Throwback Thursday: Woman with an Infant and a Buggy

LADY WALKING WITH BABY—“Wonder whose buggy this is? Hope they don’t mind that I borrow it.”

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Memory Monday: What Would You Save?

my husband, his grandmother, and our daughter

WHAT WOULD YOU SAVE?

The other evening, my husband and I were watching a movie on TV. A question was asked during that move that has had me thinking ever since—If your house were burning down and you could grab one thing to save, what would it be?

Now you notice, the question didn’t ask who would you save, so I guess that I’m the only one in the house. So what one THING would I grab? We don’t have any expensive artwork or anything like. There are lots of family “treasures” in our home. But for the most part, those things are only treasures because I have personal memories of them. As I have said before, most of those things aren’t things my children will want. Then there are lots and lots of photo albums, but I can only take ONE item. Which one of those books of pictures, would I choose—the one of our wedding, the one containing pictures of our daughter’s first year, our son’s? Or one of the several others that contain photos of our families (my husband’s and mine) through the years?

I have decided what the one thing is that I would grab—my external hard drive. It contains all of the stories I have ever written (some of which I might revise and publish one day), as well as much documentation for different things. It also contains a lot of our family pictures—especially those from several generations back. I know I need to scan more photos into that drive (from all those photo albums), but what I have now would be a good selection to pass down to our children.

If you had to choose ONE ITEM to grab from your burning house (and yes, assuming you had the time), what would it be?

Throwback Thursday: Two Children on a Carpet

Child without hat—“Is this the eclipse they were talking about?”

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Memory Monday: Treasures to Trash through the Generations

My grandfather and step-grandmother

TREASURES TO TRASH THROUGH THE GENERATIONS

My paternal grandfather lived in his house from the early 1910s until he moved into a nursing home in the late 1970s. There were so many “treasures” in that house, and I inherited three of them— the crystal stemware with matching plates, a bedroom suite, and a gold-upholstered chair. I used to stand next to the china cabinet at my grandparents’ house and make up stories about those dishes (with a family containing five small children, we never had crystal stemware). I was never allowed to open the cabinet and touch anything inside, but I loved it. After my step-grandmother passed away and my grandfather moved in with my parents, my grandfather gave me the crystal. The bedroom suite was always in my grandparents’ bedroom, although it was really the “everything” room since that was where everyone gathered to visit. Kitchen hairs were brought in so the adults had a place to sit while the children sat on the floor or played outside. The bed had tall, slender posts on the corners and all the grandkids swung on them. The dresser was one of those old-fashioned kind (as far as today goes) with the center lower than the drawers on the sides. It had three arched mirrors at the back—two of them hinged to the center one. After my grandfather passed away, my father said I could have that bedroom suite one day.  There was a wing-backed chair in the parlor of my grandparents’ house and my younger sister and I would take turns playing princess with that chair and the sit-down dresser in the front (guest) bedroom. It made for a lot of fun memories.

The years have moved on. The crystal is in its own special cabinet in my kitchen and I will hand it down to my daughter when she get a house. The bedroom suite stayed with my mother after my father died. When she passed, it came to me. My daughter has some memories of it in my mother’s house—she slept in it when she would spend the night there. She wants it for her daughter when she gets old enough to sleep in a full-size bed. That gold “princess” chair was willed to my older sister, but she didn’t care for it, so it stayed at my house. Neither one of my children want it, so I’m not sure what will happen to it after I’m gone.

The lesson I’ve learned from all this is that family “treasures” might only be treasures if there are memories connected to them. I can’t pass my memories to my children, so I can’t expect them to love the things I treasured. But that is only as it should be. They will create new memories and will treasure other things. Hopefully, the things they don’t want will become treasures to others who will create memories of their own and those things will become treasures again in another family.

Throwback Thursday: Cowboys and One Cow

All these cowboys and just one cow?

