Oh, my aching (fill in a body part and it’ll probably be right)…day of hard labor ferrying father, walker, and medical appliances to Wal-Mart, then cleaning out a hall closet with shelves that haven’t been touched for years. Today’s treasures: old vaudeville showbill, a brand new rag throw rug, a black wool beret, and quite possibly every greeting card my mother ever received for the past 30 years. Oh, and a large milk glass creamer full of fresh lilacs (always her favorite this time of year).
Anyway, without a fresh Mason jar of homebrew in the fridge, I swiped a tumbler of this from my husband. This is a fair, unsweet, unsullied, non-citric iced tea if you need some ready-made in a pinch. Enjoying it along with the backyard theatrics—Tazo is mole hunting.
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Gold Peak is a good no fuss choice. Our local Mexican restaurant brews it fresh. Not too shabby. Your day sounds a lot like my wife’s. Except it was me and the garage.
Nice bit of memories. I never really new my grandmother very well, she was quite sickly through most of my conscious memories of her and very frustrated and even my mom said she was a difficult person to get to really know, but I have her old autograph albums, letters, some pictures of her laughing with friends…
Her greatest legacy was her quilts and sewing tackle; she made lap robes (small quilts) for nursing homes; baby quilts for practically every baby in Barton County; dresses by the case for mission boxes to Honduras. We have a shed full of fabric we’d like to bequeath to someone who would do similar good with it and haven’t found a donee yet.
Black beret! Milk glass creamer! Lilacs! Oh, what a wonderful day! (Hard, I know, but such finds! All of it. The playbill…wow.)
Apologies for not recognizing the emotions attached to the closet. I guess I am not wired that way. My mom is not a keeper of stuff. The joke growing up was if anything was left on the table for 5 minutes, mom would throw it away.
No apologies needed—we vacillate between “how sweet she kept it!” and “Good grief, why did she keep THAT?”
Gold Peak is a good no fuss choice. Our local Mexican restaurant brews it fresh. Not too shabby. Your day sounds a lot like my wife’s. Except it was me and the garage.
Nice bit of memories. I never really new my grandmother very well, she was quite sickly through most of my conscious memories of her and very frustrated and even my mom said she was a difficult person to get to really know, but I have her old autograph albums, letters, some pictures of her laughing with friends…
Her greatest legacy was her quilts and sewing tackle; she made lap robes (small quilts) for nursing homes; baby quilts for practically every baby in Barton County; dresses by the case for mission boxes to Honduras. We have a shed full of fabric we’d like to bequeath to someone who would do similar good with it and haven’t found a donee yet.
Black beret! Milk glass creamer! Lilacs! Oh, what a wonderful day! (Hard, I know, but such finds! All of it. The playbill…wow.)
Apologies for not recognizing the emotions attached to the closet. I guess I am not wired that way. My mom is not a keeper of stuff. The joke growing up was if anything was left on the table for 5 minutes, mom would throw it away.
No apologies needed—we vacillate between “how sweet she kept it!” and “Good grief, why did she keep THAT?”