While waiting for my groceries be delivered this morning, I have been cleaning up my kitchen. I seem to have a talent for messing it up. While working on that, a couple of things occurred to me.
While washing dishes I came upon a set of measuring spoons. Made of maybe aluminum. Connected by a metal ring. The same measuring spoons I used at age 11 when my mother taught me how to bake cookies and cakes and bread.
There is an aluminum coffee pot sitting on my stove. One of those that comes apart. Pot on the bottom, basket for coffee grounds next, container for hot water next and the lid. This coffee pot is older than I am, and that is saying a lot! It was the first coffee pot my parents had after they married in 1945. Dad gave it to me when my handy dandy Mr. Coffee machine went belly-up. Still makes really good coffee!
There is a Singer sewing machine in a small cabinet sitting in a corner. Sadly, there is some rust on it due to being stored in a damp basement for a number of years. I need to have it restored. There is one part that I want to leave as is. The piece on top that held a spool of thread broke off. My Dad, ever frugal, replaced that part with a good-sized nail. Works just fine. This sewing machine was purchased in the mid 1950's. Mother taught me how to sew on this machine.
I'm pretty sure these items mean nothing to the younger set in my family. Nobody uses what Dad called a "drip-o-later' coffee pot anymore. And who sews their own clothes now days.
It isn't the items. It's the memories and the stories connected to the items. Measuring spoons used by me when Mother's hands became too crippled with arthritis to knead bread anymore. The spoons remind me of making loaves and buns and cinnamon rolls, all while standing on a chair at the kitchen counter so I could reach the bread dough.
Sipping a cup of the best coffee ever, made in that old pot. Remembering that while in their home, there was always a cup of coffee within reach. Or teasing them about having a coffee addiction when they couldn't drive 20 miles from home without a thermos of coffee in the back seat.
Learning to sew on that Singer sewing machine and winning a blue ribbon for a skirt and blouse entered at the 4-H building at the County Fair. Or the wool plaid skirt Mother made for me. Or the little dresses I sewed on that machine for my own daughters.
Maybe these things and the stories are only important to this old lady, but still, I would hope that someday they might be of interest to those I will leave behind. Someday. Not any time soon, but someday.
Indeed, Vicki, it truly ISN'T the stuff, but the memories that they trigger. The all-glass Pyrex coffee pot we use is the exact same model my grandmother used. As a kid I could "watch it work" as it made the coffee we enjoyed while visiting after church. The pot is circa 1951, the first year that model was made. The pliers My son uses to work on his car; the same ones I found in the road as a kids while delivering papers. Sometimes it's the wear and tear in the house that does the talking; the well-worn brass thumb latch and handle on the front door, shiny as if it was polished an hour ago, denoting the generations of people who entered the house. The path that leads from the house to the barn, worn and packed from being trod by hundreds of pairs of feet. Using that stuff. Going through that door. Trodding out to the barn. In these ways we live in the present while connecting to and touching the past... In these ways we become a part of history...
ReplyDeletePete...That's the whole point. I know very little about the paternal side of my family. I have a few memories of my grandmother who lived until I was 9 years old. But I know very little about my grandfather who died 10 years before my birth. I know he was a farmer and a logger. I know that he could "chord" on a piano and that he sometimes sang at local weddings and funerals. I know that he was the father of 9 children. But because nobody talked about him, I know no more. And that is a shame. I want my kids and grands to know their family history. These memories are a part of that.
DeletePS, Pete...Your mentioning the well-worn path to the barn triggered a memory. My paternal grandparents lived in northern Minnesota. On their small farm was one of those paths between house and barn. As a child, while visiting Grandma, an uncle would take me by the hand and walk with me down that path so I could go play with the barn cats. When I close my eyes, I can still see the light from the kerosene lamp that lit the path, sparkling off the snowflakes in winter. It was like a fairyland to a small girl.
DeleteThank you.
Boy, did your comment stir the memories. I just went back in time to the years when Mom sewed pajamas and skirts and blouses for us. She had a Singer also, purchased at Sears, I imagine, as were many items in our home. I have her fruit processer, cone shaped sitting on a tripod base with a wood dasher. Many summers watching her put up jams and jellies. Her hands were rarely idle, in evenings she would ,crochet or embroider something or repair clothing.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the trip into times passed, precious memories they are.
Lucky...I'm pretty sure Mom's sewing machine came from Sears as well. And that cone shaped fruit processor? I can see mine, formerly Mother's, sitting on a shelf. Hands were never idle in my family, either. Knitting or crochet work or hand sewing were, and still are, evening activities. My son asked me to write down family memories, so I do. I am grateful the memories won't be lost to time.
