Wool Gathering

At a glance, this looks like a modest little blanket chest, nothing remarkable or special about it.



For me, it’s a tangible piece of my childhood. It evokes memories of my idyllic upbringing in southeast Pennsylvania. I can visualize it in our home in Brookhaven. Small as it is, I actually fit inside that little box once upon a time. I climbed in to hide from my brother during a rare game of hide and seek. He was 11 years my senior so we didn’t play very often. Roughly 24 years ago, my father brought the toy box down on one of his annual visits. He brought it for our baby…...our baby who will be 25 years old this year. Where did all that time go?!

Now I have the privilege of passing the toy box on my son and wife for their little baby. The blanket on top was crocheted by my grandmother, Margaretta Wynyall Dalton Jackson, as a gift to our son when he was only 4 months old. It was meant to be given to him when we arrived for a much anticipated visit to PA but unfortunately, I fell seriously ill and the trip was canceled. Nana never did see her great grandchild as she passed away before we could get up there. She’d be thrilled to know that blanket was going to her great great grandchild.



Let’s see if I can get my crocheting skills up to par with Nana’s excellent stitchery. My stitches are just not as uniform but…winter is coming, so I will surely crochet more in the colder months. Practice, practice and more of the same.

This is my grandmother. Her photo sits near one of my grandfather, he's the soldier on the far left. His photo was taken during WW I.


There is so much family history I hope to record for this grandchild. Maybe they will love knowing about their roots... and maybe not. My Nana imparted so many stories about the family and gave me a great start with genealogical clues.

Growing up around old people is surely what caused such an interest in family history, roaming through graveyards (we were certainly there often enough) and the occasional predisposition to coin old fashioned phrases.

If only I had a dollar for the times my son would say, "Uh..mom...the 1860's called" and mock my use of tom foolery, ne'er do well, a stitch in my side and the like .....okaaay...I am back to the wool gathering now, aren't I?

So...anyway.......coming up I have book and movie talk as well as a contribution to this week's Donna Hay theme at I ♥ Cooking Club.

See ya later!


5 comments:

Velva said...

I cannot think of a greater gift to your grandchild. Beautiful.

Talking about family history, even if they do not appear interested at that time, tell enough stories and when they are, they will remember the stories you told.

Velva

~~louise~~ said...

I totally agree with Velva, Tina. Tell those stories every signle chance you get even if their is kicking and screaming going on and words like "How many time to we need to hear this story" just keep repeating yourself. (the only time it really is okay:)

What a beautiful post and what cherished gifts and memories you are able to pass along, Tina. I am so excited for you:)

Thank you so much for sharing...

P.S. Will you have time to join us for the Pasta Party?

Debbie said...

What a wonderful post!

Le laquet said...

Ah I have my great grandfather's sea-chest so I completely understand the joy of memories eh!!

Tina said...

Thank you all so much. Every once in awhile I remember this is my journal and don't even think about recipes. Funny how the blog evolved ...

Mrs. L, speaking of traditions and handing things down, we use your father's recipe for Yorkshire pudding whenever we make it, so it will always be remembered here!

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