“In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It Goes On.”
Robert Frost
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts

Friday, July 7, 2017

Lazy Days of Summer

Summer Days are made for Flea Markets and Tag Sales! Early summer is a great time to get out and enjoy the warm weather and pick up a few treasures whilst getting a bit of exercise too! Here are a few gems I've picked up over the last month.



Wouldn't you feel like a Queen sipping out of this gorgeous Yellow Tea Cup and Saucer? It's a 1950's set by Royal Sealy China. Japanese tea cup set in iridescent luster-ware finish. The tea cup is footed with a yellow and white iridescent finish trimmed in gold. Both the tea cup and the saucer are faceted. The tea cup has 3 geometric gold feet. Wonderful Art Deco style!





Are you old enough to remember these? Found this lovely vintage Set of 4 Metal Snack/Lap Trays. They are Green & Yellow with lithographed roses and leaves. Beautiful bright colors with red and cream colored roses. They're chippy and shabby and perfect for your French cottage, farmhouse, or cabin decor.

They remind me of those days long ago when we kids could grab a sandwich and chips and park ourselves on the floor in front of the TV on Sunday night and watch Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color.

I just found this vintage 1962 park map of Disneyland in a box of books that I picked up at an estate sale last year.  Someone from California snapped it up from my shop within a week!




Of course when I think about my time as a kid, I always think of my Mom.  I found this black and white photo of her taken when she was about 6 years old. I played around with the Pixlr photo editor to get the results below. She had the most beautiful captivating eyes.


Hope you all had a wonderful 4th of July and you're ready
 to take on those Lazy Days of Summer!

See you soon!
Diane

 

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Remembering My Mom

My Mom has been gone for almost twenty years. Every now and then I dream about her. It almost always takes place in my childhood home and is always a little fuzzy and not spectacular at all. Kind of like the real thing. Time spent at home with my Mom. Just doing the simple everyday things in life. It usually feels like I am around ten or twelve and my Mom would have been about 40ish. She is almost always in the kitchen and I am usually in the adjoining room at the piano; where I spent most of my childhood (it just seems that way). The dreams are comforting to me, like a gentle hug.

My Mom's illness took her away just at the time in our lives when we both were appreciating each other the most. The miles had separated us for a few years and we were finally starting to  get to know each other as adult women and not as mother and daughter.  Sadly she slipped away far too soon. I often wonder what she would have been like at 70, 80 or even at 90 -- which was as long as her own mother had lived. Would her beautiful dark hair have turned white? She hardly had a gray hair when she left me. Unanswered questions that I shouldn't dare ask, but I do.

I think I was quite lucky to have had such wonderful, strong women in my life. My grandmothers were both true 'Pioneer Women' or maybe 'Prairie Women' is more accurate. They were the typical farmers wife in the 1930's in the prairie states of the Midwest.  They did all the things in the poems below -- baked, cooked, cleaned, quilted, gardened and mostly without the modern conveniences of today. I want to share a few family photos and some poetry I came across that reminds me of my own Mother and Grandmothers.


art by Edith Holden




Grandmother's Recipes

Her cookies are the best ones made;
No one can match her lemonade;
She cures the best of country ham
And makes delicious berry jam.

A better pie no one can make,
Or even touch her chocolate cake.
Her pickles are so crisp and nice;
Her peaches are just right with spice.

And when I ask her recipe,
She shakes her head and smiles at me,
"Oh, I just guess at it, my dear."
And now it seems to me quite clear,

One things that's used, all else above --
Her main ingredient is love.

Esther L. Dauber



         Mom at Graduation                   Me & Mom                Before marriage she worked as a secretary




 
Old Quilt

Like swift-winged swallows, her small hands flew,
Dipping and darting the bright thread through,
Over and under the steel flashed true--
Silent staccato and constant rhyme.

And, oh, I wonder -- did she divine
That the threads would hold, and the quaint design
Should someday rest on a bed of mine,
Bridging the mystical gulf of time?

Betty Cornwell



Art by Edith Holden



Memory Garden

Lengthening shadows bring memories
Of days that have passed us by;
And I think of time and I think of life,
And I sometimes wonder why

That time can't be stayed and enjoyed without loss
As the sun and earth and sky.
and the more I think, the more I am sure
That nothing can ever be lost,

That time is the garden of memory
And life is but part of the cost.
So we trade our lives for those memories
And we live each golden day,

And the flowers we grow in our garden
May have petals bright and gay,
Or they may be dark and depressing things
If we live our lives that way.

So each one may choose and invest his time,
For time is a part of the cost;
And each one must live with his memories
For nothing can ever be lost. 

Robert M. Clarke










Here is something dear to my heart. I found this poem in my Mom's things a year or so after her death when I was sorting through a box. Here it is pasted in my journal. 
It's a poem by Longfellow, written in her own hand.


 Thank you Mom for this wonderful gift!