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Keeping in Touch:  She's a Keeper...post your stories here!  |
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Libbie
Farmgirl Connection Cultivator
3579 Posts
Anne E.
Elsinore
Utah
USA
3579 Posts |
 Posted - Jun 11 2006 : 9:07:26 PM
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After reading MaryJane's post about one of the next magazines having "She's a Keeper" as a focus, I thought it might be fun to have a place to post any stories, tales, ideas around that topic. There are *SO* many things this brings to mind for me...
The house I live in was built in the early to mid 1870's by my great-great grandfather, who was the first LDS (Mormon) bishop and a "cross-the-plains" pioneer, in the small Danish town of Elsinore, Utah. There aren't many, if any, buildings that are older here. It's a 2-story log home - the original part taller than it is wide - with quite a few additions - a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a mud room. It's been in my family ever since it was built, as has the surrounding land. The land, however, has been whittled down to around 17 acres surrounding the home, which is quite enough for me right now!
When my then soon-to-be-husband and I first saw the house and land, I just had a feeling that this was the place for me. I had spent summers down in this valley, but had stayed at my grandfather's birth house in the neighboring town, not my grandmother's birth house - this one. My mother is fortunate enough to have both of these homes and to be working with me on this one. Anyway - when my husband saw the house, I think his words were, "I guess I just don't have as much vision as you do."
We spent almost six years fixing this home up. It had been a rental house for the past 35-ish years, and had put up with more abuse than a building should have to - nutty renters, animals (like FARM animals) living in it, a daycare - things that, if not maintained by people who have a vested interest in a home, can really make for some work.
And now, as I sit here in my cozy, historic, crooked, strange-angled, added-to old home, I feel so lucky - so fortunate to have been able to say "She's a Keeper" to the home. My grandmother says that this house has the "spirit of Elijah." While I'm no expert on things of that nature, I believe it has to do with turning the hearts of the children to their fathers[or mothers!] and in my case, I can vouch for it. I feel safe here. I know that many people in my family have been born and died here - not close to here, HERE. It is a sense of history that not even my husband can share. I am so lucky.
What are YOUR "Keepers?"
XOXO, Libbie
"Nothing is worth more than this day." - Goethe |
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dargaonfly1054
True Blue Farmgirl
257 Posts
Georgette
Nicholville
NY
USA
257 Posts |
Posted - Jun 12 2006 : 02:46:15 AM
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Libbie, What a nice story. I love the history of houses. Right now I am living in a 1890's farmhouse with the house attached to the barn. I've only been here about a year and a half and my sweetie moved in with me in February of this year. As soon as thing settle down a bit, I want to look up the history of my house. I have many things that one of the previous owners left here, like horse magazines and books and medicine and tack......and people around here knew them. But I want to find out who originally owned it, who built it. It is such a nice warm house with many many good vibes that I can feel. It is a warm and cozy house who I feel that it (the house) wraps its arms around me to keep me safe.
Georgette
"We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk..." Thoreau |
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Amie C.
True Blue Farmgirl
2099 Posts
Finger Lakes Region
NY
2099 Posts |
Posted - Jun 12 2006 : 10:30:12 AM
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I haven't been able to pick up any of the MJF magazines yet, so I'm not sure what "She's a Keeper" refers to. But I can share a bit about my house and it's former owners. Hope this isn't leading off topic!
The house I live in is part of an early "subdivision" built in 1913. Last month my husband happened to be at home during the day, which is not the norm, and an elderly stranger came to the door. He said that his uncle was the original owner of our house, and that he himself had lived there for a few years as a teenager (this would have been the late 1930s). He happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to stop by and see if he could look around the old place. Well, of course my husband brought him right in and showed him all over (very embarrassing for me when I heard about it, because the house was a mess!).
