Family Heirlooms

Anne here, racing in with a bit of a hasty post — sorry, but I'm staring down the barrel of a deadline and can think of nothing but the book. So I looked around me for inspiration and spotted a gift I recently received from a friend of mine's mother who makes the most beautiful quilts. That's it below — she knows I like bright colors, and asymmetrical designs and I love this quilt to bits. 
1HelenQuilt

So today I'm talking about home-made heirlooms, keepsakes and family treasures, not necessarily valuable to anyone except ourselves, and often with a story attached. I'll start with a few of my own, and I hope you'll come in and share your own stories.

I have an Italian silk bedspread that was my great grandmother's guilty secret. She was of hardy pioneer stock, and spent weeks, often months on her own with her kids on the family farm in what we in Australia call "the bush" which really means the middle of nowhere, miles from anyone else. I don't know what her husband was doing — droving cattle maybe, or shearing sheep, or doing some other kind of work to help make ends meet, because this was the depression.

In those days the people of the outback rarely got to see a shop, or even travel to a town very often, but traders travelled through regularly, bringing their goods by camel; all kinds of things, practical good, but also pretty and frivolous things to tempt the hearts of the deprived outback women.

NanaSilkBedsprdThe story goes that one day this trader came by and Nana fell instantly in love — not with the man, but with an Italian silk bedspread he was carrying. Of course, she couldn't afford it, so off he went, and she tried not to think of the bedspread again. Until he came back another time, and showed her the bedspread again. It was very expensive, but this time not quite as expensive — the price was lower, because times were hard and nobody could afford it. It took three visits, months apart before Nana finally succumbed and bought the bedspread, using every penny she'd put aside from her egg and honey money. The story also goes that it was months before she confessed the extravagant purchase to her husband. He, of course, forgave her.

That's it in the picture above, a little faded and worn, and I probably should have ironed it before taking the photo. It might not even be silk, or Italian for all we know — those traders were pretty nifty salesmen— but it's a family treasure, nevertheless, because of the story. From all accounts Nana was a tough, no-nonsense kind of woman, and I love it that she had a secret craving for a little luxury and beauty in the hard life she led — and succumbed to it. And then hid it from her husband.

My mother took up patchwork late in life — she was a full time teacher all my life, and had no time for crafts until she retired. Then it was knitted throw rugs and patchwork quilts in all directions — every bed in the house was spread with patchwork designs and half-finished pieces. She made some beauties, but my favorite is the one where I can identify so many of the patches as coming from clothes my sisters and I once wore. The small hexagons of color recall all kinds of small milestones in our lives.

MumKnitRugShe was a great recycler my mum — and I do recall my very mixed feelings when she presented me with this knitted throw rug. It was lovely — even the plain-looking squares are beautifully textured with knitted patterning — but see that pretty claret wool that is the foundation of the color scheme? It was once my favorite jumper (pullover /sweater) but one day it mysteriously disappeared. Thanks, Mum, mystery solved.

I have piles of beautiful things made by my female forebears — beautifully embroidered tablecloths, tray cloths and placemats, delicate hankies with dainty crocheted edges, but me? Nothing. I enjoy making things but I'm. . . slapdash. Too impatient to do the intricate or time-consuming stuff. 

MycrochetrugAnd I was never a knitter — it seemed to take forever, but I taught myself to crochet and made this rug when I was fifteen. We'd just moved to the city and I traveled by train and tram to school, so it was very easy to just pull out my wool and hook and work on one little square at a time. That's it, my sole crafty contribution to posterity. 

So what about you — do you have any family pieces with a story attached? Do you make things that you hope your descendants will treasure, or are you not the crafty type? Have you ever lashed out and bought something you couldn't really afford, just because it was beautiful? I'd love you to share your stories.

95 thoughts on “Family Heirlooms”

  1. What a wonderful post, Anne! I love that your tough, practical great grandmother indulged herself with a beautiful item to brighten a hard life–and it’s good that her husband forgave her! I also love that the traders came by camel. *G*
    I’ve put itinerant traders in a couple of my books (a New England book peddlere in Angel Rogue, a French peddler of ribbons and bits and bobs in No Longer a Gentleman.) Think about if your only access to books was once a year when the book peddler came around! And maybe you’d sell him last year’s book so you could afford to buy a new book this year.
    My family isn’t particularly handy, so no beautiful handmade treasures. But my maternal grandmother lived in China and did a small export business sending Chinese brasses and jewelry and to friends back the in the States. Some of those reside with me still.
    And yes, I’ve occasionally indulged in something beautiful and unnecessary simply because we all need beauty in our lives. A toast to your great grandmother, a tut-tut to your mum for cannibalizing your favorite sweater (which happens to be my favorite color, too.) But now you can enjoy the pieces of it forever.

    Reply
  2. What a wonderful post, Anne! I love that your tough, practical great grandmother indulged herself with a beautiful item to brighten a hard life–and it’s good that her husband forgave her! I also love that the traders came by camel. *G*
    I’ve put itinerant traders in a couple of my books (a New England book peddlere in Angel Rogue, a French peddler of ribbons and bits and bobs in No Longer a Gentleman.) Think about if your only access to books was once a year when the book peddler came around! And maybe you’d sell him last year’s book so you could afford to buy a new book this year.
    My family isn’t particularly handy, so no beautiful handmade treasures. But my maternal grandmother lived in China and did a small export business sending Chinese brasses and jewelry and to friends back the in the States. Some of those reside with me still.
    And yes, I’ve occasionally indulged in something beautiful and unnecessary simply because we all need beauty in our lives. A toast to your great grandmother, a tut-tut to your mum for cannibalizing your favorite sweater (which happens to be my favorite color, too.) But now you can enjoy the pieces of it forever.

