Anniversary Date

Today is the anniversary of Mom's death.  This is the posterity of the two of them.  What a great heritage. 

Good Bye High

It was time to clean out the final treasures from Mom's garage before potential buyers arrived today to see the house.  We listed it for sale and arrived at 8:30 am to do the job.  Trucks, trailers and the garbage cans were backed up to haul away the final items.  Although I hated to part with this forty year old, yellow high chair, it was loaded into the trailer along with many other things headed to Deseret Industries.  

This faithful, sturdy stool held many a baby as they learned to eat with a spoon.  Julie, now forty-five, mastered climbing on and off successfully unaided as a child.  Nile and Jim patiently sat to have their hair cut from this perch.  Mom with dripping wet hair sat on it, while I patiently rolled it up in her pink curlers week in and out.  Many canning seasons came and went with family fighting over who got to sit on the  high chair.    We have now sent it off for a new family to enjoy and make their own memories.  Good bye, old guy. 

Sunday, January 15th marked twelve years since Nile passed away.  It was just after his fortieth birthday.  Nick was twelve and Melody was six.  They are now both enrolling at the community college and things are looking good for them.  Here is a photo of Nick with Mom a few years ago at Christmas.  They look good.  We hope both Mom and Nile are happy in heaven. 

A Quiet Christmas

Faithfully like clock work, Mom would decorate the graves for holidays. She had boxes of Christmas florals and wreaths. I made sure to do the same this year so all those years of collecting would be put to good use. Her side has the flowers and Dad's the Santa that he played so masterfully for many years.

Here's to you, Mom, a decorated for the season grave. We didn't forget.

A Freezer Full of Ice Cream

The downsizing of many food stuffs has been irritating. One is ice cream which until recently was sold in half-gallon containers. Now most are only 1.5 quart. I refuse to buy them. This caused a dilema on Thanksgiving to serve pie without ice cream. Therefore, I made a gallon batch of delicious vanilla from our trusty wooden electric ice cream maker.

This reminded me of my youth on many a summer Sunday when each of my siblings and I took a turn with our hand cranked model with high expectations of the delicious reward we got when it was frozen. Mom would be in the kitchen cooking a roast, mashing potatoes, making gravy. The table was set with her special pink rose bud china. Best manners were always used as we carefully consumed the meal and awaited our portion of ice cream.

The old freezer was put away in her shed a forgotten buddy of yesteryear.

Something Old, Something New

While going through Mom's possessions we have discovered so many old and beloved items. Her cedar chest which was always at the foot of her bed like a faithful pet. Growing up we looked at some of the things in it but never really appreciated them. Occassionally she would open it to take something out and show us. It was 'old stuff' and meant little to us.

Now it is all so precious. We discovered her wedding veil, now sixty plus years old. Embroidered pillowcases, hand crocheted doilies, floral table cloths. Many of the items were her wedding gifts. My sister, Sandy's baby sweater that matches the outfit she is wearing in a photo at six months old is here.

How sad I am that Mom cannot share these stories with us now. Why didn't we sit down with her and listen about the beautiful treasures she held dear? Like a Ghost Town they wait for her return.

Remember the Old Days

Stepping into this farm house kitchen of the Fielding Garr Ranch on Antelope Island, took me 'back to my youth'. I was a kid again with my bed sandwiched between the refrigerator and wood burning cook stove in the kitchen. Stainless steel legs, marbled gray table top, these mealtime wonders lasted for decades. It wasn't that long ago baby boomers crawled under, beside and on top of these sturdy structures.

Washer ringer tubs in the old kitchen are easily called to mind. On wash day the steady hum of the machine as the clothes swished back and forth, back and forth, are not forgotten by this 1950's baby. When ready each piece had to be pushed through the two rolling pin size, revolving rollers to ring out all the excess water. Next the tubs of laundry were hauled outside to be hung on the metal wire clothes line with wooden pins.

After whipping in the breeze, frozen into cardboard shapes or just drying in the sun, the pieces where let loose of their anchors taken back inside and dumped on the couch to be folded and put away. Oh, those were the days never to be forgotten.