A wonderful surprise

This morning, Hubby and two grand-boys went off to an auction, leaving me home to  enjoy a day of laundry, cleaning and such with no interruptions.

They pulled in about 4:30, after I had all the animals taken care of for the day.

Hubby walks in, asks for a glass of tea, hands me the auction stubs and says, “I spent about a hundred dollars.”

I start looking through the ticket stubs, let out a yelp, grabbed my camera and ran to the truck!

There it was, a beauty and a treasure!

All the attachments, extra bobbins and needles. the key to the top drawer, an extra belt, spools of thread marked 18 cents and some cardboard quilt templates were found inside the drawers.

The boys have it in the sewing room, I have plans for it!

 

 

 

Years ago, I learned to sew on one of these, and I have a gang of kids, grand and great that should learn to use one too.

Maybe, down the road, someone else will be pleased to own this treasure!

 

Once upon a time

A couple of weeks ago, one of the smaller granddaughters and larger great grand daughters spent a long evening with me.

We ended up snuggling in my bed, while I told stories. Fairy tales I grew up on and some that my own grand and great grand parents had shared. Tales of their child and young adulthood.

Last night, six year old great grand came over with her parents after dinner. The first thing she wanted was “Let’s go to your bed and please tell me stories!”

Needless to say, that made my day!

Legacy

It might be a good idea to read this past post before you begin the one  for today.

https://oldentimes.wordpress.com/2010/11/19/adventures-with-betty-crocker/

This sort of sets the stage.

Over the years, many young cooks have passed through the kitchen on Sunrise ridge and other places we have called ‘home’ in our journey through life.

Betty Crocker’s red cookbooks for making things and a set of Good measuring cups have been staples of the experience.

This past week, a photo on Facebook of the big red ‘pic cover cookbook was making the rounds. Of course I shared it and many comments came, a good number from those who shared in the making of thing from that book.

My old copy is held together with duct tape, notes in the margins, and many pages smeared with drips. I have a child who wants it and her daughter is now beginning to cook, sometimes here in Sunrise kitchen. Another generation to share with.

While at an auction yesterday, another copy of the book was for sale. The cover was a little worn, the pages inside much like mine.

Yes, I  felt the need to purchase it. Another daughter and granddaughter live in California and they too should have this book.

Now, I need to find a couple more copies for some of the others who ‘graduated’ with the basic cooking certificate here.

I see they are available on Amazon and other outlets, some for quite a price. The ones I need though are well loved, used, smeared (especially on the page with the fudge recipe) and have notes written in them. They may not bee my notes, but I will happily transcribe from mine.

Not much of a ‘legacy’ you might think, but you are wrong. These books are filled with memories and love!

 

 

Would you believe?

Recently a college student contacted me. She needed a ‘Senior Citizen’ for an interview in one of her classes and I agreed.

I was telling the daughters about this. One of them said something about how did the girl define “senior Citizen”. That gave me a moment of thought. In our little community, I counted 5 people who are ‘older’ than I am, there are 7 or 8 in my age group, everyone else is a good bit younger.

She brought out a copy of the interview protocol, I read it over and still agreed. THe protocol asks for a biography and some of the major world/national events you remember. Due to distances and time constraints, I offered to start answering the questions and type up my responses before we do the actual interview later this week.

I really expected I would have maybe four pages. Well, I was wrong! I have ELEVEN pages typed up, and am not through yet.

When I think of  all the events that have happened, all the new technologies that have come into play? Hard to believe all this has occurred in my lifetime.

Oh, my I was just reminded of something else! Back to the typing!

The empty space

It has been a long while since I wrote a Friday Fictioneers challenge. This week’s photo, courtesy of The Reclining Gentleman, woke me up.

In case you are not aware, A photo prompt is posted each week and the challenge is to tell a story in 100 words or less.  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/02/10/12-february-2016/

You were only seven when your classmates sent the pot of blooming daffodils.

Bright, bobbing blooms to grace that hospital room. Mrs. Goodson told me how your friends at school brought in quarters so she could buy them.

We planted them by the maple tree in the yard. Do you remember?

Over the years those flowers flourished, enchanting every spring.

Later on, your youngest son helped you dig some up to plant at your home far away.

Then you went away, forever. They did not bloom again.

I wonder, do they bloom for you in heaven?

Other interesting 100 word +/- tales can be found  http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=605998http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=605998

As time goes by

there are some things you really regret.

One of those things was the Christmas I was 17. Back then, as most teens, there was an aura of complacency, and not a little feeling of superiority in my being.

An elderly aunt had hand crocheted a large doll for me, looking back and now aware of what time and effort went into that doll, I know it should have meant a lot.

However, as a soon to be adult Senior in High School, I was sorely disappointed in the gift. Not because it was hand made but because it seemed to me she was not seeing me for the grownup that I had become.

The doll was tucked away, out of sight in my parents attic for several years.

I don’t know what ever became of it, but this morning while working on some Christmas craft projects, I remembered the doll and more specifically, how I felt.

I’m really sorry I was not more appreciative at the time.

Memories

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of attending the Destroyer Escort Sailors reunion with a number of family members.

My father served on the USS Coolbaugh DE 217 from its commissioning until the end of World War II.

He was honored as we toured the USS Yorktown.

His emotions were at the forefront when we walked up and this sign was prominently posted on deck.

It was one of the few instances I ever saw him cry.

time travel

Yesterday, my sister and I went down some old dirt roads together.

One stop took me back some 50+ years, as we found and photographed a house much like my in-laws when Hubby and I first wed. That house had no electricity, no water running from a tap. It held respect, knowledge and caring people, for which I am forever grateful.

All this picture needs is me and Granny,sitting on the porch, enjoying the summer afternoon. Feeling the breeze, listening to cicadas and birds sing, a glass of cold well water in hand. Knowing a ‘canning’ of green beans, one of tomatoes, and a batch of pickles are sealing in the kitchen. The wood stove is cooling down, dishes done up, floor is swept…nothing to do for an hour or two, until supper. At peace with the world.