    Reply
  3. What a wonderful post, Anne! I love that your tough, practical great grandmother indulged herself with a beautiful item to brighten a hard life–and it’s good that her husband forgave her! I also love that the traders came by camel. *G*
    I’ve put itinerant traders in a couple of my books (a New England book peddlere in Angel Rogue, a French peddler of ribbons and bits and bobs in No Longer a Gentleman.) Think about if your only access to books was once a year when the book peddler came around! And maybe you’d sell him last year’s book so you could afford to buy a new book this year.
    My family isn’t particularly handy, so no beautiful handmade treasures. But my maternal grandmother lived in China and did a small export business sending Chinese brasses and jewelry and to friends back the in the States. Some of those reside with me still.
    And yes, I’ve occasionally indulged in something beautiful and unnecessary simply because we all need beauty in our lives. A toast to your great grandmother, a tut-tut to your mum for cannibalizing your favorite sweater (which happens to be my favorite color, too.) But now you can enjoy the pieces of it forever.

    Reply
  4. What a wonderful post, Anne! I love that your tough, practical great grandmother indulged herself with a beautiful item to brighten a hard life–and it’s good that her husband forgave her! I also love that the traders came by camel. *G*
    I’ve put itinerant traders in a couple of my books (a New England book peddlere in Angel Rogue, a French peddler of ribbons and bits and bobs in No Longer a Gentleman.) Think about if your only access to books was once a year when the book peddler came around! And maybe you’d sell him last year’s book so you could afford to buy a new book this year.
    My family isn’t particularly handy, so no beautiful handmade treasures. But my maternal grandmother lived in China and did a small export business sending Chinese brasses and jewelry and to friends back the in the States. Some of those reside with me still.
    And yes, I’ve occasionally indulged in something beautiful and unnecessary simply because we all need beauty in our lives. A toast to your great grandmother, a tut-tut to your mum for cannibalizing your favorite sweater (which happens to be my favorite color, too.) But now you can enjoy the pieces of it forever.

    Reply
  5. What a wonderful post, Anne! I love that your tough, practical great grandmother indulged herself with a beautiful item to brighten a hard life–and it’s good that her husband forgave her! I also love that the traders came by camel. *G*
    I’ve put itinerant traders in a couple of my books (a New England book peddlere in Angel Rogue, a French peddler of ribbons and bits and bobs in No Longer a Gentleman.) Think about if your only access to books was once a year when the book peddler came around! And maybe you’d sell him last year’s book so you could afford to buy a new book this year.
    My family isn’t particularly handy, so no beautiful handmade treasures. But my maternal grandmother lived in China and did a small export business sending Chinese brasses and jewelry and to friends back the in the States. Some of those reside with me still.
    And yes, I’ve occasionally indulged in something beautiful and unnecessary simply because we all need beauty in our lives. A toast to your great grandmother, a tut-tut to your mum for cannibalizing your favorite sweater (which happens to be my favorite color, too.) But now you can enjoy the pieces of it forever.

    Reply
  6. Nice post. I have some cooking pots that belong to both my and my husband’s grandmothers. They are made of a special alloy in India and were used to cook in a wood-burning fire. Since they are sturdy and not useful in the modern kitchen I have them just for display. But still looking at them and imagining the wonderful food that came out of them gives me a direct connection to them.

    Reply
  7. Nice post. I have some cooking pots that belong to both my and my husband’s grandmothers. They are made of a special alloy in India and were used to cook in a wood-burning fire. Since they are sturdy and not useful in the modern kitchen I have them just for display. But still looking at them and imagining the wonderful food that came out of them gives me a direct connection to them.

    Reply
  8. Nice post. I have some cooking pots that belong to both my and my husband’s grandmothers. They are made of a special alloy in India and were used to cook in a wood-burning fire. Since they are sturdy and not useful in the modern kitchen I have them just for display. But still looking at them and imagining the wonderful food that came out of them gives me a direct connection to them.

    Reply
  9. Nice post. I have some cooking pots that belong to both my and my husband’s grandmothers. They are made of a special alloy in India and were used to cook in a wood-burning fire. Since they are sturdy and not useful in the modern kitchen I have them just for display. But still looking at them and imagining the wonderful food that came out of them gives me a direct connection to them.

    Reply
  10. Nice post. I have some cooking pots that belong to both my and my husband’s grandmothers. They are made of a special alloy in India and were used to cook in a wood-burning fire. Since they are sturdy and not useful in the modern kitchen I have them just for display. But still looking at them and imagining the wonderful food that came out of them gives me a direct connection to them.

    Reply
  11. I love the story of the Italian silk bedspread! That’s the kind of story that makes an heirloom.
    My great aunt worked as a seamstress and drapery maker all of her adult life. She designed and made window treatments for so many of the officers who passed through the Air College at Maxwell Air Force Base. And even after they transferred to other posts they would send her photos of the room and window measurements for her to design their window treatments and drapes.
    She is the one who taught me how to sew, quilt, tat, cross stitch and net darn.
    One of my prized possessions is the tatted bedspread she made. It is an absolutely gorgeous made in one piece lace bedspread. It adorned her bed for years and I inherited when she passed away at the age of 93. Rather than use it as a bedspread I have it as a canopy on the bed in my room in my Mom’s house.
    She also made and dressed porcelain dolls. I inherited two of those and they sit in the antique rocking chair I inherited from her.

    Reply
  12. I love the story of the Italian silk bedspread! That’s the kind of story that makes an heirloom.
    My great aunt worked as a seamstress and drapery maker all of her adult life. She designed and made window treatments for so many of the officers who passed through the Air College at Maxwell Air Force Base. And even after they transferred to other posts they would send her photos of the room and window measurements for her to design their window treatments and drapes.
    She is the one who taught me how to sew, quilt, tat, cross stitch and net darn.
    One of my prized possessions is the tatted bedspread she made. It is an absolutely gorgeous made in one piece lace bedspread. It adorned her bed for years and I inherited when she passed away at the age of 93. Rather than use it as a bedspread I have it as a canopy on the bed in my room in my Mom’s house.
    She also made and dressed porcelain dolls. I inherited two of those and they sit in the antique rocking chair I inherited from her.

