Monday, November 29, 2004

MY JUNK ROOM (and why it never gets straightened)

All my upstairs rooms are pretty much neglected.  We live in the three rooms-and-a-bath downstairs.  When the grandchildren visit, they usually sleep on the hida-bed or the floor.  In winter, there's no heat upstairs.  On summer nights, it's the hottest place in the house.  But there's one room that's especially become a wasteland.  Cliff threatened once to back the pickup up near the house and start pitching stuff out the window of my "junkroom".  One of our more serious fusses in recent years was over that mess in my "junkroom".

I go up there sometimes with good intentions, thinking I'll put everything neatly into boxes and containers.  But to do that, I have to look at everything.  And I can't seem to get past one or two photo albums.  At this season of the year, it doesn't take much to evoke memories, so I'll find a treasure-trove of photos up there and bring them down so I can scan the cream of the crop.  By the time I've done this, I've spent two hours reminscing, and am completely out of the mood of bringing order to my junk room.

That's my mom and dad having breakfast in 1960.  Daddy had canned biscuits and jelly every morning of his life... his preference.  Notice the lack of shoes, a tradition which I have faithfully carried on.  If I'd had a digital camera back then, there'd be lots of pictures like this.  It seemed as though most old folks liked posed pictures, everyone standing orderly and even, with fake smiles on their faces.  I liked snapshots of everyday life.  I received a Kodak Brownie camera of my own one Christmas and managed to take some real-life pictures like this one.

I like this one of Grandma because I so loved going to her house.  I'd visit her for a week every summer.  I can close my eyes right now and imagine walking in that door, through the porch where her African violets thrived, and on into the kitchen, which smelled vaguely of kerosene from the kitchen range, which ran on "coaloil".  In my mind I can walk right over to the shelf to the left where she kept the Hi-Ho crackers, or to the right where a gallon jar held a never-ending supply of home-made sugar cookies. 

Tis the season for memories. 

10 comments:

csandhollow said...

Pat makes that threat too! But I know he won't do it because it is his junk!!!

cyandfayedavis said...

junkroom:  Try reading Flylady. net -- Some ideas helped me

Grandma:  My grandmother kept her homemade sugar cookies in a tin inside a pie safe in my day.  My father said she kept them in a cloth bag hanging on the back door knob when he was little.  Anyone leaving the house could take a cookie as they left.

cyandfayedavis said...

Absolutely loved both pictures.  But the one of Grandma was best!!!  The older the better for me.

jspiker said...

GREAT pictues! Thanks for sharing. I like those "real life shots also". They capture the essence of the moment. They say the right picture is worth a thousand words.
How true.....

lonamay said...

How wonderful you  have so many pictures mo to bring back warm memories.. i enjoy seeing them too... the junk room cleaning will wait!!!   Lona

bnanajm said...

Oh, I close my eyes and have those memories too...of a sunny kitchen, smelling of cupcakes or bread.  And a little blonde girl, standing on her tippy toes, trying to see what was going on, on the counter.  And getting my fingers slapped for getting into the butter and then the sugar.  

Hey, I'm still no dummy....

ksquester said...

Precious Memories, How they linger.....remember that song?   Great pictures! Anne

ryanagi said...

I love the breakfast photo! It almost looks like they are playing footsie under the table. LOL We all go bearfoot in our house too.

toonguykc said...

As long as you re-discover old photos and memories such as these....there is absolutely no reason at all to refer to this magical place as a "junk" room!!  

wildblueiris said...

There is just nothing like a Grandma, is there!  Thank you for the link to this entry, I smiled while reading it ;-)