Childhood Revisited

The rush of remembrance that overtakes you when you first see some long forgotten object or person from your past has visited several times in the last couple of weeks. When my brothers were here, they cleaned out several attic closets. Old books, GI Joes and other keepsakes brought back plenty of wonderful memories, and a few embarrassing ones as well (like the bumble bee that I whacked my brother with, giving him a gash that required stitches).

They found my crib mobile too. I don't specifically remember it hanging over my bed; but the very familiarness of it makes me feel fuzzy inside. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it in the long run; but for now, I am working on turning the characters into rubber stamps. Now there's a big surprise, huh?

Also found was my very first stuffed animal; one that I received on the day I was born. No, I don't remember that either; but I do remember him. He needs a bath and a new bow.

Can you tell I was born in the 70s? I didn't play with dolls, but I did all of the usual doll things with stuffed animals. The mini quilt was part of that play for a long time.


I was shopping for my almost 11yo's bday last night and came across Zotz. These were some of my favorite candies as a kid. I didn't know they still made them. Sour candies are pretty common place now, but I don't remember many (other than lemon drops) being available then. Mom would send me to the grocery store on my bike and I could stop at Basinger Drugs on the way home. They had what seemed like the biggest candy aisle on the planet. Zotz were almost always on the menu. It was fun to give them to unsuspecting friends because they foam in your mouth when you get to the center.

Your turn. What were some of your favorites from childhood?

Legacy in Stitches

"Legacy in Stitches" is one of those stamps that I'd like another crack at, but will not likely ever take. This quilt stamp was created for the Country Comforts postal letterbox series that I did a while back. Fiber Arts is such a big part of so many people's lives and nothings brings back memories better than a hand made quilt.
For the image, I took one of my Mother's quilt books and scanned all of the block patterns for one applique quilt into my computer. Then I used Photoshop to piece them all together and resize them. Which was insane. Still, I ended up with a decent image transfer and the carve went fairly well. I was still in my "pink stuff" phase and combining negative and positive carving.


I attempted to color the stamp like the quilt in the book. Even after practice it took 20 minutes. This is the best color image that I was able to get.

Want to hear a funny quilt story?
My parents went on a vacation and I stayed at their house to take care of things. One day, I was cleaning up and tossed a dirty quilt into the washer. It was mostly white, with a multi-colored double wedding ring pattern on it. I knew that Mom washed it and so did think anything of it. Until I opened the lid of the washer. The entire quilt was the color of cranberry juice! Only then did I remember putting some mulberry placemats in the wash the day before. I was positively sick. I cried. I couldn't eat. I was sure that my parents had received that quilt as a wedding present and I had ruined it.
A couple of days later when Mom called to check in, I confessed to what I had done in between sobs. I knew she was going to be upset.
The first thing she said was, "What? You mean the dog's blanket?"

We're still laughing about it.

Fishing

At the machine shop that my Grandfather owned and where my Dad and several Uncles worked, there was a small lake. Grandpa kept the lake stocked and during the summers, my brothers and I would sometimes head out with Dad on his way to work in the morning for a day of "fishing". There was a bait shop over the hill where we could purchase wax worms and stink cheese. Sometimes there were cousins there too or the other men in the shop would bring their kids. A 2 story boat house and several boats came and went over the years. There were a number of fishing derbies; one which involved Grandpa raffling off a restored Mustang, much to my dismay at the time. Occasionally there would be a catfish fry in the kitchen above the shop. My brother earned the nickname (which made him angry) of the "little boy who falls in the lake" for his several accidental trips into the water, including one through a fishing hole in the ice one winter. My Zebco is probably still in Mom and Dad's basement.
I'm not sure how much fishing actually got done, but lots of fun was had and memories were made, which I kind of think is the point of fishing in the first place.

Private Memories

My brother Eric, who could be a professional photographer with little trouble, has the philosophy that if you spend all of your time behind a camera or video lens there is a great deal that you can miss.
This plays out in our household on a regular basis. An interesting bird or animal shows up in our yard and I can choose to run for the camera or just sit and enjoy. If I go for the camera then I run the risk of the creature disappearing before I've had a chance to get a good look at it. On the other hand, if it stays then I might get a photo as a permanent memento. What a dilemma! It certainly allows me to see the advantages of Charlotte Mason's method of Nature Study~observe and draw it in your journal as soon as you can.

As the person with the super senses in our house (everyone knows that Moms hear, see and smell all), I am privy to conversations and happenings when my children are unaware that I am paying attention. This gives me the opportunity to provide guidance and correction where necessary. Perhaps what is more fun is that it also allows me to build up my own storehouse of memories that no camera could duplicate.

Yesterday, for instance, after we had finished with our history lesson on the Emperor Justinian and the Byzantine Empire, the girls were having a conversation about why they were glad that Justinian and Theodora had rebuilt the Hagia Sophia after the rebellion had been overthrown. Not only did the discussion tell me that they remembered the lesson well enough not to even need the test (which they got anyway), but it made me smile inside to hear my 7yo throw around terms like Hagia Sophia with such dispatch and talk about how she felt about an event that happened 1500 years ago.
This morning J came into my room holding a 9 inch blue ball under her chin and asked me if I thought she looked like a Frigate bird. Yes, I laughed. And then proceeded to hug her until she pretended she was choking. No photograph could possibly convey the context of that experience.

I'm sure that every mother has in her mind and heart page after page of such memories for which there can be no picture to do it justice.
I pray that nothing every happens to that scrapbook.