Up there by my weathervane are two glass floats that my uncle collected on fishing trips; the smaller one is stamped with a Japanese symbol. My mom grew up in Ketchikan, Alaska; her dad was a commercial fisherman, and my uncle (Juneau, AK) and a cousin (Enumclaw, WA) followed in his footsteps (my uncle was also a physician). So these floats speak to me of a heritage I grew up hearing about from people I dearly love. (They also go perfectly with the color of my walls, which is a paler version of the copper veridris on the weathervane.) Below is a photo facing our front door, showing the broader setting of the floats. Our main space is a "great room;" you can see the kitchen on the left, the living area is on the right, and the dining area is behind me.
Here is my "new" set of Franciscan Rose dishes. They used to belong to my maternal grandmother; as a child (Mom and I lived with her for awhile) I always thought they were beautiful. So was my grandma; she was one of my favorite people in the whole world. Perhaps my fondness for these dishes is simply an extension of my feelings for her; at any rate, when Mom asked me if I wanted them I practically shouted, "Yes!"So when can you come over for dinner?
That's it for now at . . .
7 comments:
Michelle,
Those dishes mean Grandma to me, too, except it was my oldest son's grandma or Grandma McQ that had them. I think of her whenever I see them. You are very lucky.
How special for you to have your grandma's dishes - I have my grandma's rolling pin - I don't use it any more, but it lives in my kitchen drawer and gives me inspiration :-)
Boy, those deer are pretty cheeky to come up on your porch - I have a feeling that after tonight's cold snap, my tomatoes will be gonners.
Enjoy your new goodies. T.
I have things from my family that are important to me as well, one I wear around my wrist. It's a bracelet made from a single gold nugget from the Yukon gold rush. My grandmother was a cook there and was given the nugget by the fellas she cooked for when they made their strike. They said she had brought them luck. The problem is that it doesn't come off and it sets off airport security alarms. p.s. The carrot juice goes *in* the soap.
How very pretty and that gave me an idea to blog on.
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Isn't it nice to have touches of heritage to kindle a sense of roots and remember those you love even after they have passed? I'm very happy that you have enhanced those feelings. You deserve it!
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