Life, uncorked.
Sometimes when I’m all alone in the house…and there are no cell phones dinging with text messages. No video games raging in the background. No slamming front door. No clambering up and down the stairs. No boy noise at all…
It is all just so still and quiet.
Sometimes I miss it so deeply that it takes my breath away. I’m just sayin’.
Can I get a hug? Do any of you feel the same way sometimes?
Okay, my internet is so wonky. Slow. Crashing. So we’ll see how this goes. Anyway…it’s Monday. I spent the weekend working of photo biz paperwork and playing with photos. SuperGuy brought me flowers. He knows I’m just a tad addicted to taking photos of them these days. See?
Anyway, I’ve also been thinking of you who have your first college bound kiddos leaving in the next days. Like my sister, and Mental Mama. Anyone else sending off your first? Let us know! Good luck with that! It’s so neat to see your kids start to launch themselves into the world…but it’s hard at first. It’s hard to look in the mirror and believe that you’re old enough to have a child going to college, isn’t it? (can I tell you it DOES get easier after the 5th child heads to college…) :wallbash:
In other news, I’m sure a lot of you know that Mary at Dear Little Red House hosts Mosaic Monday on her blog. Hop on over and see some of the beautiful collages if you’ve never seen them. I put up my mosaic over on my photography blog. (it’s wider columns, so mosaics show up nicer over there!) Pretty Purple Petals.
When we recall the past, we usually find that it is the simplest things – not the great occasions – that in retrospect give off the greatest glow of happiness. ~Bob Hope
These were my grandfather’s keys. They have always fascinated me. I’m sure you’ve seen them in other photos I’ve taken for the blog. I love these keys. Now, it wouldn’t have taken a MacGyver to pick the locks that they keys went to, I’m sure. I’m not even sure why he had all these keys. My grandparents lived in a small, small Iowa town. I’m pretty sure they never locked a door a day in their lives…
Nonetheless, these hold a connection to my past. They were hanging on a peg in the old wooden cabinet. I would take them out and play with them when I went to visit my grandparents. They intrigued me, so unlike the “big city” keys we used. I’m not sure why I kept them. Why I chose them out of all of the possessions my grandparents had. I now keep them in the drawer by my computer. I take them out and mindlessly finger them when I’m thinking. I love the rusty ones, the ones that are still shiny and polished from use. I run my fingers over the rough ones, the smooth ones. I wonder what they opened? A house long gone? A cabinet sitting in an old barn now? Why DID he have all these keys?
Just looking at them makes me smile. Takes me back to days long since tucked deep in my memories. Homemade ice cream, shuffle board, croquet on the lawn with wooden balls with most of the color worn off of them. The smack of those wooden croquet balls as someone would send mine flying across the yard. Quiet nights sitting on their front porch. Lazy Sunday afternoons after going to their small town church and coming home to a big midday meal. The street lamp light filtering through the huge tree at the end of their drive. Mainstreet lined in bricks. Fireflies.
Do you have something like that? Something you treasure that is guaranteed to bring those memories sliding back to the present? Memories that you allow yourself to luxuriate in for just a few moments, before allowing them to slip back into the recesses of your mind? What are your “grandfather’s keys”?
Click on the Photo to go to my Fine Art site