    Reply
  13. I love the story of the Italian silk bedspread! That’s the kind of story that makes an heirloom.
    My great aunt worked as a seamstress and drapery maker all of her adult life. She designed and made window treatments for so many of the officers who passed through the Air College at Maxwell Air Force Base. And even after they transferred to other posts they would send her photos of the room and window measurements for her to design their window treatments and drapes.
    She is the one who taught me how to sew, quilt, tat, cross stitch and net darn.
    One of my prized possessions is the tatted bedspread she made. It is an absolutely gorgeous made in one piece lace bedspread. It adorned her bed for years and I inherited when she passed away at the age of 93. Rather than use it as a bedspread I have it as a canopy on the bed in my room in my Mom’s house.
    She also made and dressed porcelain dolls. I inherited two of those and they sit in the antique rocking chair I inherited from her.

    Reply
  14. I love the story of the Italian silk bedspread! That’s the kind of story that makes an heirloom.
    My great aunt worked as a seamstress and drapery maker all of her adult life. She designed and made window treatments for so many of the officers who passed through the Air College at Maxwell Air Force Base. And even after they transferred to other posts they would send her photos of the room and window measurements for her to design their window treatments and drapes.
    She is the one who taught me how to sew, quilt, tat, cross stitch and net darn.
    One of my prized possessions is the tatted bedspread she made. It is an absolutely gorgeous made in one piece lace bedspread. It adorned her bed for years and I inherited when she passed away at the age of 93. Rather than use it as a bedspread I have it as a canopy on the bed in my room in my Mom’s house.
    She also made and dressed porcelain dolls. I inherited two of those and they sit in the antique rocking chair I inherited from her.

    Reply
  15. I love the story of the Italian silk bedspread! That’s the kind of story that makes an heirloom.
    My great aunt worked as a seamstress and drapery maker all of her adult life. She designed and made window treatments for so many of the officers who passed through the Air College at Maxwell Air Force Base. And even after they transferred to other posts they would send her photos of the room and window measurements for her to design their window treatments and drapes.
    She is the one who taught me how to sew, quilt, tat, cross stitch and net darn.
    One of my prized possessions is the tatted bedspread she made. It is an absolutely gorgeous made in one piece lace bedspread. It adorned her bed for years and I inherited when she passed away at the age of 93. Rather than use it as a bedspread I have it as a canopy on the bed in my room in my Mom’s house.
    She also made and dressed porcelain dolls. I inherited two of those and they sit in the antique rocking chair I inherited from her.

    Reply
  16. I have some linens hand-embroidered by my mom in the horrible colors of the 1970s – gold, avocado green and muddy brown. She did a lovely job, working from a kit; there is a large tablecloth and half a dozen matching napkins. Like your mom, Anne, she was really good at making things with her hands; my brothers had hand made rag rugs in their bedrooms, done using material from old clothes, twisted, braided and sewn up by hand.
    These linens have never been out of the box in which she gave them to me. They are meant for entertaining, with nice china, crystal and silver (some of which she also passed on to me). I’ve never “entertained” in my life — not that way. My idea of entertaining was always a friend or two over for dinner, and we use the casual daily stuff, no fuss, so everyone will feel comfortable. We drink coffee from a mug or diet coke from the can; we don’t sip water from crystal goblets. We don’t eat dessert from lovely gilt pudding dishes with stems; we don’t eat dessert at all, actually. Nobody wants the extra calories.
    I look at the box with the linens in it sometimes. I have no one to pass them on to because today everyone I know is even more casual than I am, and there’s no one left who knew her well except one nephew, and guys mostly aren’t into such things. And anyway the colors would now be considered all wrong.
    They are a symbol of a mother’s dream for her daughter – the way things are supposed to be – that she’d have a nice life, with a nice house, a nice husband, nice children, nice things and nice friends to entertain. What she would have wanted for herself that life didn’t give her much of.
    So I keep them for her sake. Even dead dreams count for something. Even somebody else’s dead dreams that were not what you dreamed of or had in your life yourself.

    Reply
  17. I have some linens hand-embroidered by my mom in the horrible colors of the 1970s – gold, avocado green and muddy brown. She did a lovely job, working from a kit; there is a large tablecloth and half a dozen matching napkins. Like your mom, Anne, she was really good at making things with her hands; my brothers had hand made rag rugs in their bedrooms, done using material from old clothes, twisted, braided and sewn up by hand.
    These linens have never been out of the box in which she gave them to me. They are meant for entertaining, with nice china, crystal and silver (some of which she also passed on to me). I’ve never “entertained” in my life — not that way. My idea of entertaining was always a friend or two over for dinner, and we use the casual daily stuff, no fuss, so everyone will feel comfortable. We drink coffee from a mug or diet coke from the can; we don’t sip water from crystal goblets. We don’t eat dessert from lovely gilt pudding dishes with stems; we don’t eat dessert at all, actually. Nobody wants the extra calories.
    I look at the box with the linens in it sometimes. I have no one to pass them on to because today everyone I know is even more casual than I am, and there’s no one left who knew her well except one nephew, and guys mostly aren’t into such things. And anyway the colors would now be considered all wrong.
    They are a symbol of a mother’s dream for her daughter – the way things are supposed to be – that she’d have a nice life, with a nice house, a nice husband, nice children, nice things and nice friends to entertain. What she would have wanted for herself that life didn’t give her much of.
    So I keep them for her sake. Even dead dreams count for something. Even somebody else’s dead dreams that were not what you dreamed of or had in your life yourself.