This old guy had such fond memories of the house and was able to explain details we had wondered about. He remembered sleeping in the finished attic bedroom, and how he could hear every raindrop on the roof. He also remembered seeing horse drawn wagons pass by on the street, even though cars were more typical by that time. His visit made us feel so much more connected to the house. It's nice to know that good people lived there, and that they loved the place. We are so happy that my husband happened to be at home on the day he stopped by. |
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MaryAnnP
Farmgirl at Heart
4 Posts
Mary Ann
Raleigh
NC
4 Posts |
Posted - Jun 16 2006 : 4:39:23 PM
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My grandmother's house is a "keeper," even though it has been through various other owners since the late sixties. My grandfather, a Dutch immigrant who came to this country in 1902, built it himself. I went back to see that wonderful old house two summers ago; its pitiful condition broke my heart. But it lives so strongly in my memory, and I maintain it well there. I wrote this poem about it, taking liberty with the actual flowers of Michigan and incorporating some of the blooms of my beloved South.
Old Houses in Summer
They don't have to speak, these old places:
Gram's had a cottonwood tree,
bright white blooms agains the sky
now ghostly in memory,
stairs now worn smooth by footsteps we deemed endless
long hushed by time.
Wood frames creak in the wind,
absently musing to multiplied flowers,
ancestral blooms planted long ago.
Stand on the porch and look over me.
Look beyond me, a trespasser
who sees one bright tiger lily against peeling paint,
pink mimosa blossoms on a long-neglected tree,
and magnolias opening their white breasts to the sun.
No one quite appreciates little-girl things like a grown-up girl. |
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Libbie
Farmgirl Connection Cultivator
3579 Posts
Anne E.
Elsinore
Utah
USA
3579 Posts |
Posted - Jun 16 2006 : 10:17:55 PM
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Mary Ann - that poem is just lovely. Reading it, I felt like I was on your Gram's porch myself.
XOXO, Libbie
"Nothing is worth more than this day." - Goethe |
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katiedid
True Blue Farmgirl
601 Posts
Kate
West Jordan
Utah
USA
601 Posts |
Posted - Jul 31 2006 : 7:50:43 PM
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OK, here is my "she's a keeper" story.
My dh's grandma. Grandma Lula....from the first time I met her, at my wedding, we were fast friends. She moved to a tiny little house that was close by, about 18 months later. Granny couldn't drive so I would take her to the store, or Dr.s appointments. I was a young stay at home Mama, and she was an empty nester, so sometimes we would just visit while she cooked, or we would go for a drive in the country.
This wonderful woman taught me so many great life lessons. Her upbringing was so difficult. She lived thru the depression and dust bowl in Oklahoma..she had a child out of wedlock at the age of 16. She raised 5 sons, and a handful of foster children, She took care of her aging mother who had lost her eyesight. She worked very hard to make sure her children could eat....she woke up at 3am, baked pies to sell to restaurants, just so they could pay their rent.
As life progressed she adopted her grandson, cared for her husband who suffered with alzheimer's for 7 years. She never had a day off, she would never even consider putting Pop in a nursing home.
Her life was full of sorrow and heart break, but she had the greatest sense of humor....she loved to laugh. She loved people, especially children. She was always genuinely happy to see me, and she always had a funny story to share. Granny was a great writer of stories and especially poetry.
She died two years ago on my birthday....Last year, on my birthday, I was in labor with my 4th daughter...we named her Emmeline Lula, after her granny. I hope my baby girl knows what a legacy her name is...I pray that by giving her Granny's name we also gave her the stregnth, the power, the love that Granny Lula possessed.
I firmly believe that we have a connection to those we are closest to. I don't think it was a coincidence that she died on my birthday, or that my baby was born on the exact day, one year later.
This is my story.
Granny Lula, she is a keeper.
I will always keep her in my heart.
Kate |
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Bluewrenn
True Blue Farmgirl
1122 Posts
Erin
Texas
USA
1122 Posts |
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Libbie
Farmgirl Connection Cultivator
3579 Posts
Anne E.
Elsinore
Utah
USA
3579 Posts |
Posted - Aug 29 2006 : 2:39:21 PM
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I agree - these stories are all inspiring... Thanks for sharing!
XOXO, Libbie
"Nothing is worth more than this day." - Goethe |
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sunshine
True Blue Farmgirl
4877 Posts
Wendy
Utah
USA
4877 Posts |
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tziporra
True Blue Farmgirl
234 Posts
Robin
Seattle
WA
USA
234 Posts |
Posted - Oct 18 2006 : 10:51:37 PM
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Here's my "She's a Keeper" Story
Berry Heaven
Rap rap rap. There is no way I’m going to answer that door. I’m napping with my two year old daughter, and I really need the sleep. In a few weeks I’ll have a new baby, which means months of sleep deprivation. I’ll take what I can get now, thank you very much.
