrying the porceline pails without having wet pant legs and feet, not to mention a half pail of water!
My parents were strict, enforced respect for others, mainly company, ladies, elderly, etc.. The respect and discipline is with me to this day. When I got a whack up the back of my head, I deserved it. And all mom had to do was scowl in your direction, and you knew you were approaching a line. She also had what I call now, frisbee shoes, I swear she could throw them around corners and hit you, heh heh. And that was just a warning shot!
Until I left for the military, we never had a furnace, always wood and coal hand fired heat. And that is a whole other story. They finally got a gas furnace when I went in the military from the allotment checks sent home.
Growing up, most people had gardens in their yards, to supplement their income and food. From mid summer to mid fall I carried a salt shaker to sample the neighborhood goodies growing all over, carrots, rhubarb, tomatoes, onions, apples you name it.
I guess we live in a wonderful place yet, people will stop and talk to you when you are outside, people you don't know as well as those you know. If you have a fire in the firepit, everyone is welcome, neighbors amble back and forth , people walking by comment on the fire. It's wonderful to live in a neighborhood like this!
I guess I wasn't heading anywhere with all this, just sharing some of my past. Thanks for listening!