    Reply
  18. I have some linens hand-embroidered by my mom in the horrible colors of the 1970s – gold, avocado green and muddy brown. She did a lovely job, working from a kit; there is a large tablecloth and half a dozen matching napkins. Like your mom, Anne, she was really good at making things with her hands; my brothers had hand made rag rugs in their bedrooms, done using material from old clothes, twisted, braided and sewn up by hand.
    These linens have never been out of the box in which she gave them to me. They are meant for entertaining, with nice china, crystal and silver (some of which she also passed on to me). I’ve never “entertained” in my life — not that way. My idea of entertaining was always a friend or two over for dinner, and we use the casual daily stuff, no fuss, so everyone will feel comfortable. We drink coffee from a mug or diet coke from the can; we don’t sip water from crystal goblets. We don’t eat dessert from lovely gilt pudding dishes with stems; we don’t eat dessert at all, actually. Nobody wants the extra calories.
    I look at the box with the linens in it sometimes. I have no one to pass them on to because today everyone I know is even more casual than I am, and there’s no one left who knew her well except one nephew, and guys mostly aren’t into such things. And anyway the colors would now be considered all wrong.
    They are a symbol of a mother’s dream for her daughter – the way things are supposed to be – that she’d have a nice life, with a nice house, a nice husband, nice children, nice things and nice friends to entertain. What she would have wanted for herself that life didn’t give her much of.
    So I keep them for her sake. Even dead dreams count for something. Even somebody else’s dead dreams that were not what you dreamed of or had in your life yourself.

    Reply
  19. I have some linens hand-embroidered by my mom in the horrible colors of the 1970s – gold, avocado green and muddy brown. She did a lovely job, working from a kit; there is a large tablecloth and half a dozen matching napkins. Like your mom, Anne, she was really good at making things with her hands; my brothers had hand made rag rugs in their bedrooms, done using material from old clothes, twisted, braided and sewn up by hand.
    These linens have never been out of the box in which she gave them to me. They are meant for entertaining, with nice china, crystal and silver (some of which she also passed on to me). I’ve never “entertained” in my life — not that way. My idea of entertaining was always a friend or two over for dinner, and we use the casual daily stuff, no fuss, so everyone will feel comfortable. We drink coffee from a mug or diet coke from the can; we don’t sip water from crystal goblets. We don’t eat dessert from lovely gilt pudding dishes with stems; we don’t eat dessert at all, actually. Nobody wants the extra calories.
    I look at the box with the linens in it sometimes. I have no one to pass them on to because today everyone I know is even more casual than I am, and there’s no one left who knew her well except one nephew, and guys mostly aren’t into such things. And anyway the colors would now be considered all wrong.
    They are a symbol of a mother’s dream for her daughter – the way things are supposed to be – that she’d have a nice life, with a nice house, a nice husband, nice children, nice things and nice friends to entertain. What she would have wanted for herself that life didn’t give her much of.
    So I keep them for her sake. Even dead dreams count for something. Even somebody else’s dead dreams that were not what you dreamed of or had in your life yourself.

    Reply
  20. I have some linens hand-embroidered by my mom in the horrible colors of the 1970s – gold, avocado green and muddy brown. She did a lovely job, working from a kit; there is a large tablecloth and half a dozen matching napkins. Like your mom, Anne, she was really good at making things with her hands; my brothers had hand made rag rugs in their bedrooms, done using material from old clothes, twisted, braided and sewn up by hand.
    These linens have never been out of the box in which she gave them to me. They are meant for entertaining, with nice china, crystal and silver (some of which she also passed on to me). I’ve never “entertained” in my life — not that way. My idea of entertaining was always a friend or two over for dinner, and we use the casual daily stuff, no fuss, so everyone will feel comfortable. We drink coffee from a mug or diet coke from the can; we don’t sip water from crystal goblets. We don’t eat dessert from lovely gilt pudding dishes with stems; we don’t eat dessert at all, actually. Nobody wants the extra calories.
    I look at the box with the linens in it sometimes. I have no one to pass them on to because today everyone I know is even more casual than I am, and there’s no one left who knew her well except one nephew, and guys mostly aren’t into such things. And anyway the colors would now be considered all wrong.
    They are a symbol of a mother’s dream for her daughter – the way things are supposed to be – that she’d have a nice life, with a nice house, a nice husband, nice children, nice things and nice friends to entertain. What she would have wanted for herself that life didn’t give her much of.
    So I keep them for her sake. Even dead dreams count for something. Even somebody else’s dead dreams that were not what you dreamed of or had in your life yourself.

    Reply
  21. I don’t care if it’s silk or Italian, that bedspread is wonderful and good on your great-gram for indulging.
    I have a couple of tablecloths, huge ones, that are tatted around the edges, one that is all embroidered, all done by grandmothers and great grandmothers. Linens with handmade lace trim, hankies that are decorated…mostly fabrics heirlooms. And I’ve made a few quilts I’ve given to friends and family. I don’t know that mine will ever be cherished enough to last a few generations, but I would hope so. 🙂

    Reply
  22. I don’t care if it’s silk or Italian, that bedspread is wonderful and good on your great-gram for indulging.
    I have a couple of tablecloths, huge ones, that are tatted around the edges, one that is all embroidered, all done by grandmothers and great grandmothers. Linens with handmade lace trim, hankies that are decorated…mostly fabrics heirlooms. And I’ve made a few quilts I’ve given to friends and family. I don’t know that mine will ever be cherished enough to last a few generations, but I would hope so. 🙂

