Happy because the shallow underbed storage box held a doll quilt made by my Great-grandma Barbara Stephan, a kitchen embroidery of herbs and animals that Mom made, my first needlepoint sampler, a crewel embroidery of a squirrel in a tree, and the set of 12 bear quilt blocks that Grandma Angermeier set me to embroidering when I was about 8 years old. I do not know why they never got turned into a baby quilt or doll quilt but there they are all sewn with no place to go. Maybe I'll get some quilt fabric, finally cut them apart, and piece together a quilt top. One of these days.
Sad because in the same box were the quilts that Durwood's mom made for DS and DD. The orange one is crib-size (folded in half in the photo) with coloring book pictures she traced onto the fabric then sewed around them in running stitch with embroidery floss, stuffing a little fiberfill into the design before finishing each one. The yellow one she made 2 1/2 years later when her forgetfulness had turned into full-blown Alzheimer's disease. She has a few traced shapes on there and they are stuffed but... well, it makes me weep to see the undeniable change in her. I wish I could say that she died within a year or so after she made this but DD was close to 6 years old when she passed. That was a very long time to watch her sink into dementia. I don't wish that on my worst enemy.
On to happier thoughts. I had another assistant today and we made our favorite cornbread, carrot, cheddar waffles for lunch. We played school, tossed things down the laundry chute and then retrieved them only to toss them down again, drew pictures and colored, made microwave popcorn, and she watched me take in the waistband of her pants. She so tall and slender that pants that are long enough slide right off within a few steps, which is very awkward at school. I'm thinking she needs a wardrobe of belts. We hoped to snowshoe but it was too darned cold plus we found too many amusements indoors. Next time.
3 March--Tropical Obsession.
The sun was high when Nola
finally awoke and squinted her way out to the patio. Maria was in the kitchen
clattering pots around but she took a moment to carry a mug of fresh-made
coffee out and set it silently on a palm fiber mat on the glass-topped table.
Her fingers rested ever so fleetingly on Nola's shoulder as she turned to go
back to her work. Tears sprang to Nola's eyes at the simple gesture. The news
of Jack's death must be all over the island, she thought. In the center of the
table sat a clear glass bowl; three flowers floated on the surface, their
yellow centers looking like a pinwheel of yolk in a fried egg. The petals were
so waxy she had to touch them to see if they were real. She had the feeling
that nothing would seem real for a time until she was allowed to leave the
island and begin building a new life on the shreds of the old one that had died
with Jack.
Tomorrow is the 1965 St. Agnes grad lunch. I'm looking forward to it because last month's lunch was cancelled due to icy roads. I'm hungry for a cheeseburger. Also tomorrow is my chiro appointment which I am also looking forward to because my activities of the last couple of weeks have awakened the dragon that lives in my left, ex-broken ankle and Dr. Paula will make it better. She will also temporarily relieve the constant kink that lives between my shoulder blades. Worth every penny.
--Barbara
2 comments:
I thought I was in third grade when Grandma Malcolm died. Am I remembering wrong? Did someone else die when I was about 9?
What an adorable trove you found beneath your bed. No wonder you got teary remembering that time in your life when the kids were small. Once upon a time..... But on the bright side, that soup looks delicious. Can't believe you had those "extras" to make it even better. Nice you got some time with your other assistant for some indoor fun.
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