Tempus Fugit...Time Flies

     

     Today, in my continued quest to simplify my life and modernize my home, I gathered up 4 pair of shoes, a set of curtains, a small set of Shakespeare's collected works, 2 bed ruffles, and a chintz covered chair. I also made up my mind to sell the clock.
      We came to own the grandfather clock when we moved into our home, about 5 years ago.  The seller, Ivy, a lively 88 year-old widow, was moving in with her children and would not have room for it in her mom-in-law apartment. As we strolled through the house with her after closing the sale, she paused in front of the clock. Her bright blue eyes misted over and she stroked the old clock-- as you would touch an intimate friend or lover. It seemed as though the by touching the old timepiece; she hoped to recall once more and hold in her palm--all of the wonderful days and hours; minutes and seconds that she'd spent in this place with her beloved late husband. The two great loves of Ivy's life are her husband and her garden. I say 'are' because Ivy is still alive and living a vital life with her family. Her health is extraordinary for a woman of about 94 years old. She still works in the garden, and even drives!
     "Howard was a good carpenter," she told us with pride.He'd constructed the window boxes for her so many years ago. I glanced out the living room window at them...they were filled to the brim with sweet pink geraniums and cascading white alyssum. So delicate and lovely- so like her. There were roses of every hue, Shasta daisies, towering blue spruce, hedges of boxwood, scarlet rhododendron...all carefully and lovingly planted by Ivy and Howard over the course of their lifetime together. And now she would have to leave it all behind...even the clock.
     "Would you like to buy it?" her eyes brightened with hope.
     I didn't hesitate.
     "Oh yes, I'd love it." I knew in my heart that the only bit of consolation she would have in leaving her home, was the thought that  Kelly and I would have the same love for her home and for one another- as she'd had with her Howard. So the clock, and the house became ours.
     But the clock is out-dated by today's standards...and it's oak. So is my table, my hutch, and my gi-normous victorian bedroom suite. I'd like to replace them all. 
     The clock face said 'Tempis Fugit.' I summoned up the words on Google-trying to determine a fair price to ask for it when I posted it on Craigslist. Tempis Fugit, according to the experts is not the brand of the clock. It's a saying. It means, Time Flies.
     As I stood before the old clock, gazing into it's face-those words spoke to my heart. Time flies. Kelly and I are in our 50's--when did that happen? My babies are parents now. My grandchildren are growing like weeds. Every one of the grandkids, at some time or another, has delighted in standing before this clock, counting the chimes so that, even though they were too young to tell time; they could proudly turn and say..."It's nine o'clock Gramma!"  How would they feel on the next visit to Grandma's, if the old clock was gone?     
     Even Heather, my daughter, paused a moment when I telephoned her to say that I was selling the clock. Though her taste is modern and she would love for me to update my house, she quietly said, "I dunno, Mom.  I love old clocks. I still want a cuckoo clock everytime I see one- because we had one when I was little. I just can't get over it."
     Maybe I'm being a sentimental fool, but I think that old clock was trying to tell me something. "Don't be in such a hurry for change...it happens almost imperceptibly; but rapidly, nonetheless. So savor your life, your moments together with you husband. Relish every day that you spend with family...and enjoy your life to the fullest." That's what the clock said.
     So I dusted the old boy off and fixed the broken finial on top. I got out the dolly and shuttled my clock into the dining room...where I'm sure he'll happily coexist with my other oak furniture. And I think he looks quite content in that corner, right next to the window. Peeking out through the window, he can see the pink rose is in bloom that Ivy planted decades ago.
     Who knows, perhaps in years to come, I'll be the one running my hands over it's antique face and saying wistfully to some young couple, "Would you like to buy this clock?"

My dining room...with grandfather clock

Keeping Grandma Youngdyke's dishes too. My sister found them at an antique store. This was the same set that Grandma had. We don't know the brand; but they are pretty, aren't they? So sweet of my Sis to give them to me. Grandma Y. died when I was a baby, so these dishes are one of my few connections to her.

Kelly bought me this cup while vacationing at Harrison Hot Springs. It was a quaint little shop run by an elderly gent; an Aussie. Though in his 80's he raising his young grandson. There was some kind of tragedy surrounding the boy's mother-so the gentleman named the boy Phoenix, after a beautiful mythical bird. The story goes that near the end of the birds long life, it builds a nest of twigs which ignite. The bird and the nest are burned ferociously and reduced to nothing but ashes. But from those ashes a new young phoenix is reborn and lives again. The old man simply adores his grandson, and the grandson his grandfather. I think both of their lives are richer for having been brought together through tragedy. Their lives are truly, the story of the Phoenix. 

A pair of lovely old prints flank my hutch.

One of my favorite pieces of art by Jim Daly. Tom & Huck Finn aren't getting much done, are they?

Grandma Strong's rocking chair. Kelly's grandma was so lovely. I had three children when Kelly and I married. She treated my children with equal fondness to all of her other grandchildren. I will always love her for that.

A Christmas gift from Stacy, my sister in law. That year she gave me a big beautiful decorated box filled with vintage teacups and the most graceful, pale pink teapot I've ever seen. Some people don't like buying 'used' things as gifts, but Stace knows how much I love to have tea-parties. So thanks again Stacy, for the very thoughtful gift.

Shortly after we married, Kelly's Grand-Dad passed away. My mother-in-law Virginia, and her sister Jackie, pooled their inheritances and took the entire family to Disneyworld--compliments of Grand-Dad. If I remember correctly, there were 25 family members on that trip! It was my very first plane ride. Kelly bought me this teacup at Epcot Center. The first of many. Thank you Virginia, for that special trip. And to Grand-Dad...truly the greatest grandfather I have ever met...although my husband rivals him, that's for sure!