    Reply
  23. I don’t care if it’s silk or Italian, that bedspread is wonderful and good on your great-gram for indulging.
    I have a couple of tablecloths, huge ones, that are tatted around the edges, one that is all embroidered, all done by grandmothers and great grandmothers. Linens with handmade lace trim, hankies that are decorated…mostly fabrics heirlooms. And I’ve made a few quilts I’ve given to friends and family. I don’t know that mine will ever be cherished enough to last a few generations, but I would hope so. 🙂

    Reply
  24. I don’t care if it’s silk or Italian, that bedspread is wonderful and good on your great-gram for indulging.
    I have a couple of tablecloths, huge ones, that are tatted around the edges, one that is all embroidered, all done by grandmothers and great grandmothers. Linens with handmade lace trim, hankies that are decorated…mostly fabrics heirlooms. And I’ve made a few quilts I’ve given to friends and family. I don’t know that mine will ever be cherished enough to last a few generations, but I would hope so. 🙂

    Reply
  25. I don’t care if it’s silk or Italian, that bedspread is wonderful and good on your great-gram for indulging.
    I have a couple of tablecloths, huge ones, that are tatted around the edges, one that is all embroidered, all done by grandmothers and great grandmothers. Linens with handmade lace trim, hankies that are decorated…mostly fabrics heirlooms. And I’ve made a few quilts I’ve given to friends and family. I don’t know that mine will ever be cherished enough to last a few generations, but I would hope so. 🙂

    Reply
  26. Mary Jo, many of those early traders were Afghans, and they helped “open up” the outback – in fact there is a famous train called The Ghan that goes from Adelaide in South Australia, north up to Alice Springs, and it’s called The Ghan because it follows the old Afghan camel route. The camels were perfect, because so much of the interior of Australia is desert and dry.
    I don’t know that fiction books would have been much traded — reading, my dear, is just another word for laziness! *g* I was always getting into trouble from grandmothers for reading.
    And like your grandmother, my parents brought home many beautiful things from when they lived in Malaysia, and I have some treasured mementos from Greece, too.

    Reply
  27. Mary Jo, many of those early traders were Afghans, and they helped “open up” the outback – in fact there is a famous train called The Ghan that goes from Adelaide in South Australia, north up to Alice Springs, and it’s called The Ghan because it follows the old Afghan camel route. The camels were perfect, because so much of the interior of Australia is desert and dry.
    I don’t know that fiction books would have been much traded — reading, my dear, is just another word for laziness! *g* I was always getting into trouble from grandmothers for reading.
    And like your grandmother, my parents brought home many beautiful things from when they lived in Malaysia, and I have some treasured mementos from Greece, too.

    Reply
  28. Mary Jo, many of those early traders were Afghans, and they helped “open up” the outback – in fact there is a famous train called The Ghan that goes from Adelaide in South Australia, north up to Alice Springs, and it’s called The Ghan because it follows the old Afghan camel route. The camels were perfect, because so much of the interior of Australia is desert and dry.
    I don’t know that fiction books would have been much traded — reading, my dear, is just another word for laziness! *g* I was always getting into trouble from grandmothers for reading.
    And like your grandmother, my parents brought home many beautiful things from when they lived in Malaysia, and I have some treasured mementos from Greece, too.

    Reply
  29. Mary Jo, many of those early traders were Afghans, and they helped “open up” the outback – in fact there is a famous train called The Ghan that goes from Adelaide in South Australia, north up to Alice Springs, and it’s called The Ghan because it follows the old Afghan camel route. The camels were perfect, because so much of the interior of Australia is desert and dry.
    I don’t know that fiction books would have been much traded — reading, my dear, is just another word for laziness! *g* I was always getting into trouble from grandmothers for reading.
    And like your grandmother, my parents brought home many beautiful things from when they lived in Malaysia, and I have some treasured mementos from Greece, too.

    Reply
  30. Mary Jo, many of those early traders were Afghans, and they helped “open up” the outback – in fact there is a famous train called The Ghan that goes from Adelaide in South Australia, north up to Alice Springs, and it’s called The Ghan because it follows the old Afghan camel route. The camels were perfect, because so much of the interior of Australia is desert and dry.
    I don’t know that fiction books would have been much traded — reading, my dear, is just another word for laziness! *g* I was always getting into trouble from grandmothers for reading.
    And like your grandmother, my parents brought home many beautiful things from when they lived in Malaysia, and I have some treasured mementos from Greece, too.

    Reply
  31. PV, how lovely that you have those pots to remind you of your heritage — I bet they’re beautiful, too in the way that good design always is. I have a lovely tin-lined copper pot from Greece that was used as a kettle. For me now, it’s an ornament and a reminder of my happy times there.
    Louisa, sounds like your great-aunt was very artistic — a forerunner to the interior decorators of today, only maybe more practical. *g*
    I always admired tatting, but I never learned how to do it. I can’t imagine tatting a whole bedspread. It’s lovely that you have it as a reminder. And those porcelain dolls also sound stunning.

    Reply
  32. PV, how lovely that you have those pots to remind you of your heritage — I bet they’re beautiful, too in the way that good design always is. I have a lovely tin-lined copper pot from Greece that was used as a kettle. For me now, it’s an ornament and a reminder of my happy times there.
    Louisa, sounds like your great-aunt was very artistic — a forerunner to the interior decorators of today, only maybe more practical. *g*
    I always admired tatting, but I never learned how to do it. I can’t imagine tatting a whole bedspread. It’s lovely that you have it as a reminder. And those porcelain dolls also sound stunning.

    Reply
  33. PV, how lovely that you have those pots to remind you of your heritage — I bet they’re beautiful, too in the way that good design always is. I have a lovely tin-lined copper pot from Greece that was used as a kettle. For me now, it’s an ornament and a reminder of my happy times there.
    Louisa, sounds like your great-aunt was very artistic — a forerunner to the interior decorators of today, only maybe more practical. *g*
    I always admired tatting, but I never learned how to do it. I can’t imagine tatting a whole bedspread. It’s lovely that you have it as a reminder. And those porcelain dolls also sound stunning.

