An old fashioned rocker as nice as you please,
With cretonne seat and a frill,
And a pot of petunias with fluted skirts
There on the window sill.
A pair of old spectacles twisted and bent,
Laid on an open book,
And a mother grey as an autumn night,
Tucked in a sunny nook.
An old fashioned rocker that squeaks when she rocks,
By a window that looks on the street,
Where children go by on their way to a show,
On a Saturday afternoon treat.
An apron with lace that she crocheted herself
A fichu and cameo pin,
A place for her Bible in reach of her hand
And a footstool all faded and thin.
In the old fashioned rocker she sings as she rocks,
(And looks so contented and cute)
Songs that are old as the hills but I swear
Their music is sweet as a flute,
She talks to herself (like a child at her play)
And I wonder what visions she sees,
As she whispers and smiles in her small quiet way
With an afghan spread on her knees.
Just an old fashioned mother as sweet as a rose,
And a face that is placid and kind
For there's peace in her heart like a river in June
And a blessed contentment of mind.
And I hope when my journey is nearing its end,
There's a house with a rose bordered walk,
And a window with curtains, that faces the sun,
And a rocker that squeaks when I rock.
~Edna Jaques, Old Fashioned Rocker,
Roses in December
This is my Great Grandmother Henrietta (Smith) Best. I think she was also called Hetti, but can't swear by that fact. She was my mother's grandmother. The poem about the rocking chair made me think of her this morning. I am the only one of all of us old enough to remember her. She died on Christmas Eve, 1959. I was four years old. When I look at this photograph, I see my sister's eyes. I never noticed that until this morning.
This photograph was in a bag of photos that somehow got left behind in the UK, but that my friend Tina found and then mailed over to me when I was staying at my sisters. (What a wonderful thing for her to do. I am so grateful that these were not lost. Tender mercies.)
Henrietta was a farmers wife and a mid-wife to many of the women who lived up in Inglisville (on the South Mountain) at that time. I don't know how many babies she helped to deliver, but I would love to know.
I love old photographs like this. There are not many that we have, but the ones we do have, we really cherish.
She was eighty-eight when she passed away. She had been living with my maternal grandparents from the time that her husband had passed away (in 1938) and they had sold off the farm. By 1959 she had dementia and spent most of her days in a rocking chair by the window. I really wish I knew more about her.
I wonder, am I like her in any way? What were her hopes, her dreams, her disappointments? She was widowed at the age of 67, so only a year or so older than I am now. I don't feel that old, but I remember thinking she was really old.
I managed to get quite a bit done yesterday. I don't know what happens to my days but they seem to disappear in a puff of smoke! Here are just a few things that I did.
I started off by baking a rhubarb cake.
I collected the art of Kirsten Cramer (Tollipop) for years. Every time I had a few bits extra I would buy a piece. They had hung over our beds in our house in Chester. When I left, I removed all the art from their frames and slipped them into my suitcase. I didn't want to leave them behind and they didn't weigh much out of the frames.
I used to love the Tollipop blog. She has not updated it in years now, but it was always one of my favorite places to visit.
Anyways, I got them all back into frames and hung them up. My sister will probably have adjustments to make when she comes and sees them. (Thank goodness for her straight eye! I always get everything crooked.) Yes, I still need to make my curtains. Not enough hours in the day . . .
Dad's blanket is all finished now and ready to give to him for Father's Day. It is not quite as large as he wanted it to be, but its really heavy and my wrists were starting to hurt holding it to crochet, so it is what it is. I just did a plain edging on it, not a picot edge, to save both time and yarn. The color's are a bit more masculine I think than my other blanket.
I spent quite a bit of time yesterday watching fledglings. All the baby birds are flying the coop. First thing I had some gold finches trying to feed from my hummingbird feeder. They didn't seem to know what it was. Then a bit later on there were woodpeckers on the feeder across the road. One was a parent and one a baby. I watched this larger one at the feeder and then it flew up to the roof and fed the one up there.
Fascinating to watch it was. Fascinating. A bit later on they were hanging on the bottom railings of the veranda of the house across the way. I was worried that the orange cat I have seen hanging about would come and get them, but thankfully they did fly off after a bit.
I got the most delightful little package in the post from my friend Diana. Lovely card, and a little something extra and this great cookbook. Kate Aitken was the first Canadian Celebrity chef as it were. She was a radio broadcaster, cooking school instructor, Director of Women's Activities for the Canadian National Exhibition, and Women's Editor of the Montreal Standard. I am not sure why I had never heard of her, but I am happy that I have now.
This book, first published in 1945 is filled with Canadian standards and little gems! I love it. thank you so much Diana!
"Generations of Canadian women turned to Kate as an authority in the kitchen. This reprint of Kate Aitken's Canadian Cookbook stands as a testament to the traditions of Canadian home cooking in the 20th century." ~ Elizabeth Driver, Culinary Historian"
I love cookbooks with a history.
I love this card. I am going to frame it I think. Again, thank you Diana!
I got a bunch of my other photos, etc. framed and ready to hang. I just have to decide where I want to hang them. A lot depends on that huge painting, which I am pretty sure I will be hanging on the wall over top of my sofa. I just need a special hanger put up for that as it is pretty heavy. Then I can take down the art that is actually there and decided where I want everything put finally.
I glued the tail back on my sparrow. I know you can see where it was glued. I couldn't manage to get it on so that it was totally invisible. I used super glue and I did have to hold it for a time before it actually adhered. It kept falling off. I am so grateful that my little sparrow wasn't damaged worse.
That is a Russian wren ornament to the right. I remember buying both of these around the same time as I started my glass bird collection. I wanted a sparrow to remind me that God's eye is always on the sparrow. A reminder to myself that I am worth more than a sparrow to Him.
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. Matthew 10:31
I also had several important phone calls that I had to deal with during the day, and we all know how long some of those can take. There was also a variety of other little pleasures. Chipmunks, hummingbirds, dishes to wash, laundry, showers, etc. Before I knew it my day was ending.
I think I need at least 2 or 3 more hours added to my day! How about you?
A thought to carry with you . . .
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
*Always leave people
better than you found them.
Hug the hurt, kiss the broken,
befriend the lost, love the lonely.•。★★ 。*
I wish for you a wonderful day. May it be filled with small and abundant blessings and joys. Don't forget!
═══════════ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ══════════
⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