Fleamarket Treasure

As a child I spent many happy days at my Granny's house. I credit her for many good things in my life. She read aloud countless times poems and stories from her vintage Childcraft books, let me plunder her "treasures" from her and Papa's time in the Air Force, and many nights set up the slide projector so we could view images from my mother's childhood.

We pored over World Book encyclopedias (the full color picture of Queen Elizabeth's coronation portrait was my favorite!), she showed me her stamps, took me for walks in the woods and stopped the car by cow pastures so I could say hello to the cows.

Because of her, I know all about our geneaology, how to crochet and quilt, how to save, thrift, and give generously. I could go on and on about my wonderful Granny, but I think the one thing that set her apart was that she took time for me (and everyone). With my Granny there was no tyranny of the urgent, she never communicated by words or actions that anything else was more important than being with me. No matter when I dropped by or what I asked for, she was present and helpful. I hope I can communicate and live that way with my children and grandchildren.

When Granny passed away a few years ago, I was fortunate to inherit many "treasures" from her house: the Childcraft books, the everyday flatware pattern we shared, and various bric-a-brac.

One thing I always wanted, but didn't ask for (I mean, I had pretty much begged for every emotional piece there was by then) was her sewing box. Granny's sewing box was such a delight of order and wonder and mustard yellow seventies plastic! Mom has it now and her grandchildren enjoy their turn to plunder, but I confess my delight at finding the very same sewing box at a local flea market. Not quite very same--it's a lovely shade of blue--robin's egg meets turquoise--and confess I like it even more in this color!

The box--it has a funny texture all over it.

Oh, the wonder and delight of proper places for things. This is a vast improvement over a drawer with everything dumped in all higgeldy piggely.

The little pincushion family . . . wouldn't they make for a great children's story? They look like they are about to have tea or tuck in for the night.