    Reply
  34. PV, how lovely that you have those pots to remind you of your heritage — I bet they’re beautiful, too in the way that good design always is. I have a lovely tin-lined copper pot from Greece that was used as a kettle. For me now, it’s an ornament and a reminder of my happy times there.
    Louisa, sounds like your great-aunt was very artistic — a forerunner to the interior decorators of today, only maybe more practical. *g*
    I always admired tatting, but I never learned how to do it. I can’t imagine tatting a whole bedspread. It’s lovely that you have it as a reminder. And those porcelain dolls also sound stunning.

    Reply
  35. PV, how lovely that you have those pots to remind you of your heritage — I bet they’re beautiful, too in the way that good design always is. I have a lovely tin-lined copper pot from Greece that was used as a kettle. For me now, it’s an ornament and a reminder of my happy times there.
    Louisa, sounds like your great-aunt was very artistic — a forerunner to the interior decorators of today, only maybe more practical. *g*
    I always admired tatting, but I never learned how to do it. I can’t imagine tatting a whole bedspread. It’s lovely that you have it as a reminder. And those porcelain dolls also sound stunning.

    Reply
  36. Keziah, that throw sounds lovely — and I love that she embroidered your name and the date on it. My mother’s knitted throws all had out names knitted into one of the squares — she made one for each of her kids and grandkids. Very special to have things made just for you.
    Janice, those colors will come back, don’t worry, and some great niece or other relative will be thrilled when you give it to her one day. I, too have a few hand embroidered “special” table clothes that I don’t often use, but recently I’ve been deciding to use them and other items when I have friends over — not fussing or going formal, but just enjoying the pretty things which people used to think were too good to be used (unless the queen dropped in for tea or something *g*)

    Reply
  37. Keziah, that throw sounds lovely — and I love that she embroidered your name and the date on it. My mother’s knitted throws all had out names knitted into one of the squares — she made one for each of her kids and grandkids. Very special to have things made just for you.
    Janice, those colors will come back, don’t worry, and some great niece or other relative will be thrilled when you give it to her one day. I, too have a few hand embroidered “special” table clothes that I don’t often use, but recently I’ve been deciding to use them and other items when I have friends over — not fussing or going formal, but just enjoying the pretty things which people used to think were too good to be used (unless the queen dropped in for tea or something *g*)

    Reply
  38. Keziah, that throw sounds lovely — and I love that she embroidered your name and the date on it. My mother’s knitted throws all had out names knitted into one of the squares — she made one for each of her kids and grandkids. Very special to have things made just for you.
    Janice, those colors will come back, don’t worry, and some great niece or other relative will be thrilled when you give it to her one day. I, too have a few hand embroidered “special” table clothes that I don’t often use, but recently I’ve been deciding to use them and other items when I have friends over — not fussing or going formal, but just enjoying the pretty things which people used to think were too good to be used (unless the queen dropped in for tea or something *g*)

    Reply
  39. Keziah, that throw sounds lovely — and I love that she embroidered your name and the date on it. My mother’s knitted throws all had out names knitted into one of the squares — she made one for each of her kids and grandkids. Very special to have things made just for you.
    Janice, those colors will come back, don’t worry, and some great niece or other relative will be thrilled when you give it to her one day. I, too have a few hand embroidered “special” table clothes that I don’t often use, but recently I’ve been deciding to use them and other items when I have friends over — not fussing or going formal, but just enjoying the pretty things which people used to think were too good to be used (unless the queen dropped in for tea or something *g*)

    Reply
  40. Keziah, that throw sounds lovely — and I love that she embroidered your name and the date on it. My mother’s knitted throws all had out names knitted into one of the squares — she made one for each of her kids and grandkids. Very special to have things made just for you.
    Janice, those colors will come back, don’t worry, and some great niece or other relative will be thrilled when you give it to her one day. I, too have a few hand embroidered “special” table clothes that I don’t often use, but recently I’ve been deciding to use them and other items when I have friends over — not fussing or going formal, but just enjoying the pretty things which people used to think were too good to be used (unless the queen dropped in for tea or something *g*)

    Reply
  41. Anne, how great it is to have quilts with patches of your childhood clothes and great story about the bedspread! I have a number of treasured objects, including kitchen utensils, baking pans and dishes that belonged to my mother and grandmother. It’s very special to make a pot of tea and drink it out of one of the same cups I remember them using. And strangely, I have an emotional attachment to some old gardening tools that were my father’s. When I dig in the garden, I think of him using the same shovel. My grandfather was a metal worker, and I have a small stainless steel frying pan that he made by hand. Also an oil painting of my grandmother which was done by my uncle, and my grandmother’s very old cameo ring that came with her from Vienna. I have afghans knitted by my stepmother, and my “lucky” socks which were knitted for me about 36 years ago by a good friend from Denmark. They are red and white with the Danish flag worked into the pattern, and the reason I still have them is that I wear them only on special occasions and carefully handwash them afterwards! When I was younger, I made baby quilts for a number of friends and family members, and I hope they treasure them-I never saved any for myself!

    Reply
  42. Anne, how great it is to have quilts with patches of your childhood clothes and great story about the bedspread! I have a number of treasured objects, including kitchen utensils, baking pans and dishes that belonged to my mother and grandmother. It’s very special to make a pot of tea and drink it out of one of the same cups I remember them using. And strangely, I have an emotional attachment to some old gardening tools that were my father’s. When I dig in the garden, I think of him using the same shovel. My grandfather was a metal worker, and I have a small stainless steel frying pan that he made by hand. Also an oil painting of my grandmother which was done by my uncle, and my grandmother’s very old cameo ring that came with her from Vienna. I have afghans knitted by my stepmother, and my “lucky” socks which were knitted for me about 36 years ago by a good friend from Denmark. They are red and white with the Danish flag worked into the pattern, and the reason I still have them is that I wear them only on special occasions and carefully handwash them afterwards! When I was younger, I made baby quilts for a number of friends and family members, and I hope they treasure them-I never saved any for myself!

