Me, Myself and Memories

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  Noreen 3:32 pm on December 17, 2018 Permalink
  Tags: Jake, Laura, Michael ( 11 )   

  What a Treasure 

  

  The UPS fellow dropped off a great delivery on Saturday. It was from my brother Michael’s daughter, Laura, and her husband, Jake.

   

  Michael had taken up Dad’s love of all things wood, complete with the sawmill on the farm. With the loss of Michael in November, 2018, the sawmill site became silent and perhaps not remain as such. On a visit since that time Laura and Jake had been back at the farm and revisited some of Michael’s haunts on the farm place. Picking up bits and pieces around the sawmill, Laura and Jake began hatching a plan.

  I grew up on the farm that Michael and JoAnn had made their home for 45 years. They knew that I would always refer to that as still my home, as from the age of five on this was “My home.” Michael and JoAnn allowed me that liberty.  Laura and Jake allowed me to have a piece of “My home” complete with all the character that Michael and the sawmill had created.  Looking at the clock I can almost hear and smell the saw blade cut through this piece of Black Walnut  leaving the markings for the life of what had been deemed discarded.  Not so!  This was and will always be special to me.

  This is why the trip to Mankato was essential to Dennis yesterday.  A shelf was in his wheel house for Michael’s clock to sit upon. He needed hardware brackets for a board he had found in our basement. I stayed out of the picture in total in regard to his staining of the wood to the point that he thought it was ready. This morning I had a chiropractor appointment as well as visiting the grocery store. The shelf project was Dennis’ in total, complete to where the clock and the shelf would be within our home.

  When I came home there was a bit of plaster on the floor and a few screws of various sizes on the kitchen counter.  The project had been completed.  Dennis admitted he was wore out.  My poor ole cowboy had worked far beyond his pay grade.  Multiple marks for screws on the board and also a few unused marks on the wall.  A trip to Fleet and Farm for the right screws and broken drill bit also was in his story.  Dennis’ first ever solo wood project and it was the frosting on the cake.

  A clock had been made with unconditional thought and love and a shelf put up out of inexperienced woodworking love for me.  I have said it before, life on Stauffer is sweet.  I am feeling pretty darn special.  The clock and Dennis are definitely treasures.

   
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  Noreen 2:44 pm on March 27, 2018 Permalink
  Tags: Carrie ( 12 ), Esther ( 2 ), Laura   

  Today I had to do it. The “Noel” quilted wall hanging needed to be retired. I could no longer convince myself it stood for “Noreen’s Office of Elegant Living.” I chose a wall hanging that my grandmother Laura had started in the early 1960s and I finished it several winters ago. Pink butterflies work in the spring season.

  As I dug through my stash of strings and yarn to use as a carrier after the wall hanging of the butterflies placket was strung onto a piece of decorative trim, much like a curtain rod . . . come on . . . you knew I would have such a stash, Esther Schafer came to mind.

  She was a mother-in-law second to none. She was a great cook and the Hector public school cafeteria could attest to that. She was their head cook for decades. She hand embroidered anything that would lie flat. Esther could crochet in her sleep and she was patient when she taught me while I was pregnant with Carrie. It was not unusual that the postman made frequent deliveries to her home from “LeeWards,” the catalog craft company. Skeins of yarn are milled leaving a tail of yarn hanging out of one end. That was to be the starter for the projects that would ensue. It would be rare if you could use the entire skein without a huge mess of tangled yarn spilling out all at once.

  Esther ordered a yarn winder. It clamped onto the edge of a table with a starter spindle and a hand crank. Once the spindle was started, one hand worked the crank and the other hand continued to feed the yarn out of the belly of the skein. With deft speed each skein would become this beautiful honeycomb looking creation of a flat bottomed cylindrical 4 oz. ball of yarn. How could I not think of Esther as I peered into my stash. Priceless.