Welcome friends...thanks for coming by. We're seeking beauty in all of creation... in our faith and our families; our art and our music; our crafts and kitchens, and even in our own backyard. We'll share a poem or a recipe, a picture or a memory; maybe a dream of how we wish our life could be. And though we acknowledge that the world can be harsh, we're keeping it pleasant in our little corner; endeavoring to keep the words from the Book of all Books: ...Whatsoever things are lovely; think on these things.

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Photo: Bee and thistle: Taken high in the Cascade Mountains where there is a bee buzzing on every thistle. by Debora Rorvig

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Lilac and Lavender Memories

     Lilacs remind me of Grandma's house. She lived in a pretty cottage-style house near a lake. I loved that house. Grandma was a meticulous housekeeper. Even mom said so; and mom didn't like her mother-in-law very much. She told me that she used to go into Grandma's pantry and run her fingers along the creamy-painted open shelves that housed her glassware--looking for dust. She never found any. Not once!
     In spite of Mom's feud with Grandma, I liked going there. Every room had it's own loveliness and special scent. The turquoise kitchen had a little chrome dinette set that sat under a window lined with African Violets of every hue. The kitchen smelled of roasted beef and cinnamon-apple pies and just baked sugar cookies.
      Her bathroom was sparkly white with a clawfoot tub and pedestal sink. Sometimes I'd go in there even when I didn't need to use the bathroom; just to wash my hands with her fancy Yardley soaps and sniff Grandpa Charlie's Old Spice after shave. And occasionally, if I felt really brave, I'd give her pretty cologne atomizers a little squeeze-in spite of mother's stern warnings to keep out of Grandma's perfume. She kept a little tin of lilac talcum powder on the windowsill. I always marvelled at how it smelled just like the real flowers--and so did Grandma.
     Back in those days, Grandmas always wore dresses. Her's were silky florals, always in dreamy lavenders, pinks and blues. I thought that she must wear those colors to match her clear blue eyes. 
     I really hope that my own grandchildren will have such pleasant memories of their visits to my house. No, I'll never be half the housekeeper or cook that my grandma was; but I do try to make my place tidy and neat. And I purposely leave a few pretty things around for them to secretly inspect. I listen to their parents scold them and tell them not to touch Grandma's pretty things...and I smile to myself. Of course I want them to touch my pretty things, to smell them and to enjoy them. But I keep this to myself. I'll just let them sneak a whiff of my perfume, or a dab of my lotion.
     And though I'm far too practical to wear those pretty pastel dresses like my grandma did; I do love to wear a nice cotton blouse when they visit- often in shades of blue. To match the blue eyes I inherited from my grandma.


Linda O'Connell said...

Your lovely post brought back wonderful memories of my grandma.

My grandchildren like to inspect my costume jewlery and try on the bracelets. The first thing they always wanted to do when they were little is have me measure how tall they'd grown and mark it on my measuring stick. There is a Dalmation on top of the stick and clip on bones with each of their names on them that can be moved as they grow. Sometimes, even the fourteen year olds still want me to measure them.

Debora said...

I think the beauty of grandparent-hood is that our older grandchildren can somehow remain children with us, no matter what their age. There's no pressure to be grown up at grandma's house. Those children will remember that Dalmation stick forever.

Anneliese said...

I love how your wrote this!!! Made me feel like I was there... and makes me love your grandma too! ...


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