Again: rap rap rap. Go Away!
And then the back door opens. Drat! I left it unlocked. Who just walks into someone’s house when the door isn’t answered? I’m furious, and a little scared. I pull myself out of my daughter’s cozy single bed and head for the stairs.
“Robin!” Of course. It’s my mother-in-law. Wait till I get a chance to tell my husband about this one. Of course, this is his fault because she’s HIS mother. If he were a better person she wouldn’t act like this.
“I brought you berries,” she calls up the stairs. “Don’t bother to come down, I’ll just leave them here on the counter. Half flat each of Marion berries and raspberries.”
All is forgiven in an instant. Wake me from a thousand naps for fresh raspberries. Two half flats of berries and organic to boot. She is an angel. A nap-interrupting angel, but heaven is worth a little loss of sleep.
After I finish up my nap I regard the treasures on my counter. The raspberries present no difficulties whatsoever. The great gleaming ruby globes are in their perfect state, sun drenched and sweet. One bite transports me to the summer I was seven years old, when I diligently picked berries at my grandparent’s farm, earning the twenty dollars I desperately wanted for the purchase of a new Sony Walkman. I can’t remember ever using the Walkman, but I remember the taste of those sun-warmed raspberries. I must’ve eaten at least as many as I picked. Before I even notice I’ve consumed two entire pints. They are good for the baby.
But what about the Marion berries? I’d make jam, but in my delicate condition I’ve decided not to can this year. The baby is due on the twenty-fifth of July, and I can’t see myself maneuvering the heavy kitchen equipment needed for canning when I’m forty weeks pregnant. Nor will I have the energy for such a task once the baby makes his appearance, and I ought to be putting up peaches and pickles for the long winter ahead. I taste one of the deep purple oblong berries, but of course it is too tart after the intense sweetness of the three pints of raspberries I’ve devoured. Getting out my freezer bags I decide to pop them right into deep freeze while they are at their best, rather than letting them languish on the counter while all the attention is given to their more desirable cousins.
And a fantastic decision that turns out to be. Long after the raspberries are a blissful memory, the Marion berries put in one star showing after another. Perfect in a pancake syrup that requires no sweetening, excellent in smoothies made with homemade yogurt, and stunning in a tart thrown together with a little leftover pizza dough and sweetened cream cheese. A berry saved is a berry earned.
Marion Berry Tart
1/3 recipe pizza dough, or whatever you have leftover after making your pizza
1 container whipped cream cheese, or whip up 4 oz. of your own.
1 tablespoon honey (omit if your cream cheese is the leftover pre-sweetened kind, strawberry and honey-almond flavors work particularly well.)
1 pint Marion berries, frozen
Get out your trusty MaryJanesFarm cast-iron skillet and preheat the oven to 500 degrees (you probably already have done this if you are making pizza). Spread the pizza dough in the bottom, top with cream cheese and stud with frozen Marion berries. Bake until crust is golden and the cheese is bubbly, about 8-10 minutes. Cool a few minutes, but eat while piping hot. |
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Libbie
Farmgirl Connection Cultivator
3579 Posts
Anne E.
Elsinore
Utah
USA
3579 Posts |
Posted - Oct 19 2006 : 5:03:03 PM
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What a "berry" wonderful story, Robin (I couldn't resist...)!!! 'Sounds like the berries AND the mother in law are keepers!
XOXO, Libbie
"Nothing is worth more than this day." - Goethe |
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Kelly43
True Blue Farmgirl
349 Posts
NJ
USA
349 Posts |
Posted - Oct 21 2006 : 07:18:56 AM
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These are all great stories, I so like hearing them, they make me feel warm and cozy inside. I'm hoping for a "she's a keeper' to be coming into my life soon. We have had an offer accepted on a farm that we are in love with. The house was built in 1840 and has been lovingly restored by the current owner. The barns need some work and there are things about the property that need to be updated and changed but we are excited about doing that. We just had the offer accepted so will do attorney review and home inspections in the upcoming weeks so everybody keep your fingers crossed. It is so scarey, this will be our first house. I hope to write about it in this post very soon!!
