Intervention

warning: no pretty pictures!

He was standing knee-deep in boxes, linens, Christmas ornaments, and books. Always the books. “Mom, do you feel that you’ve allowed your home to become, hmmm, errrr, over-full?” 

Now I recognize the opening line of an intervention when I hear one no matter how tactful the messenger. I began to respond by explaining that hardly any of it was my stuff....that I haven’t been feeling that well...that I feel overwhelmed...that I’d like to open a window and pitch it all on the lawn. 

(I attempted to wash the fence last week...yikes!)

He walked into my sewing room and I rushed to say, “Not so bad, right? Probably better than your workspace in your barn to which he replied, ‘touché.’”

The standard joke in my family is that I am holding onto some great-grandmother or other’s bun. Yes, it’s not seven feet from where I now sit writing this post. It is carefully wrapped in tissue paper...I’d like to send it up the elevator... Are you following along here? I may be in trouble. 

 As another case in point, I showed my son a drawing that his great-great grandfather had done of a young starlett sometime back in the 1940s. You should have seen his face. He may have even taken a step back. I am saving it, but I don’t know why... I penciled in a message on the back some months ago. 

So today I am recommitting myself to decluttering. I was able to declutter John’s barn and property by tackling the next thing. (Let’s not discuss how much of it is here in bags waiting to be sorted.) The first thing that I worked on at John’s was the stairs...a double flight. I cleared them so I could safely walk up and down without fear of tripping.  I think that will be where I begin here — the stairs.

I know that I must pace myself or burn out completely. Why I already have my dishes done and the Mancala beads washed so something has been accomplished.

Can dishes be "done" if they are still in the drainer? Am I holding onto too many sponges?

Have you ever found yourself in a nightmare like this? Can this wee haven be saved?

No Bundle of Laughs Here

Many of you know what a challenge the month of May has become for me. It feels like one loss after the next these days and if I thought that things would settle down soon I was wrong. The incessant clouds, rain, and cold perfectly matches the mood. Sometimes it's tough to remember the good things. Very.

🌷Tulips are gracing my mother's grave this Memorial Day. They were a precious gift from Rosella whom you can find HERE. She does a beautiful job of explaining the engineering behind these special flowers and the purpose for it. Hint: Does it look like a red maple leaf? ☺
My sister and I have decided that my father will be laid to rest beside my mother. It feels right. It is something that he told my sister that he wanted. That he told me he wanted something else is a moot issue since we would prefer to have him nearer to us. 
His obituary is in the newspapers today...always a surreal reading. I now sit in his chair and have many of his things around me...more weirdness.

If anyone is interested, I have added an interview done with my father back in 2008 as the featured post. I think it is quite interesting, especially on this Memorial Day weekend.

Sunday will mark the first anniversary of my husband John's passing. It has been a rugged year for me and for his family. Missing someone never really goes away. One gets on with life, but never over the loss. I hope to write about some of the things that I have learned about John this year that I did not know before. Perhaps I can make that insightful and happy reading, but you should know that I am feeling very blue these days indeed so I appreciate your prayers. 
And on that less than cheery note, you have a blessed and meaningful Memorial Day weekend. 🌷 My apologies, but I am keeping comments closed. How does one chat with such a person as myself in times like these? Better days are coming!

Monday Monday

So where were we? In the garage I think. I have been in the garage almost daily for about a week. If the weather holds, I'll keep going. If not, I am at a good place to quit until spring.

🍁

Let me show you. This is the garage that John built so it is near and dear to my heart. 

~west wall~ 
🍁

Photos are so helpful to me because I can see that, while some progress has been made, I can circle round again and organize better. Prior to this, I didn't notice all the gardening products here and there. They can definitely be gathered to the same place.

↑There's been a whole lot of tucking going on around here. 

↑These boxes and old laundry baskets and plastic bags are full of personal papers. I have gone through so many of them, but have many more to plow through. I dare not just chuck them into the fire, though tempted, because there are treasures. Dear treasures. I found a little love note written to me on the back of a grocery list. Precious.

 Some have asked if I have found any money. Yes, I have — an unused gift card to Amazon. ☺ But the best thing that I have found is this engagement photo of John's parents. 

  Aren't they adorable? I love his mama's sweet smile and his father's steady gaze. His mom looks right at us and his dad looks at the photographer as if to say, "Let's get this show on the road."

Back to reality. Not. I have already cleared or tidied everything to the window. Yay! (Just forgot to take a photo before it was too dark.)
🍁
Progress is a wonderful feeling... Please share with me some household project that you are feeling positive about. Perhaps you even want to show me! I need all the inspiration I can get.

Sleuthing

It's an unassuming little photo album. There are no notations of any kind...no letting future family family members know who these people are nor the places they inhabit nor the animals they photograph. 

Here's the key. Him I recognize, even though he passed away while his daughter, my mother, was still a teenager. His name was John Parker. He was an engineer on the CPR, which is how he happened to live in Maine though he worked for a Canadian railroad.

 Here he is with a man I am assuming is his father. I know his father's name was Herbert. I know how he died and how difficult it was for his family. He had a number of daughters; my grandfather was his only son.

Nice asymmetrical coat, though I have no idea who is wearing it. Perhaps one of my grandfather's sisters, perhaps a friend, perhaps even his first wife who died young in the great flu pandemic of 1918. (Notice that smear of glue.) I am highly tempted to try lifting a photo or two from its dark black paper page just to see if there could be any writing on the backs. He sure glued the photos down good and tight.

There's a colt, a collie, and even a fox. My mother might have been pleased about the collie as she loved collies. I don't recall her ever saying that her father had one, though. My parents raised collies for a few years when my sister and I were children. 

