It will come as a surprise to no one that I've been cleaning out our house. As per the usual. Where does all of this stuff come from?!
The good news is that I want to only have interesting things (as opposed to boring old Target crap) so when I arrived home with a stack of beautiful hand-sewn linens from my grandmother I put the old Target set I never use (because I've never liked it much) straight into my Goodwill pile.
The kids and I spent the afternoon yesterday cleaning out Carolena's room (again). That kid. Geeze, Louise. Suffice to say her bookshelf is now in her closet (she's been begging me to move it there) so that she can snuggle up next to it in a pile of big stuffed animals. She calls it her reading nook. I think if it lasts she'll need a light in there to actually read by, but I'm hoping to make her a much better reading nook in the future. We also made all of the stuffed animals go on the other side of the closet. The plan she and I came up with is that the two messiest things (books and stuffed animals) can just be shoved in there and the doors closed. Here's hoping.
We also went through her costumes and *gasp* she picked out a bunch for her younger cousin. What?! So, watch out Hols - we've got some fun coming your way. Glitz and tulle. It's right up your alley. Kelly should go through it first and tuck some fancy leotards away for Christmas gifts.
On the Nils' homefront he and I have been talking about diapers and underwear and all that jazz. It dawned on me that when Nils is out of diapers I'll be... done done done! Done with diapers. So, yeah. He doesn't seem ready yet but I remembered that there are things he'll need to work on now like pulling up and down his own pants. All this is to say, now I keep finding a naked little guy in the house who says to me, "Me need new diaper." Hm. A step in the right direction nonetheless?
Yesterday I kept thinking about how strange it is that my grandmother and her family lived during the Great Depression and had next to nothing. Her mother filled a rocking chair with worn out clothes. Here I am with a constant box going of things to get rid of because "too much stuff!" cluttering our house is the bane of my existence.
Laura Ingalls had a corn husk that she played with as a baby doll. We purge toys before birthdays and Christmas knowing that more are going to come into our home. I can't get over the weirdness (and wrongness?) of that.
Some best friends are coming to visit this morning. We see them about twice a year so the occasion called for a loaf of brioche. I need to pull the dough from the fridge and let it rest so I can bake it. What's better than brioche?! Well, caramel rolls made from brioche but as I didn't go to boot camp this morning I think its probably best I not add more butter to brioche.
Our next door neighbors moved yesterday and in the next few weeks we're watching for "a family of three with a kid around Nils' age" to move in. We're pretty anxious and excited to see what they're like. Carolena (on her own accord) told me she thinks when they move in we should bring them "something like a cake or muffins or something like that." I agree.
Futureman, call me every five minutes. You know who you are.
Friday, July 29, 2016
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Time Capsule
I'm actually in town this morning so I figured I would turn on a computer.
Where have I been? Unplugged, for one thing.
It's really one of the many wonderful perks of having a "dumb phone" that I am not connected all of the time. Yes, that is a perk. If you don't think it is you need to put your phone down.
The kids and I have been foot loose and fancy free this summer. We went back to the beach and then straight to my parents' house. I could bore you with a summary blog post, but why? It was fun. The beach was perfect. Both kids got to go in the kayak. We did a lot of swimming in the gulf. And I gained 8 pounds due to trading work outs for eating ice cream. Worth it. I'll get back in the grind when school starts.
My parents are working to get their house on the market so we spent time in Beaumont trying to help sort through more than thirty years of accumulated things. I'll be honest, it's mainly books. They should jump into the Dewey Decimal System and start a beach library when they move. They could run it out of their house and probably make a fortune on late fees. Or charge membership. They really have that many books.
We went through old photographs, and attic boxes (oh the never ending Coke collection!), and Gran's linens (yes, please!), and Rush family jewelry. Actually we didn't go through the jewelry I just took it home to look through with Kelly. I think when I see her next I should be wearing every single piece, including all five of Pop's police badges.
Wait, didn't I just promise I wasn't going to summarize? Ah!
All of that is to get to this: I brought home Carolena's old rocking chair. No, not Carolena number three. Carolena number ONE. It's old. And fabulous. And the best little rocking chair that ever was.
How old is that wonderful thing? Like 100?
When I picked it up to bring it downstairs the seat cushion fell off and revealed a torn bottom. Upon closer inspection my mother and I realized it was filled with straw and fabric. *Note to self for reconstruction purposes: straw and fabric are incredibly comfortable rocking chair fillers*
"What if there's money tucked away in there?" my Treasure House mother said.
I gave her a skeptical look.
She shot me a mother look that I know very well from both her face and now my own and replied, "That's what people did. I'm serious. When you take this apart be careful and look for hidden money or family jewels."
"Mom, I don't think we're that kind of family" I replied.
A few hours later I was home and all of my new/old belongings were lovingly put away and on display. I decided to tackle the chair bottom and see what mystery was really inside.
Jewels? Money? Valuable family heirlooms?
No, a time warp to the Great Depression. Or perhaps the start of WWII?
Clearly a woman leading a life so different from my own (and yet so similar?) needed to add stuffing to the caving seat of the rocking chair and looked to her own home. I pulled out about eight pairs of antique undergarments, a small blouse jacket, and an entire dress. All of these things were torn. The tears didn't look like the tears of wear (expect for a few places on the dress), but looked to me like tears from being washed during a time with no "gentle cycle" to do all of the work.
