Monday, January 5, 2009

Oh...the stories...



Behind each picket fence there lies a trail into the history of days gone by...of stories on porch swings, from sweethearts and Grammas'...many a tale was told, too soon to be forgotten, unless...


Unless you are one of those romantic urban archaeologists that just has a passion for old. That yearning for the simpler times when you just couldn't wait to get to Granny's house for the treats and the comfort there...nothing like a Granny's lap. I love the statement 'what happens at Grandmas, stays at Grandmas'...how true. And once you become a Granny, then you know the true value to the meaning of those words.


We each have those little memories tucked away that make that tingling remembrance sparkle in our minds. My Granny had an old cast iron radiator, just my height, that would warm my fanny and dry my mittens...and the bread dough that would rise from it's surface...mmmmm...those wonderful smells...only at Granny's house would they be beyond compare.


Take a moment to reflect on what made you cherish each memory that made you smile from Grandmother's house...that warm fuzzy feeling that will stay with you all your days.

13 comments:

High Desert Diva said...

I've been thinking of my grandmother...she made orange cardamon bread...oh man! did that ever smell good.


Love that fireplace surround...

larkspur said...

Oh...the stories. Boy, you nailed it! That is exactly why I have such a hard time turning my back on that old notebook, the shaky step stool, or the chipped McCoy pot with its bark-colored glaze. All I can think about is the history...the stories...the hands that passed these things on thru the years.

vikki said...

the stories if only the items could talk. if fortunate enuf to have something of the relatives it soo does speak of the warm comfy memories. the love of the ol'timey so we can make our own memories ~ re♥loving the chippy, worn, not new look. thanx for the smiles m'dear friend. looks like manleys' is on the visit list soon... as is sistas'! hugs & blessings, vikki ♥

Lisa B. said...

Nice post. This probably isn't very warm and fuzzy...it's not baking bread...but...

When I was at my Grandma's house that just passed...we played Yahtzee. When she moved into the nursing home we cleaned out her house. I found her old Yahtzee game and in the box were our score pads from decades ago. All the used ones were in there with the names of me and my brothers written in our own childish handwriting. I kept it. I'll never throw the old scores away either. I took it to the nursing home and we played again together. You can't buy that at Walmart.

Steph said...

I grew up living closest to my paternal grandmother, who had sung opera in Chicago before marrying, and never allowed us to call her anything but Grandmother; such a diva! Her house was always full of parents, aunts, and uncles, who played games of Spades amid clouds of cigarette smoke and surrounded by beer cans and Depression glass wine glasses (I suspect they were really parfait glasses). The entire family being professional musicians, there was always music, singing, and dancing.

My mother's step-mother was more what you describe. She didn't bake, but she was an artist, surrounded by paints and brushes. She also made little porcelain ring boxes on top of which she affixed porcelain, hand-painted roses (I have one of these, passed down to me by my mother). And sock monkeys. She made sock monkeys, too!

My memories of grandmothers aren't normal by most standards, but they sure are entertaining to remember. Thanks!

trash talk said...

I have things that belonged to my grandmother when I need to feel her touch, but when I really feel closest to her is when I smell a perm. She'd give us perms at the shop where she worked. The smell was well you know, the smell. She'd give me a baby coke to keep my nose over and a towel to cover my head with. As much as I hated it then, I love the smell now because of Marie. Tn'T

willow said...

I love the memories vintage items conjure up! It's fun to get a mini antique shopping fix when I visit you. I'll take that lovely window frame hanging against the door!

Anonymous said...

As Steph said, I had a Gram and a "Grandmother". IT had to be Grandmother. So many memories came flooding thru as I read your recent post and then read the comments left for you. Just one memory.....I have my rhasberry colored cerial bowl that Grandmother served hot cream of wheat whenever I spent the night. My brother had a green one. I don't know what happened to his but I still have mine and I still use it, for cream of wheat only. lol Thank you for sharing your blog and what a sweet peaceful place to visit.
chris
http://madcreekdesigns.blogspot.com/

summersundays-jw said...

I didn't get to know any of my g'parents so I think that's why being a g'parent is so important to me. My dining room table was made by my great-g'father & I have 2 quilts made by my great-g'mother. Just wish that they had known that these would be so loved by a g'granddaughter & passed down to great-great-great g'children who already love them. Have a good week. Jan

Anonymous said...

I can remember standing next to my Grandmother in her little cottage kitchen. I watched her make me the perfect cup of coffee. My VERY first cup of coffee. I must have been 10 at the time...half coffee, half milk and 2 teaspoon of sugar. Needless to say, I was hooked after that. At least I didn't pick up her habit of smoking, but I can remember those red & white packs of L&M's it was yesterday.

Greyscale Territory said...

I didn't know my grandparents at all! They were long gone before my time. But I did look at sepia photos of them and wonder what they were like. My mother's mother fascinated me especially. Her hair was coiled up on her head softly in the most artistic hairstyle and she wore a high collared ruffled dress.

M.Kate said...

The biggest regret I had was not salvaging many of my grandmother's treasures. She had a whole house of it and no one was ever interested in anything back then years ago. Such a pity. The only ones I managed to keep was her wedding photos in black/white and a cotton parasol she gave me from Japan.

Anita said...

These are great pictures- I love the arch window. Is this Manley's too? They are so talented!

Anita