This is my true great-grandmother (I think), not the mystery woman in the kitchen. I think so because this is the same man I believe to be my great-grandfather. He is holding a daughter and the way the woman standing has her arm draped casually over his shoulder makes me think that they are a pair. I am interested in the wallpaper...a clock motif, I believe. 

Oddly enough, the old Sessions clock I have is theirs. I know this because my grandfather took all the furnishings from his mother's home to the camp. The clock lived there for many years until it was given to me.

I would have been thrilled to see it in their parlor!

Here is the mystery woman again. No, she could not be the same woman seen above. Perhaps she is an aunt or a friend. I may never know. Her entire kitchen wall, cupboards, and ceiling are all done in beadboard. Everything looks in need of paint. There is some sort of lace or shelf paper on every shelf in her cupboards and on the wall above her sink. I notice a receipt (recipe) on a nail by the door and a calendar on the door. How I have tried to make it out! I should make a detailed list and thereby get to know this early 20th Century Kitchen better. 
Wonder if she could have made a meal to make Mr. Carson happy. Doubtful!

On the left, my great-grandmother whom I can see that my mother favors now that I am taking a closer look. On the right, the mystery woman in the kitchen. I do not believe that they are one and the same.

1925

Thank you for all the feedback on sleigh rides. A number have been on one. It was surprising to me and, of those who said that they had been over the Jingle Bell trail, no one had any disparaging comments to make. I may need to rethink the idea that they sound more fun than they are. 

The picture I used for the sleigh ride was an old Christmas card from my grandmother's collection as seen on my fridge above. It contains a nice note from Ross and Effie (who were among  my grandparents' dear friends). They owned a dairy farm with a view on the ridge above "the lake" in New Brunswick. (I do adore a prepositional phrase.) It was always great fun to visit them because the barn was full of kittens. Lots and lots of kittens. I don't remember the cows. Besides that, Effie kept the tidiest home and had the most darling yellow and blue kitchen. I have liked the combination ever since.

 So I had found the Christmas card and a whole lot more while tidying my bedroom on Saturday while so many of you were dealing with Jonas. Actually, I had been tidying all week and have more to show you another day. When your home receives a sudden influx of "stuff" where does it land? Everything, that I have no idea what to do with, lands in my bedroom. A week ago, I could hardly find my way to the bed. It's a little better these days. You can see the closet in need of organization there behind my grandmother's photo. (More on the photo in a bit.) 

I removed the Ruth Fielding series from the bookcase that lives in the closet and packed it away in boxes along with the vintage Nancy Drews and the newer Nancy Drews and the Bobbsey Twins set. I decided that they were taking up prime real estate. The closet will be this week's chore I believe.

As I have mentioned many times over, there are boxes and boxes of vintage photos. This particular one was taken in 1925 when Nan was Sweet Sixteen. As you can see I have tucked it into my winter display. My goal is to keep these photos accessible so that I can rotate and show them off. I also have my gallery wall for display, though it is filling up fast.

It was fun to get out my magnifying glass and take a closer look at this photo. Nan (her name was Irene) is wearing a pale pink dress, a string of pearls, a bracelet, and a pair of silver shoes. There are ribbons hanging from her shoulder...very feminine. This edit is very much to my liking with the blues beyond her. 

One of these stuffies is an old friend. His name is "Monkey." I  must have had a twisted sense of humor as a child for anyone can see that he is actually a rabbit with his long ears. He's a mess. Anyone holding onto old stuffed animals that have been loved right to death? I don't think that I could part with him, but he probably needs to be given a decent burial. Wait until I show you who else I am holding onto one day.

My one Downton Abbey thought...no spoilers (Susan Branch is providing wonderful commentary for Downton Abbey, [link goes to last week's; click on her home page for current offerings])...is this: has Tom gained a wee bit of weight? 

That's enough yabbering for a Monday. Join me Wednesday when I reveal how much progress has been made on the Catherine Holman puzzle and show you a positively geriatric stuffy. Aye! Life's exciting and, yes, I have been watching a lot of Monarch of the Glen. How could you tell?

One of These Things is Not Like the Other...

Hope that you have had a great week. For those of us who celebrate Christmas right through the twelfth day, I am sure that it has been a busy one getting the Christmas decor down and put away. I have a ways to go yet, but the tree is down and packed away in the garage. Do you write yourself helpful notes for next Christmas season? I do. I have reminded myself how many strings of lights there are and where the red button extension cords are and where the Christmas cards are and things like that. 
On Wednesday afternoon, I spent a very pleasant time reading through all the Christmas cards once again. I noted that they come in categories and took photos of some of the most notable ones. 

~2015 stack of cards~

~The Reason for the Season~

~Homemade Lovelies~

~Local Flavor~

~So Pretty~

~Families~

~From Family~

~With Sweet Messages~

As a regular reader, you know that I have been going through the vast amounts of ephemera that landed in my world when my parents' home was closed in autumn 2015. My mother saved so much! This is a precious, precious card and letter from my great-grandmother (pictured above with my grandmother). I was only six years old when she passed away so this was almost overwhelming to read. She writes and tells me how much she loves me and always will. She shares her memories of my singing and dancing for her. She offers sweet, gentle advice on how to cope with a challenging little sister. ☺  She sends money for my birthday for a dress with bows on it as that is what I told her I wanted. She closes with hugs and kisses for each member of the family telling me that she sent plenty for me to share. Yes, I did say overwhelming.

I am more determined than ever to remember to write sweet little notes in cards and letters. Sometimes we do not imagine how valuable they are to those who receive them, even years and years later.