Kel |
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brightmeadow
True Blue Farmgirl
2045 Posts
Brenda
Lucas
Ohio
USA
2045 Posts |
Posted - Oct 21 2006 : 4:26:48 PM
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Well, my husband has Maybelline, she's a keeper!
We had been dating only a few weeks when he told me at lunch, at work, that he couldn't see me that weekend. He had to go visit Maybelline in Michigan... I felt a flood of emotions, jealousy ("who's Maybelline!?!") embarrassment at being told there was someone else in public, fear I would lose him to this Maybelline, whoever...The emotions must have showed on my face as he smiled and said "Maybelline is my grandpa's truck, she's a 1949 Chevrolet"
I finally got to meet Maybelline a few weeks later, I also met her friends the 1939 "M" tractor and the 1951 Ford 8N, but they remain nameless... Only Maybelline has a name.
She has lost most of the leather cover over her upholstery, the driver has to hold his door closed, but the passenger has to open the door from the outside. She is air-conditioned, as there are holes in the floorboards.
This year, I foolishly asked my husband that if something happened to me, what kind of a woman he would look for to replace me. He replied "A redhead- a self-starter, with a strong back". Once again I was shocked that he had an answer to this question already, but, he then laughed and said "Maybelline! She has a self-starter (as opposed to a crank) and a strong back..."
Here is a picture of Maybelline. Isn't she a beauty?
And she's still a working truck.
Oh, I guess the bank barn is a keeper too, we resided it that year with metal siding so that maybe it will last another 150 years.
You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands - You shall be happy and it shall be well with you. -Psalm 128.2
Visit my blog at http://brightmeadowfarms.blogspot.com ,web site store at http://www.watkinsonline.com/fish or my homepage at http://home.earthlink.net/~brightmeadow |
Edited by - brightmeadow on Oct 21 2006 4:34:40 PM |
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mommom
True Blue Farmgirl
854 Posts
Susan
Lancaster
Pennsylvania
USA
854 Posts |
Posted - Oct 21 2006 : 7:25:24 PM
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My keeper story is a woman by the name of Stella. She was 80 years young when I first met her and started cleaning her house every Wednesday. She did not trust me....not one little bit. In fact, for the first three months I cleaned for her I never got paid because she would hide her purse from me and then forget where she hid it! But, let me say that I don't blame people for not trusting their housekeeper right off. She didn't know me. Her son had told her that she could have a new mower or a housekeeper. She chose me.
My family would ask me why I stayed with her if I didn't get paid and I really couldn't explain it except that I felt she was someone I needed in my life. As time went on we became very close. I found her hiding place where her purse was but never let on. Finally, one day she paid me. After that we were inseparable. I would walk in and she would tell me to sit down and have a glass of prune juice with her because she was constipated! Or she'd make coffee so strong I would shake from it! And, she loved to dance. She would put on Frank Sinatra and we'd jitterbug in the living room! I would fasten her bra for her. We'd go to her bank and then go out to lunch or shopping. She would come to my house for dinner. One night she forgot she had soup on the stove and set her kitchen on fire and I went over to help her clean up after the fire company had left. We had a surprise 25th wedding anniversary and she gave us 25 silver dollars. That was in August 2003. In October of 2003 we moved to Pa. She was very upset with me. She told me that if I moved...she would die. And, she did just that. On Dec. 5th, 2003, her 86th birthday , she had a stroke and died. One of her granddaughters called to tell me.
I miss that woman so much. At the age of 86 she had not one gray or white hair in her head...and no haircoloring, either. She was so happy and full of life. She wasn't an old woman....she filled a void in my life and I knew it the minute I met her...even if she wasn't too sure of me! Whenever I count my blessings, she's "the keeper" who is at the top of my list! Susan |
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Huckelberrywine
True Blue Farmgirl
1607 Posts
Michelle
Rosalia
1607 Posts |
Posted - Apr 24 2007 : 5:11:25 PM
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Here's a "She's a Keeper story" I promised Sunny at MaryJane's Farm I'd write. It has taken awhile, but some messages are timeless. I hope it inspires others to find ways to reuse, repurpose, or rethink how to use the resources we have at hand. I do have photos, and can make copies available if there is interest. This is a story about a grain elevator burning. All the wood in the structure was in pristine condition, and the structure was massive.
