Mug and Memories

My camera went missing so I cannot show what I have been working on this weekend. Instead, I thought I would share my mug love. These are two of my favorite coffee mugs; I have about five that I prefer to use. I do not know what it is about a special mug for coffee, perhaps it is my love of the stuff, which dictates that something so wonderful must be enjoyed in a certain way.

I love old sewing notions and this needle book always makes me smile. Who knew that stitching in a pretty red hat with your best gals = a Happy Home? It is defiantly the nostalgia of things from days gone by that attract my interest. I think it has a lot to do with my grandma, she passed away many years ago but I still choked up when I think of her. She had long grey hair that she always kept in a neat bun. She wore a housecoat,rubbers over her shoes in the rain, aprons while cooking and never did she leave to go anywhere without a thin scarf around her hair-do. She grew up without a car, without running water, electricity or indoor pluming. The excitement of the summer for her was when the thrashers came to the farm and the celebration after the harvest was complete. She quilted completely by hand and went to many quilting beesShe eventually got a treadle machine which I learned to sew on. Coffee was always on and a sweet treat was close at hand for me or anyone who dropped in (one of my greatest compliments was that I made coffee as good as grandmas). She wrote recipes compulsively and in the morning the local radio station gave out recipes that she would copy them on anything handy. I will have to scan some of these pieces of her to show one day. She always, always had a warm hug for me. I do not think I ever felt safer then in her arms. Oh how I love my grandma.

Alicia of rosylittlethings has posted many beautiful pictures of her afghan in progress. I do not have any idea how even to begin an afghan because I neither knit nor crochet. However, have considered it just to replicate an afghan that my grandma had that is similar to hers. The only difference is that grandma’s had black borders. I feel lucky to have had such wonderful grandparents be such an intrigual part of my growing up. I was only 14 when grandma died and grandpa died a year later.

Hopefully my camera will show itself at sometime, I feel so lost without it.