So many shoes…

 

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As our children get older, the quality time we get to spend with them seems to lessen.  It can be the same with our grandchildren as they make their way through school, college, and wrap themselves with independence. For me, well, I cherish any time we spend together.

My oldest Granddaughter, Emma, needed some of Gramma’s hairstylist expertise recently and I took her into the salon for some corrective color on her gorgeous hair.  Once I mixed and applied the appropriate formula, we sat and talked, catching up on life’s little tidbits and enjoyed being silly.  For some reason, shoes came into the conversation and I shared that I recently purchased sandals in a size 5, even though I am a consistent 6 ½.  The new sandals were made in Italy and I’m certain that the European design and cut of the shoes pretty much matched my normal size.   We had a great laugh over it until a serious look came over Emma’s face and she exclaimed, “Gramma, when you die, we’ll have to give all your shoes away, none of us are anywhere near your size!”

For a moment, I laughed with her and then thought back to a favorite song of mine, one that I’ve told my family to always remember me by; this song brought my Emma to tears some time ago.  Now that she’s an adult, way beyond her twenty-two years, there is a pragmatic air about her, a positive sense of direction focused on her future.

And my shoes.

 

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From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: Write about something someone said that put a smile on your face. 

Shoe collection aside, Emma’s comment made me think about the “stuff” we accumulate, meaningful to us and, of course, we always think that someone in the family tree will enjoy having things to remember our existence on this earth.  Of course, we hope that everything we once felt so special, and valuable, will be passed along to future generations.  Not some local Goodwill store.

 

 

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Authentically mine…

 

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Years ago, way back in 1965, there was a movie called “The Collector” (based on the John Fowles novel) and, for some reason, I thought about this while putting thoughts together for this post.  Actually, it was a pretty terrifying movie and the only reason it popped-up in my mental index file was because of its title and the things people accumulate.  Or try to.  For one of the characters involved in this movie, sadly, what was involved with her “collection” did not end well.

We all know that, in many ways, gathering groups of items can quickly move past collecting and lurch forward into some type of obsessive, almost hoarding, behavior.  This gave me much pause for personal reflection as I started writing, took a deep breath, and quickly determined that I truly am…just a collector.  In a good way.  At least I think so.

I’ll begin.

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Snowmen.  Up in our attic there are large storage bags full of snowmen.  You know those giant, plaid, zippered ones that you can purchase at the used to be Dollar Store?  Yup, thought so.  Well, they live here, approximately 30 or so of them, and tucked inside are hundreds of irresistible snowmen which have managed to find their way home with me during the holidays; tree ornaments, figurines, music boxes, cookie jars, dinnerware, linens…and more.  And, you can bet that, when others know of your passion about having certain things, it’s inevitable the gifts you receive will be in that category.   The nice part (which I always tell myself) is that this collection is large enough to be shared with all my grandchildren.  At some point, in the distant future.  Very distant, hopefully.

I’m not done, yet.

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Insulators.  I just love them.  Truly, I do.  In shades of green, assorted shapes and sizes.  You’ve never heard of them?  I suggest you give them a Google and learn about their history and collectability.  Pick up a few at a local antique shop or at a summer flea market, put one of those little LED tea lights under them on a table for a charming and fun display.  And, no.  I do not have bags of them stored away, just a reasonable amount scattered here and there or sitting on a window ledge.  Honestly, that’s it.

I’m still not done.

Kitchen cookbooks

Cookbooks.  My very first was Julia Child’s “From Julia Child’s Kitchen” and her wonderful cooking talent led me down a very long path of recipe exploration.  It’s been an exciting trip through page after page of cookbooks of all sizes, most with tantalizing illustrations of food prepared and plated to perfection.  All things Italian make up a significant part of my collection along with books from regional areas of our country.  Seafood, Game, Vegetables, Grilling and, of course, Desserts.  One book, called Dressing & Cooking Wild Game, by Teresa Marrone, came in handy when The Husband snagged his first deer…then turned it over to me for the final prep.  More than four hours later I managed to produce backstrap, tenderloin, brisket, ribs,  a roast and stew meat.  Hey, don’t judge.  That was painstakingly hard work for my first, and last, adventure as a pioneer woman. 

Now, I’m done.  Most likely, done.  I’m sure there will be something else to collect before I finish my trip around the sun.  I’ll move quickly…just in case.

 

workshop-button-1From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write about something you like to collect.  Seriously, I feel that a home tells a story, your story.  Everything inside tells others who we are, even who we’d like to be.  We represent ourselves through the things we own, and collect.  I don’t particularly like “fads” but enjoy collecting only what I connect with.  I choose to surround myself with who and what I care about and, as far as things, only those objects which have meaning.  At least to me.

 

 

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