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Memory Monday: Sometimes Things from the Past Are the Best

SOMETIMES THINGS FROM THE PAST ARE THE BEST

Lately when my husband and I babysit our granddaughter, we’ve noticed that she loves to play with a certain toy—a plush tomato from Veggie Tales. It was our daughter’s when she was much younger. I understand my granddaughter being attracted to that certain toy because she has started eating tomatoes, but only the small, yellow ones. Still, they are tomatoes, or “tatoes” as she calls them. By the way, this can get a little confusing—I’m not sure if she is asking for tomatoes or potatoes.

But I am most surprised by the TV show that she asks to see. We have cable, Netflix, and Amazon Prime, but the show she wants to see the most is from 1956—GUMBY. There is only one season on Amazon, so we have watched it and re-watched it. When other shows come on, she plays with her toys as she watches Little Einsteins, Paw Patrol, Sesame Street, or Thomas the Train. But with Gumby, she pulls up a chair and sits there fascinated by the show.

So, that’s something from my daughter’s childhood that she loves and one thing from my childhood. And as a very loving (but never an indulgent) Grandmommy, I ordered our granddaughter poseable Gumby and Pokey figures from Amazon this morning. They should be here the day after tomorrow—just in time for her to play with them for one day before she starts her first day of Preschool Three. Who knows, maybe those dolls will be passed down to the next generation to be played with as my great-grandchild watches Gumby on whatever will be used to show ancient shows to children.

Throwback Thursday: Three Women Chatting

The latest from my "old and known" file

Woman standing—“And this is proof positive that 100% of women who sit will cross their left leg over their right.”

Memory Monday: Children and Their Hair

my daughter in a bonnet that hid her almost bald head

CHILDREN AND THEIR HAIR

From the time our daughter was born until she was in elementary school, she never had her hair cut. It wasn’t because we were against getting her hair cut (although my husband loved long hair on girls). When she was born, she had a nice covering of brown hair. Everything changed when she was about five months old. We had stopped at the grocery store for an item or two—not enough to get a cart or anything. While the checker rang up my purchase, I laid my daughter on the end of the counter and pulled back her blanket so she wouldn’t get too hot. I was shocked when I pulled the sides of that blanket away from her head—most of the hair from the sides of her head stayed with the blanket. Basically, all she had left was the strip on top of her head and to long tufts above each ear. I was able to twist the two tufts above her ears into pin curls which held those plastic blow clips. And I loved dresses that had matching bonnets, like the one in the picture above. Her hair grew back slowly and when her hair was long enough, I put her hair up in pigtails—so no need for a haircut for years.

Now, our son was a different matter. He was born with a full head of black hair and never lost any of it like his sister had. I still remember how my husband gently held down that poor screaming baby (he was only about 5 months old) and told me to trim his hair—my husband didn’t like long hair on boys. Well, I cut my son’s hair as his face turned red from screaming. But after that day, I made it a point to take a snip here and a snip there whenever I had him playing with this bath toys. I don’t think he ever caught on. But eventually that didn’t work because I wasn’t very good at shaping his hair properly. So I took him to a barber shop. Only problem was that the place scared the little three-year-old. I tried to talk him into sitting in the chair, but he cried and the female barber said that she wouldn’t cut his hair with him so upset. In defeat, we went home, but amazingly, a few minutes later as we were watching Sesame Street, the skit with the haircut song came on. We sang with the characters and I got my son to agree to go back and get his hair cut. This time the barber was able to make my baby look like a little boy.

As a new generation has come to our family, our daughter took my granddaughter to get her first haircut. At the children’s hair salon, they have a TV for the children, there is a play area, and when the hair cut was over, the hair stylist sprinkled glitter in my granddaughter’s hair and took a picture of her “first hair cut.” No fuss. No crying.

My, how things have changed! 

Throwback Thursday: A Girl with a Stuffed Animal

The latest from my "old and known" files:

Little girl “My puppy's taking me for a walk.”

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