Time Flies, Grandfather Clock.
Thank-you for the reminder.

I Am From...

I Am From...

by Debora Rorvig

I am from a lumber mill worker’s company house
with peeling paint and a sidewalk made of two by fours.
From faded flannel shirts that smell of pine and cedar boughs.

I am from Mason Jars of homed-canned pears,
from Dairygold milk with cream on top
in bottles on the porch.

I am from a garden plot with rows and rows of golden corn
that always wanted hoeing,
and from atop the highest branches of the Gravenstein apple tree in the Attolini’s orchard-
with apple juice dripping from my chin.

I am from saurkraut and wooden shoes-
the Millers and the Youngedykes,
and from the lively Scottish clan
who wear the McKinnon tartan.

From farmers and woodsmen
plain folk all,
who’s hands were calloused hard
but who’s hearts were tender-soft.

I am from ‘what will the neighbors think’
and ‘if you can’t say something nice,
don’t say anything at all.’

From saints and sinners who didn’t see eye to eye
but loved each other anyway,
and in their own way.

I am from the Western shores of Washington
strewn with agates,kelp and driftwood,
from Steelhead salmon, salty smoked
and chowder made from clams we dug
at Semiahmoo spit.

I am from my mother Ruby,
who taught me how to sew
on the old Singer treadle machine;
and told me all about my heritage.

And from my daddy, Raymond Claude
who took me nightcrawler hunting in the moonlight
and showed me how to bait my hook
and fish along the Nooksack River’s edge.

I am from an ancient, tattered Holy Bible kept safely on the upper shelf
with pictures of Jesus Christ
and a letter edged in black- carefully tucked inside.
There are births and deaths recorded there,
and a poem by great- great grandfather Alexander Laughlin Mckinnon
who I never met--and yet I know him
better than some I’ve met.
Precious is that Book to me.

And that is where I am from.
 
 
 
I created this poem as a tribute to my ancestors and a gift to my family. I used a common meme called "I Am From" based on a poem by the great George Ella Lyon, as a loose outline. You can find this outline at http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm. Try it! You'll be surprised at the memories that will stir in your heart from this exercise.
 



We're on Etsy, We're on Etsy!

My sister Linda, and I are taking it to the streets-figuratively speaking that is. We've just opened an Etsy shop called 'Ruby's Girls'-named after our mom. As you can see, this post is being written at 1:23 am because I've been up all evening working on policies, shipping, paypal, and the like. So far we only have a few listings, but that will change. It's a small start, but sometimes big things come from small beginnings. Wish us luck! Here's the link:

www.etsy.com/shop/rubysgirls



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I picked up this chair at the Salvation Army Thrift Store for about $7--thinking it would be a great piece to refurbish and sell in our antique booth at Keepsakes. It was painted bright yellow and had a kind of stripey, woven fabric seat in oranges/golds, and browns. I liked it very much as it was; but because it has such lovely, classic lines, I decided to paint it a nice black lacquer color for a more formal look. And instead of using black and white toile fabric for the seatcover as originally planned, I opted for the pink cabbage roses on black fabric. I don't know why. I just have this sense that pink is going to come back-and though I'm not a frou-frou kind of girl, I think I might be ready for a little pink. What do you think? (PS, the chair still sits in my foyer. May have to find another one for Keepsakes!)

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Pretty Prints of Children

These pretty prints are by Chinese artist Kee Fung Ng. I found them while searching for items to sell in our antique store booth at Keepsakes. I never buy anything I wouldn't want to have for myself. I absolutely adore pictures of children, so I bought them without hesitation. The artist was born in mainland China in 1941. Some years later he emigrated to the US and established his own gallery in San Francisco. He painted these from memories of his days in China. Aren't they exquisite?

They remind me of wonderful times spent on the beach with my own children. I'd often take them to Auntie Melba's beach house at Sandy Point, or to Birch Bay in the summer. We'd spend long lazy days meandering along the sandy shoreline looking for treasures, wading in warm tide pools, and hopping over incoming waves. It was the one place I can honestly say where my 3 children never squabbled with each other. I think the beach just gives you the space to be yourself. There is nothing more precious than a little child, and no better place to take them than the ocean!

Sisters Are Blossoms in the Garden of Life

I found this sweet little plate while on a shopping expedition with my sister, Linda. It says, "Sisters are Blossoms in the Garden of Life." How true! My sister is such a treasure to me. It's so appropriate that the little girl is holding a teddy bear...we spent the entire afternoon looking for teddy bears for our antique booth. What a hoot! A piece of advice; when sorting through second-hand stuffed animals you need to take your sister, your sense of humour, and a bottle of hand sanitizer!

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Now isn't that ducky!!!

Love the Duck!

It was love at first sight. I picked him up last week at a thrift store. He's a small casserole. Very vintage. He's by the Hall company. But I don't love him for his pedigree, I love him because he is sweet!

I just don't know if I can part with him...

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Keepsakes, Look for Booth 10!

Booth 10 is finally open for business! My sister Linda and I went on our first official buying trip and found lots of pretty old things! We've been busy researching our treasures, dusting, ironing, folding, washing and pricing our merchandise. Oh my, what we've collected over the years...
King's Crown glassware, Blue Willow, vintage crocheted bedspreads and old linens, antique vases...the list is endless. What fun!!!

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A Quick Note

Summer memories: Grandma and Isabella hunt for shells

Just a quick note to those who may visit my blog from time to time...I haven't abandoned you! Summer's over and I'm back at school; doing the job I love most! What's more, my sister and I are starting a new little venture that has taken a little more time than we anticipated. We've rented a space in a local antique shop and are in the process of assembling our inventory. I don't know how successful we will be, but we sure are having fun. For you local folks, we are in the shop called Keepsakes in Lynden. Look for booth 10!