Only Smoke and Ashes
The End of the Squaw Canyon Grain Elevator
A hawk flew in over the scene, high overhead to ride the updrafts before retreating. The air rising from the burning grain elevator outside of Malden, Washington was simply too hot. Residents old and young, farmers, kids, members of the local historical society, and men who had “pounded at least a keg of nails in that myself” came to witness the burning of the cribbed wood structure that for at least 50 years had stored many farmers’ wheat harvests before heading to market.
This burning was not accidental. The towering elevator had become a dangerous liability; the owners could not keep curious people or vermin out of the unoccupied building. Once ablaze, it became a training opportunity for local firefighters. The fire quickly became so hot, so powerful, they had to retreat and watch with the gathering crowd.
The cribbed construction, a process whereby the 2x8 boards were laid flat on each other and manually nailed into place, reportedly could not be salvaged. The construction was too dense to wrest the boards apart. Cranes would have to lift workers to dangerous heights to begin the process of removing the tight grained fir boards by hand, working their way down. Several companies specializing in salvaging lumber had been contacted, but due to the expense and danger, the wood was deemed unsalvageable. It was old, but perhaps not old enough to merit the cost of the salvage. How old is “old enough?”
The day before, snow fell. Shutters opened and closed, letting light diffuse inward, falling on broken light fixtures, dusty floors, a scattered sheaf of receipt booklets and empty grain sacks decorated with a smiling cartoon lentil waving from the past. A poster from 1969 warned about the dangers of drinking and driving, showing a happy teenage boy toasting viewers with a beer bottle, a superimposed car wreck across his chest.
There was no rustle of pigeon wings, no scurrying feet. No romantic shafts of light through grain dust. It was dim, smelly, historic, doomed. Old, but not old enough.
I watched. I heard the roaring of hungry flames tear through the dry wood. In an old wooden grain elevator, the grain splays down the sides of the wooden walls and over time gently carves images, like infrequent water cascading over sandstone in the desert, leaving beautiful figures carved into the wood. In some places, people convert these former grain storage facilities into homes, or climbing walls, or other useful structures. But it was too late, or too expensive, or too something, and this structure simply burned and was lost.
It is too bad. I have a carved wooden bowl, made from a beam salvaged the day before the burning. When it was being turned on the lathe, the wood smelled fresh. The grain of the wood still glows with life. There are blackened holes where nails were pulled. It is soft, and warm, and somehow still living. This is all that is left of a piece of farming history in this area.
We make a difference. |
Edited by - Huckelberrywine on Apr 24 2007 5:14:09 PM |
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Libbie
Farmgirl Connection Cultivator
3579 Posts
Anne E.
Elsinore
Utah
USA
3579 Posts |
Posted - Apr 28 2007 : 06:58:28 AM
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Oh, Michelle - what a tragedy. I am so glad that you were able to salvage a beam and have that lovely bowl to remember the elevator by. Things can be "keepers" in so many ways - and the loss of that lovely wood is so sad. I can almost picture what it looked like - and I wish I could have done something... Thanks for the inspiration - there are plenty of old and wonderful structures in my little valley, and I now have new thoughts and a new feeling for their futures!
You write beautifully. Thank you for the story.
XOXO, Libbie
"All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar..." - Helen Hayes |
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lisamarie508
True Blue Farmgirl
2648 Posts
Lisa
Idaho City
ID
USA
2648 Posts |
Posted - May 09 2007 : 12:59:26 PM
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My keeper would be our house. Built in 1867 during the goldrush here in Idaho City. We first moved into this house 5 years ago as renters. It's only one story but with an attic tall enough to stand up in, 2 bedrooms and a third room that could be but has no windows, a bathroom that looks like they converted the pantry and a huge farm style kitchen with a pantry added on to the north side all situated on a 1/2 acre. We cleaned the place up, painted inside and out, put in new gardens and cleaned up the old ones and just fell in love with this place.
