Saturday, October 30, 2010

We each have a story...

Sometimes when I walk about my house, I almost hear these quiet voices- 
each telling me their story.

The jar of marbles from games played behind Maywood School...
me with my pixie haircut & steelie in hand.

The sparkly "Dream" sign we hung on the mirror from
Dave's parent's home when we first began work on the farm...
reminding us that we could.

The original screen door from this 1857 farm --
now living in honorable retirement in our dining room. 

The Weebok shoes that Ian wore when he took to walking at 9 months in
our home in Sun Prairie.  A little guy with places to go.

The Hall Autumn Wheat custard above -- a set my mom earned one at a time
when the Jewel Tea man came to sit at her kitchen table in Monona.

And the little pumpkin in the photograph -- from my childhood. 
 A little lantern we would set on the picture window each autumn.

My mom helped me & my sisters to cherish what we had
and to celebrate each season, each special event.
So, I celebrate her too, each day, when I walk through
my home...a place she only knew about in our dreams... 
When we talked about what our farm might look like with a curtain
in the barn windows and daisy necklaces on every cow.

Even though I sang her a last good bye on Halloween some years ago,
her stories still quietly call me. 
She liked this time of year -- and loved everything about Halloween.

Happy Halloween...


Artful Gathering said...

Kari, What a lovely post. Thanks for sharing it with your fellow bloggers.... Dawn

Diane said...

Oh Kari - just yesterday my husband was talking about how no one plays marbles anymore. We had just purchased a bag of marbles at an auction. He was reminiscing on those many school recesses spent shooting marbles, the steelies and his much loved (now lost) tri-colored cats eye marble.

Nan said...

What a wonderful way to pay tribute to your Mom by honoring all the treasures and memories of the past. Love all the photos of your kitties...

Kari from Meadowview Farm said...

I can still remember opening up the boxes of decorations my mom put away in the "store room" at Healy Lane -- and the excitement of getting everything out & ready.

Those memories we cherish are just so priceless. As I get older, I think they take on more meaning...and little orphaned items from other people's past call out to me to keep their memory alive too.


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