DeleteLong time reader, I do believe 1st time to comment, I do apologize. Oh the memories that came back to me reading your precious memories. The memories I have of being w/my Grannie Oma & Grandma Evelyn + a bonus Grandma Sarah (the Good Lord above knew I’d be a handful) are the most precious treasures. I still keep to the old ways for the most part. I just finished a top & 2 skirts for myself & a dresss for my granddaughter. I have been searching for a coffee pot like you have. All I can find are the regular percolators made in china. I’ll hold out in hopes to find one along the trail. Thanks for the trip down memory lane…
ReplyDeleteCheryl...How lucky you are to have had a bonus Grandma. My Grandmas provided some of my best memories. Like my Grandma who, after toddler me had left sticky handprints on a cupboard door, wouldn't let my mother wash them off because, after all, those were her granddaughter's handprints!!
DeleteIt is nice to know that there are some who still sew their own clothes. That activity was a way of life for me for many years. My sewing machine is still running, but now it is mostly quilt tops that are the end result.
I believe it to be important to keep the old ways alive. Sewing. Baking bread. Making the morning coffee in an old drip coffee pot. Those who went before us managed quite well without all of the modern conveniences. Grandma raised 9 children. Running water was a hand pump out in the front yard. The bathroom was an outhouse. Food was cooked and canned on a cast iron wood burning stove. We don't have to live that way, but we should at least know how.
Good to hear from you. Thanks for the comment.
Vicki, Memories are often encased in humble objects, seemingly worthless to most. I wrote this ten years ago. ..Of a Christmas Past...there is a little bell that has hung on our Christmas tree for more than 50 years...always carefully placed in the low branches...a cheap little bell from a plastic cane full of candy and added as an ornament to the tree...long ago we also had a little white kitten with one blue and one green eye...the only offspring of dear old Mama Puss allowed in the house...Baby Puss grew into a handsome big cat...one year in the wee hours on Christmas Day, Mom swore she heard a bell ringing...Dad found Baby Puss carefully tapping the bell...ringing in the Joy of Christmas Morning...Baby Puss is long gone, but ever after we always made sure we hung the bell for Baby Puss...
ReplyDeleteDon...What a wonderful Christmas memory. And I love the fact that you wrote that memory down. I am doing the same with my family memories while I can still remember. To many, that little bell would just be a worthless trinket. But attached to the memory of a well-loved pet, it becomes priceless!
DeleteMemories of pets are high on my list of good things. My black cat "Charlie" who made it his job to seek out bits of food to be knocked from kitchen counter to floor for my black and tan Cocker Spaniel to eat. My part Irish Setter dog named Ted who learned to ring the doorbell at the first sounds of thunder on a summer day. Thank you for reminding me of the great pet memories!
The old singer sewing machine reminded me of both of my grandmothers. One of which was an actual treadle that was changed over to electric after much use in its previous state. One year, for Christmas, I opened up quite a large box that was my gift from my grandparents. I was overwhelmed by what I found inside. My grandmother had sewn so many outfits and dresses for my Barbie doll. Doll clothes bought at the store were expensive and poor quality. These doll clothes were magnificent and made with the same quality she put into her clothes and quilts that she made. I think there had to be close to 20 different items, including formal wear, which was a very popular thing back in the 60's. Several years later, I attempted to make Barbie clothes myself and I did not succeed. It is putzy and takes a lot more savvy and patience than I had. i then realized how much time and effort and love she had to have poured into making those clothes for me so many years ago. Later, I gave all of my Barbie items, including the Barbie dolls to my sister. Unfortunately, they are likely gone, as my sister passed away last year at the age of 61 and her husband's family have taken responsibility for clearing out and selling and disposing of their many items and would not have realized what a precious thing those clothes etc. would be to me. I am glad to see you still blog occasionally. Only thing is I forget to check so am behind on reading. And as far as the Trump administration and what has been happening just in the last few weeks - I'm with you 100%. Ranee
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ranee, for sharing your walk down Memory Lane. If ever I heard of a gift of love, the Barbie Doll clothes your Grandmother made for you would be it! My daughters had Barbie Dolls back in the day. Even though I have sewn nearly my entire life, there is no way I would attempt sewing Barbie Doll clothes. I have all the patience in the world for sewing bits of fabric together for quilts, but I know that patience could never extend to the patience your Grandmother must have had!!
DeleteYour mention of the treadle sewing machine brought to mind my dear Mother-in-Law, who loaned me her treadle machine when I wanted to sew clothes for myself and a couple of my kids before I could afford a newer model machine. I really enjoyed using it - so much so that I postponed buying a new sewing machine for a while so I could continue using the treadle. :)
And yep...watching the news lately is sort of like watching a three-ring circus where the performers are all on the Left and the entertainment is watching their heads explode. Don't know if things in DC will change, but at least now we have a fighting chance.
God bless.