Both my husband and daughter swear they saw a ghost in the kitchen (same night/different times) petting one of our dogs. I get nothing but warm, loving vibes from this place. If any spirits are hanging around they don't seem perturbed with us and apparently like our dogs!
Two years ago this August, it officially became ours when we signed the mortgage papers. This is actually the very first home we ever owned. A little late in life, but that's ok. Nothing great ever comes easy.
As we began work on the house itself we found that every wall, floor and ceiling was built with 1X10 and 1X12 fir planks and square nails - inside and out. We gutted our bedroom to put insulation in the walls. We thought we'd find old newspaper, posters, sawdust...but nothing. The folks who built this house must have froze in the winter! But we found this beautiful wood under all the old layers of wallpaper and cheap paneling and decided we liked it exposed. So we numbered the boards as we took them down so we could put them back up in the same order. Our bedroom has such a warm cozy feeling to it now. I love that room. That room also has the only two original windows left in the house. Single pane wavy glass is not very energy efficient but we just can't bear to replace them. The kitchen was the original house, with the bedrooms and living room being added not too much later. The bathroom and a back room were added much later after the turn of the century. One of our elder neighbors who grew up near here showed us where the old well and outhouse used to be. We are currently excavating the old well(by hand) to use that water for irrigation purposes. We know (or know of) several previous owners but still have not gone back far enough to find out who the original owner is.
This house went through many owners as the house had NO insulation and was extremely cold and drafty. The last owners told me that they used to go through 13 cords of wood each winter until they blew insulation in the attic and that took it down to 10 cords. We have it down to about 6-7 cords. It's a lot of work to live in this house but it's worth it. It has stood through all kinds of history, renters, fires and weather and deserves the TLC it takes to keep it standing.
We come from Nature, we go back to Nature; health & happiness in between requires intimacy with Nature. |
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KYgurlsrbest
True Blue Farmgirl
4853 Posts
Jonni
Elsmere
Kentucky
USA
4853 Posts |
Posted - May 09 2007 : 1:55:06 PM
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My "She's a Keeper" is Ella Mae Holiday. Ella Mae is 87 years old, and lives here, in Covington, Kentucky, about 10 blocks from our law office. I met Ella through another elderly client, Georgetta Askew Wright, who was 99 when she passed away in August 2004. She and Ella were friends, and she had asked Ella to be her executor. Ella was difficult to approach, initially. She had just lost her dear friend of many years, and the job that was set out for her (cleaning out a dear one's home, throwing things away, paying bills, reporting to a Court) all seemed insurmountable. Sensing that she really didn't know how to begin, I gingerly offered my assistance in helping her clean out the house. The house was located in what is considered a "terrible crime ridden area" of inner city Covington, a bit of gang and drug violence here and there, and she seemed charmed, to say the least, that I would be interested in setting foot there. So she took me up on my offer, and I came after work every Tuesday until the house was sold. During those times, going through Georgetta's things, she would tell me about their relationship, how they met (Georgetta married later in life, after a "wondrous time" in Harlem, NY, during the famed Harlem Renaissance. She married an older gentleman, a porter on the railroad, who was Ella's uncle, Jordan. And then she would talk, talk, about Jordan, and her mother and grandmother, and the flood of 1937 and pillbugs tied in sacks around your neck when you had "the croup" and anything and everything I could get her to tell me. She made great fun of me when I didn't know what certain kitchen implements were, and she scolded me when I attempted to pay her for any linens or anything that I found I wanted.
She always walked the 10 blocks to our office, and on one particular visit she came in very upset. The estate account was overdrawn by a considerable amount. When I sat down, did some figuring and spoke with the bank, I soon realized that Ms. Ella had never balanced a check book before--she'd never had one. "I've never had enough money to have a checking account" she said to me. "If you have checks, you've got money, right?" So, we took that one on together.
In the time that I spent with her, I had been looking at her a lot, closely, on our visits and sitting in the floor wrapping glassware. She reminded me of my father, who was native american. Cherokee, to be exact, and so I asked her, "Miss Ella, do you have native american blood?" She absolutely beamed, and said, "Child, you are the first person to ever...not even my family has ever even noticed that about me!", and the next time she walked the 10 blocks to our office, she brought me her grandmother's clay pipe, and a beaded necklace. Her grandfather was a slave and married a cherokee woman, in Sanfordville, Kentucky just after the civil war. She still owns the very land that her grandfather was given upon his freedom, and proudly showed me the deed.
