Down That Lane

Remember when girls had "Hope Chests"? A cedar chest given to the girl, in my family, on her sixteenth birthday. She was to fill it with linens and needle work and such, for the day all proper girls longed for.....that walk down the aisle. I highly doubt this tradition carried on beyond my generation, and I doubt it was as strong then as it had been in the generations before. Good riddance for the meaning behind the chest, but they are a handy thing to have for storage.

This belonged to my mother. After she died I brought it home. I have sentimentality for items passed down through generations, even one that was hers. It was given by the grandmother I loved. The interior is so pretty. I use it for blanket storage and as a furniture piece in the living room.

I took a quick photo of mine, disturbing Frieda's morning rest. I had French provincial furniture, which I still have, but I painted it years ago. Except for the chest. I never did fill it with the proper items, but the stuff of a teenage girl who'd never even had a boyfriend. Marriage was not on my mind. It makes a good platform for a cat bed. It seems so much has changed, and yet, when you look, not all that much. The pressure to move backward is no joke.

When my mother died in 2020 I brought boxes and boxes of things home to go through. I did some, but most were deposited in my office and left to gather dust. I still have her beautiful china packed in a box. These past several days I have been tackling that task. Lots of photos, her family were pathological about photographing their lives. I came across this school photo of me. Can we say 1960s look! I don't remember this photo, so I don't know how old I was for sure, but maybe around that sixteenth year? Can you dig those cat eye glasses!

I believe I was born with that look on my face. I see it in many childhood photos. Sort of a go-ahead-try-it-look. I could have been the murderer in a Perry Mason episode. My god, that was a long time ago. I don't even remember this me.

The work in my office is moving along, when I'm not finding items that send me back into memory to mull over. We are having more snow after the undramatic rain yesterday. I continue to feel much better, so I am hopeful it's not temporary. It would be wonderful to engage in living again. I may be able to drive to my next medical appointment myself. I haven't driven a car for three years. I couldn't walk very far, meaning I needed to be dropped at the door. I lost independence, something I never would have anticipated happening to me. I am doing my limited version of a happy dance.

Take care, dance if you feel the urge.