It’s funny how the brain works. I mean our (my) memories are tucked so far back in our (my) brain that it sometimes takes a certain smell or voice, or maybe a picture to jog it forward. Or maybe all it takes is an old aluminum fold up table to awaken some wonderful memories.
As Monk says, “here’s what happened”:
I was out one weekend with my friend Ellen looking for some good stuff. We stumbled on an estate sale in one our favorite spots in Salem, the Fairmount Hills. Anyway the house of course was super cool. Chuck full of everything under the sun. Mostly things I couldn’t afford. The house by the way would be a house I would never and I mean never want to stay in – alone! Way too many rooms, windows, and too many levels. Ok, I’m getting a little sided tracked.
Anyway, the prices were a little high for me and we were getting ready to leave when I saw it! It was hiding under layers of fabric, patterns, and doll heads. Ooh Yeeks! It was one of the most beautiful tables I have ever seen. Well kinda…anyway that’s where the memories came flooding in. It was our family aluminum folding table! Well it really wasn’t ours, but it looked just like it!!
I got permission to clear the strange items off the top and take a look at it. It was, I have to admit a little on the beat up side, but I knew I could fix that! My memories of this table beat out any amount of dirt or dings it had. I carted the thing home. My weekend was complete. The table took priority the rest of the evening and into the next day. As I scrubbed and shined that little table, my wonderful husband, Gary, repaired a section with his amazing handyman talents, all while listening to my stories of my family and “our table” (Well, I think he was listening!??).
Because I grew up with a big family with lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins, we had lots of get together. Picnics for any occasion. Memories of turning the crank of the homemade ice cream maker, playing hide and seek in Granny’s big back yard, climbing the big walnut tree out front (It wasn’t that big when we grew up), and spying on our older cousins. The table was at every event. Always holding casseroles, potato salad, fried chicken, ice tea, and of course the big paddle of homemade ice cream! I can see it now on Granny and Granddad’s uneven big back yard. It was used for years and years.
This table will probably not be for sale, as I said in my last blog I become attached. Instead of coming with me to family picnics it will come with me to every market I attend, taking on its job of displaying dishes and what nots and what have yous.
I hope our family table is still up in my mom’s attic. One of these days, I must get up there.
My memories are only special to me. To write about the table is silly, but it’s the memories that are real and special and I treasure them. So when I’m out looking for the next find, I expect more memories will appear as I respectfully comb through someone else’s possessions. If an old table has that effect on me just think what a blanket or a pretty flowered dish, or a old wooden cane has on the person whose memory was awakened.
Foot note: I couldn’t find the pictures I was wanted to share, but I did find a couple that you might enjoy…
The famous table covered up with a 70’s table cloth. A picture of some of my family back in the day, and lastly my Granny’s bedroom window with her geranium’s blooming! That’s were I get my farm simplicity!
Foot note: I couldn’t find the pictures I was wanted to share, but I did find a couple that you might enjoy…
The famous table covered up with a 70’s table cloth. A picture of some of my family back in the day, and lastly my Granny’s bedroom window with her geranium’s blooming! That’s were I get my farm simplicity!
As Monk says, “here’s what happened”:
I was out one weekend with my friend Ellen looking for some good stuff. We stumbled on an estate sale in one our favorite spots in Salem, the Fairmount Hills. Anyway the house of course was super cool. Chuck full of everything under the sun. Mostly things I couldn’t afford. The house by the way would be a house I would never and I mean never want to stay in – alone! Way too many rooms, windows, and too many levels. Ok, I’m getting a little sided tracked.
Anyway, the prices were a little high for me and we were getting ready to leave when I saw it! It was hiding under layers of fabric, patterns, and doll heads. Ooh Yeeks! It was one of the most beautiful tables I have ever seen. Well kinda…anyway that’s where the memories came flooding in. It was our family aluminum folding table! Well it really wasn’t ours, but it looked just like it!!
I got permission to clear the strange items off the top and take a look at it. It was, I have to admit a little on the beat up side, but I knew I could fix that! My memories of this table beat out any amount of dirt or dings it had. I carted the thing home. My weekend was complete. The table took priority the rest of the evening and into the next day. As I scrubbed and shined that little table, my wonderful husband, Gary, repaired a section with his amazing handyman talents, all while listening to my stories of my family and “our table” (Well, I think he was listening!??).
Because I grew up with a big family with lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins, we had lots of get together. Picnics for any occasion. Memories of turning the crank of the homemade ice cream maker, playing hide and seek in Granny’s big back yard, climbing the big walnut tree out front (It wasn’t that big when we grew up), and spying on our older cousins. The table was at every event. Always holding casseroles, potato salad, fried chicken, ice tea, and of course the big paddle of homemade ice cream! I can see it now on Granny and Granddad’s uneven big back yard. It was used for years and years.
This table will probably not be for sale, as I said in my last blog I become attached. Instead of coming with me to family picnics it will come with me to every market I attend, taking on its job of displaying dishes and what nots and what have yous.
I hope our family table is still up in my mom’s attic. One of these days, I must get up there.
My memories are only special to me. To write about the table is silly, but it’s the memories that are real and special and I treasure them. So when I’m out looking for the next find, I expect more memories will appear as I respectfully comb through someone else’s possessions. If an old table has that effect on me just think what a blanket or a pretty flowered dish, or a old wooden cane has on the person whose memory was awakened.
Foot note: I couldn’t find the pictures I was wanted to share, but I did find a couple that you might enjoy…
The famous table covered up with a 70’s table cloth. A picture of some of my family back in the day, and lastly my Granny’s bedroom window with her geranium’s blooming! That’s were I get my farm simplicity!
Foot note: I couldn’t find the pictures I was wanted to share, but I did find a couple that you might enjoy…
The famous table covered up with a 70’s table cloth. A picture of some of my family back in the day, and lastly my Granny’s bedroom window with her geranium’s blooming! That’s were I get my farm simplicity!