It was astonishing. At first I started to laugh. Who stuffs a chair with old underwear?!
And then I realized who does that: people who had nothing else to stuff in there.
And I was humbled. And stood in the middle of our modern day opulence holding the torn dress turned chair stuffing of my namesake great-grandmother.
Generations of babies have now been rocked on that chair. I think it is safe to assume that my dad snuggled up on a lap in that rocking chair a time or two. I'm sure I did. I am positive that my own children have snuggled and rocked on top of the original Carolena's old clothes.
I don't know what I'll use to reconstruct the seat of the rocking chair. Whatever modern convenience I use I'm sure it be it will somehow be less comfortable than Carolena's old clothes. I plan to wash a piece of it and put it back in. I like the thought of generations to come continuing to soothe their babies on the tangible memories of our family.
Where have I been? Unplugged, for one thing.
It's really one of the many wonderful perks of having a "dumb phone" that I am not connected all of the time. Yes, that is a perk. If you don't think it is you need to put your phone down.
The kids and I have been foot loose and fancy free this summer. We went back to the beach and then straight to my parents' house. I could bore you with a summary blog post, but why? It was fun. The beach was perfect. Both kids got to go in the kayak. We did a lot of swimming in the gulf. And I gained 8 pounds due to trading work outs for eating ice cream. Worth it. I'll get back in the grind when school starts.
My parents are working to get their house on the market so we spent time in Beaumont trying to help sort through more than thirty years of accumulated things. I'll be honest, it's mainly books. They should jump into the Dewey Decimal System and start a beach library when they move. They could run it out of their house and probably make a fortune on late fees. Or charge membership. They really have that many books.
We went through old photographs, and attic boxes (oh the never ending Coke collection!), and Gran's linens (yes, please!), and Rush family jewelry. Actually we didn't go through the jewelry I just took it home to look through with Kelly. I think when I see her next I should be wearing every single piece, including all five of Pop's police badges.
Wait, didn't I just promise I wasn't going to summarize? Ah!
All of that is to get to this: I brought home Carolena's old rocking chair. No, not Carolena number three. Carolena number ONE. It's old. And fabulous. And the best little rocking chair that ever was.
How old is that wonderful thing? Like 100?
When I picked it up to bring it downstairs the seat cushion fell off and revealed a torn bottom. Upon closer inspection my mother and I realized it was filled with straw and fabric. *Note to self for reconstruction purposes: straw and fabric are incredibly comfortable rocking chair fillers*
"What if there's money tucked away in there?" my Treasure House mother said.
I gave her a skeptical look.
She shot me a mother look that I know very well from both her face and now my own and replied, "That's what people did. I'm serious. When you take this apart be careful and look for hidden money or family jewels."
"Mom, I don't think we're that kind of family" I replied.
A few hours later I was home and all of my new/old belongings were lovingly put away and on display. I decided to tackle the chair bottom and see what mystery was really inside.
Jewels? Money? Valuable family heirlooms?
No, a time warp to the Great Depression. Or perhaps the start of WWII?
Clearly a woman leading a life so different from my own (and yet so similar?) needed to add stuffing to the caving seat of the rocking chair and looked to her own home. I pulled out about eight pairs of antique undergarments, a small blouse jacket, and an entire dress. All of these things were torn. The tears didn't look like the tears of wear (expect for a few places on the dress), but looked to me like tears from being washed during a time with no "gentle cycle" to do all of the work.
It was astonishing. At first I started to laugh. Who stuffs a chair with old underwear?!
And then I realized who does that: people who had nothing else to stuff in there.
And I was humbled. And stood in the middle of our modern day opulence holding the torn dress turned chair stuffing of my namesake great-grandmother.
Generations of babies have now been rocked on that chair. I think it is safe to assume that my dad snuggled up on a lap in that rocking chair a time or two. I'm sure I did. I am positive that my own children have snuggled and rocked on top of the original Carolena's old clothes.
I don't know what I'll use to reconstruct the seat of the rocking chair. Whatever modern convenience I use I'm sure it be it will somehow be less comfortable than Carolena's old clothes. I plan to wash a piece of it and put it back in. I like the thought of generations to come continuing to soothe their babies on the tangible memories of our family.
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Moi?
Oh, what? You think I'm supposed to be blogging?
I was under the impression I was supposed to be outside.
That's where I've been.
Outside.
All of the time.
So, if you need me... that's where I'll be... out.
My cell phone will be inside - let's face it, probably on silent, God only knows where. I'll be sweaty (hello humidity!) and happy and having fun with my munchkins or completely ignoring them while I search for fossilized sharks' teeth on the beach. I found 47 on our last trip. Yes, 47.
Pardon me, I have to go. The beach beckons.
I was under the impression I was supposed to be outside.
That's where I've been.
Outside.
All of the time.
So, if you need me... that's where I'll be... out.
My cell phone will be inside - let's face it, probably on silent, God only knows where. I'll be sweaty (hello humidity!) and happy and having fun with my munchkins or completely ignoring them while I search for fossilized sharks' teeth on the beach. I found 47 on our last trip. Yes, 47.
Pardon me, I have to go. The beach beckons.
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