Georgetta's estate eventually wound down, but we make sure to keep in touch. I send her cards for every holiday, and she does the same, especially Christmas and Easter, because those are her favorites. I always go on Easter and Christmas to her home, with my little token of our friendship (usually candy from her favorite local sweet shop, and a giftcertificate to the supermarket, because she's now the guardian of her 3 great grandchildren). I felt proud when she turned to me to help her with that, too.
Just this past Good Friday, we closed early, so I made sure to have her gifts with me. We had a lovely visit as always, with her grandchildren and great grandchildren looking at me like I'd descended from the moon..."You are my grandmother's friend? How?" I often wonder--do they mean our age, or our color. That we can be different but the same, and that I learn from her and she learns from me.
When we hug goodbye, each and everytime, she says, "Child, you are always in my heart. I love you and I love your soul". When I got home, there was Ella's Easter card waiting for me in the mailbox, right on time.
"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." Margaret Atwood
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Huckelberrywine
True Blue Farmgirl
1607 Posts
Michelle
Rosalia
1607 Posts |
Posted - May 09 2007 : 4:52:41 PM
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OH, what wonderful keepers you both have. I just loved reading both stories. Both are so inspiring. :)
We make a difference. |
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Carol Sue
True Blue Farmgirl
4033 Posts
Carol Sue
Washingtonian
USA
4033 Posts |
Posted - Jul 19 2007 : 04:57:56 AM
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Having a home has been, she's a keeper. A home is where your heart is and it matters not what it is built of.
Our home is an older mobile that is only 12 x 60, but it is our home. We want it to have a wonderful character so along the way we have been collecting. There were 2 older homes in our area that they were destroying, it was hard but nothing could be done. So they allowed us to take up the fir floor in one and a couple of cupboards and some of the trim, the other home had an old sink that will go in our bathroom, along with the claw foot tub that we found at a thrift store for 65.00. It all takes time and money but rescueing things to make our home our home is a delight.
It doesn't matter where you live, it matters that you learn how to occupy the space that you live in making it your own.
The other keeper was my grandmother, who helped teach me about what a home really was. It is a place filled with love, laughter, family. I remember her teaching me how to milk Bessy when I was about 5 and the thrill I got when there was actually milk coming out!!!
She prayed for me all my life, and we would sit and talk as she got a lot older. She liked growing african violets, yes, I love to grow them too.
She made jam and canned. Sitting in my kitchen is her jam spoon that she used and I used this year with my dear daughter and granddaughters. It was so much having a part of her there in my life and family.
She loved writing and had a few of her short stories published, she always gave hugs.
She loved cats and had one every place that she lived, even at the end when it was only stuffed. I made her a kitty quilt that she used, she had dementia at the end, but at 93 she was still a character. I miss her.
But oh she was a keeper!!!!!
Enjoying the moments. |
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CabinCreek-Kentucky
True Blue Farmgirl
8529 Posts
Frannie
Green County
Kentucky
USA
8529 Posts |
Posted - Jul 26 2007 : 2:33:26 PM
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oh chilluns .. this wonderful kentucky farm that we are spending a few chapters in our book of life living in (Cabin Creek Farm) is truly a KEEPER for us! But then, as with all of life ... eventually we have to release everything in our lives to future caretakers. These incredible olde cabins have been here since the Civil War .. and many 'caretakers' have 'kept' them for awhile. I wrote all about this under Cabin Creek Farm under the A FARM OF MY OWN awhile back .. with lotsa' pictures too.
As each family who has lived here .. we, too, have made them 'our own' with our own loves and 'touches'.
I've very much enjoyed reading all your stories. xo, frannie
True Friends, Frannie
CABIN CREEK FARM
KENTUCKY
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jcbtxstars
True Blue Farmgirl
77 Posts
Julia C
Midland
Texas
USA
77 Posts |
Posted - Aug 07 2007 : 09:56:58 AM
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Frannie could you email me, please.
Julia |
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Keeping in Touch: She's a Keeper...post your stories here! |
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She's a Keeper...post your stories here!