    Reply
  43. Anne, how great it is to have quilts with patches of your childhood clothes and great story about the bedspread! I have a number of treasured objects, including kitchen utensils, baking pans and dishes that belonged to my mother and grandmother. It’s very special to make a pot of tea and drink it out of one of the same cups I remember them using. And strangely, I have an emotional attachment to some old gardening tools that were my father’s. When I dig in the garden, I think of him using the same shovel. My grandfather was a metal worker, and I have a small stainless steel frying pan that he made by hand. Also an oil painting of my grandmother which was done by my uncle, and my grandmother’s very old cameo ring that came with her from Vienna. I have afghans knitted by my stepmother, and my “lucky” socks which were knitted for me about 36 years ago by a good friend from Denmark. They are red and white with the Danish flag worked into the pattern, and the reason I still have them is that I wear them only on special occasions and carefully handwash them afterwards! When I was younger, I made baby quilts for a number of friends and family members, and I hope they treasure them-I never saved any for myself!

    Reply
  44. Anne, how great it is to have quilts with patches of your childhood clothes and great story about the bedspread! I have a number of treasured objects, including kitchen utensils, baking pans and dishes that belonged to my mother and grandmother. It’s very special to make a pot of tea and drink it out of one of the same cups I remember them using. And strangely, I have an emotional attachment to some old gardening tools that were my father’s. When I dig in the garden, I think of him using the same shovel. My grandfather was a metal worker, and I have a small stainless steel frying pan that he made by hand. Also an oil painting of my grandmother which was done by my uncle, and my grandmother’s very old cameo ring that came with her from Vienna. I have afghans knitted by my stepmother, and my “lucky” socks which were knitted for me about 36 years ago by a good friend from Denmark. They are red and white with the Danish flag worked into the pattern, and the reason I still have them is that I wear them only on special occasions and carefully handwash them afterwards! When I was younger, I made baby quilts for a number of friends and family members, and I hope they treasure them-I never saved any for myself!

    Reply
  45. Anne, how great it is to have quilts with patches of your childhood clothes and great story about the bedspread! I have a number of treasured objects, including kitchen utensils, baking pans and dishes that belonged to my mother and grandmother. It’s very special to make a pot of tea and drink it out of one of the same cups I remember them using. And strangely, I have an emotional attachment to some old gardening tools that were my father’s. When I dig in the garden, I think of him using the same shovel. My grandfather was a metal worker, and I have a small stainless steel frying pan that he made by hand. Also an oil painting of my grandmother which was done by my uncle, and my grandmother’s very old cameo ring that came with her from Vienna. I have afghans knitted by my stepmother, and my “lucky” socks which were knitted for me about 36 years ago by a good friend from Denmark. They are red and white with the Danish flag worked into the pattern, and the reason I still have them is that I wear them only on special occasions and carefully handwash them afterwards! When I was younger, I made baby quilts for a number of friends and family members, and I hope they treasure them-I never saved any for myself!

    Reply
  46. I love the story of the quilt whether it is italian or silk doesn’t matter it is definitely something to cherish.I have a white hand knitted bed spread that was possibly my great grandmothers .It is knitted in linen(I think) in small squares and then sewn together with a lacey knitted border.I can imagine it being made by candle light for her trousseau.It lived for years in my mothers linen box along with large white table cloths that only came out for Christmas or large family gatherings but when I inherited it I decided that it should be used and it washes and tumble dries better than a lot of more modern fabrics and fits a treat on my bed !
    Just outside Bath there is the American Museum in a large possibly regency house it is fascinating.However some time ago I took my two kids there and wandering through the rooms came across what I am sure to this day was an identical quilt on one of the displays,labelled I believe as some unique design.Me being me had to touch it to check whether it was made of the same type of material and much to my childrens glee nearly got frogmarched out!!But unique or not I am sure it was the same as great granny’s !!

    Reply
  47. I love the story of the quilt whether it is italian or silk doesn’t matter it is definitely something to cherish.I have a white hand knitted bed spread that was possibly my great grandmothers .It is knitted in linen(I think) in small squares and then sewn together with a lacey knitted border.I can imagine it being made by candle light for her trousseau.It lived for years in my mothers linen box along with large white table cloths that only came out for Christmas or large family gatherings but when I inherited it I decided that it should be used and it washes and tumble dries better than a lot of more modern fabrics and fits a treat on my bed !
    Just outside Bath there is the American Museum in a large possibly regency house it is fascinating.However some time ago I took my two kids there and wandering through the rooms came across what I am sure to this day was an identical quilt on one of the displays,labelled I believe as some unique design.Me being me had to touch it to check whether it was made of the same type of material and much to my childrens glee nearly got frogmarched out!!But unique or not I am sure it was the same as great granny’s !!

    Reply
  48. I love the story of the quilt whether it is italian or silk doesn’t matter it is definitely something to cherish.I have a white hand knitted bed spread that was possibly my great grandmothers .It is knitted in linen(I think) in small squares and then sewn together with a lacey knitted border.I can imagine it being made by candle light for her trousseau.It lived for years in my mothers linen box along with large white table cloths that only came out for Christmas or large family gatherings but when I inherited it I decided that it should be used and it washes and tumble dries better than a lot of more modern fabrics and fits a treat on my bed !
    Just outside Bath there is the American Museum in a large possibly regency house it is fascinating.However some time ago I took my two kids there and wandering through the rooms came across what I am sure to this day was an identical quilt on one of the displays,labelled I believe as some unique design.Me being me had to touch it to check whether it was made of the same type of material and much to my childrens glee nearly got frogmarched out!!But unique or not I am sure it was the same as great granny’s !!

