Memories

I am tired this morning. And I hurt - all over - suspicion by Doctor Friend is gout. I thought you only had that in your feet, but according to him, you can get it in any joint and in my case every joint in your body. I am taking anti-inflamatory drugs for it and struggling through every motion. This started about a week ago when my hands were hurting - I thought it was the quilting I was working so hard on. Then this aggravating soreness has taken over. I guess there is some validity to the "turning 40 and falling apart" saying.

Enough of that - I literally snapped these pictures this morning on my way out. Photography is not one of the venues I am interested in. Taking a picture is not a form of art for me,but a way of recording my life in small snippets of visual reminders.

The first picture is of one of my favorite Christmas gifts. When my Grandmother died, my sister took all of the jewelry from her dresser. I don't remember her wearing a lot of it, but I do remember playing "dress up" at that dresser and putting various outfits together with the appropriate jewelry. We would stay with her frequently and I loved being there. At Christmas that year, Tracey presented every adult female in the family with a framed assemblage of the jewelry pieces. Many of these are just inexpensive costume pieces, but they hold a treasure of priceless memories.

These memories are treasure. We played dress up there. I learned to crochet by watching her over her shoulder (that is why I crochet right handed even though I am left handed). She cooked and canned and froze and pickled and dried meats, fruit, and vegetables. Her friend, Omer, was as much a Grandfather as I ever knew. He was there too a lot of the time. We hunted eggs there. We ate Sunday lunch there. Her house was a centerpiece of my life growing up. She made potholders and other crafty things to sell and supplement her income. When she cooked, she always fixed a plate for Peggy, her next door neighbor and called her to let her know. We loved her and we loved that place. Mother and my uncle have a contract on selling her house. I am a little nostalgic about the whole thing right now. I know you can't sell the memories, but I am still a little melancholy about it.

This ornament is nestled into the front of our tree. Made by Miss Molly one Sunday when she was teaching my 3 & 4 year old Sunday School class. An incredibly simple project and one that has been requested by parents over and over again. A wooden heart cutout from the craft store. Hot glue a hanger on the back and a "gem" in the middle. Paint a thick layer of plain white glue on the remaining surface of the heart and sprinkle glitter to your hearts content. The hardest part - don't shake off the glitter yet - wait until the glue has dried completely before you do that. It leaves so much more glitter attached this way. I save shoebox lids for these kinds of kids crafts.

The girls have started decorating the tree. And I listened in on part of that activity last night. They told the stories of the ornaments. Mostly their favorite ones. I have not documented these stories and pictures but I think that might be a fun project to work on. Each of them has an ornament box of her own and these will go with them when they start housekeeping themselves. I add to them (several others do as well) every year. Some are purchased, some are made. The boxes represent the way we decorate the tree - a mixture of visual pleasure coupled with memories galore.

The sound of their voices last night as they worked together has to be one of my favorite memories of this season. I urge you you listen to those around you. Listen with your ears and listen with your heart. Do you hear what I hear??? I hear a family loving each other and loving the life we have been blessed to experience together.

Have a beautiful day.

Molly successfully completed her driver test yesterday. I am now the proud Mom of an increase in my auto insurance policy because I now have a teenage driver.