    Reply
  49. I love the story of the quilt whether it is italian or silk doesn’t matter it is definitely something to cherish.I have a white hand knitted bed spread that was possibly my great grandmothers .It is knitted in linen(I think) in small squares and then sewn together with a lacey knitted border.I can imagine it being made by candle light for her trousseau.It lived for years in my mothers linen box along with large white table cloths that only came out for Christmas or large family gatherings but when I inherited it I decided that it should be used and it washes and tumble dries better than a lot of more modern fabrics and fits a treat on my bed !
    Just outside Bath there is the American Museum in a large possibly regency house it is fascinating.However some time ago I took my two kids there and wandering through the rooms came across what I am sure to this day was an identical quilt on one of the displays,labelled I believe as some unique design.Me being me had to touch it to check whether it was made of the same type of material and much to my childrens glee nearly got frogmarched out!!But unique or not I am sure it was the same as great granny’s !!

    Reply
  50. I love the story of the quilt whether it is italian or silk doesn’t matter it is definitely something to cherish.I have a white hand knitted bed spread that was possibly my great grandmothers .It is knitted in linen(I think) in small squares and then sewn together with a lacey knitted border.I can imagine it being made by candle light for her trousseau.It lived for years in my mothers linen box along with large white table cloths that only came out for Christmas or large family gatherings but when I inherited it I decided that it should be used and it washes and tumble dries better than a lot of more modern fabrics and fits a treat on my bed !
    Just outside Bath there is the American Museum in a large possibly regency house it is fascinating.However some time ago I took my two kids there and wandering through the rooms came across what I am sure to this day was an identical quilt on one of the displays,labelled I believe as some unique design.Me being me had to touch it to check whether it was made of the same type of material and much to my childrens glee nearly got frogmarched out!!But unique or not I am sure it was the same as great granny’s !!

    Reply
  51. I have a few beautifully tatted handkerchiefs from my Dad’s mother and a set of sheets and pillow cases with crocheted edges from her SIL, my great aunt. Those were the only two “crafty” women in my family as far as I know. None at all on my Mom’s side!
    Your family heirlooms are beautiful, Anne, but even more beautiful are the memories and stories that go with them. Thanks for sharing!

    Reply
  52. I have a few beautifully tatted handkerchiefs from my Dad’s mother and a set of sheets and pillow cases with crocheted edges from her SIL, my great aunt. Those were the only two “crafty” women in my family as far as I know. None at all on my Mom’s side!
    Your family heirlooms are beautiful, Anne, but even more beautiful are the memories and stories that go with them. Thanks for sharing!

    Reply
  53. I have a few beautifully tatted handkerchiefs from my Dad’s mother and a set of sheets and pillow cases with crocheted edges from her SIL, my great aunt. Those were the only two “crafty” women in my family as far as I know. None at all on my Mom’s side!
    Your family heirlooms are beautiful, Anne, but even more beautiful are the memories and stories that go with them. Thanks for sharing!

    Reply
  54. I have a few beautifully tatted handkerchiefs from my Dad’s mother and a set of sheets and pillow cases with crocheted edges from her SIL, my great aunt. Those were the only two “crafty” women in my family as far as I know. None at all on my Mom’s side!
    Your family heirlooms are beautiful, Anne, but even more beautiful are the memories and stories that go with them. Thanks for sharing!

    Reply
  55. I have a few beautifully tatted handkerchiefs from my Dad’s mother and a set of sheets and pillow cases with crocheted edges from her SIL, my great aunt. Those were the only two “crafty” women in my family as far as I know. None at all on my Mom’s side!
    Your family heirlooms are beautiful, Anne, but even more beautiful are the memories and stories that go with them. Thanks for sharing!

    Reply
  56. My mother’s glory box was (still is) the black wooden chest that her great grand-mother brought from Switzerland (Italian Swiss) to Australia in the 1850s. I love that sense of connection, although I think the chest will eventually go to my sister – she’s the one with the Swiss Italian looks, so that seems fitting.
    One of my grandmothers was a demon with the crochet hook. She made me an exquisite, fine cotton crochet runner for the top of my piano. My mother also made me a runner for the top of my piano – a beautiful piece of pulled needlework. I think Mum probably forgot about the runner Nana made, but I love that I have two such personal pieces made for me by my Nana & my mother, in the crafts that they respectively mastered.

    Reply
  57. My mother’s glory box was (still is) the black wooden chest that her great grand-mother brought from Switzerland (Italian Swiss) to Australia in the 1850s. I love that sense of connection, although I think the chest will eventually go to my sister – she’s the one with the Swiss Italian looks, so that seems fitting.
    One of my grandmothers was a demon with the crochet hook. She made me an exquisite, fine cotton crochet runner for the top of my piano. My mother also made me a runner for the top of my piano – a beautiful piece of pulled needlework. I think Mum probably forgot about the runner Nana made, but I love that I have two such personal pieces made for me by my Nana & my mother, in the crafts that they respectively mastered.

    Reply
  58. My mother’s glory box was (still is) the black wooden chest that her great grand-mother brought from Switzerland (Italian Swiss) to Australia in the 1850s. I love that sense of connection, although I think the chest will eventually go to my sister – she’s the one with the Swiss Italian looks, so that seems fitting.
    One of my grandmothers was a demon with the crochet hook. She made me an exquisite, fine cotton crochet runner for the top of my piano. My mother also made me a runner for the top of my piano – a beautiful piece of pulled needlework. I think Mum probably forgot about the runner Nana made, but I love that I have two such personal pieces made for me by my Nana & my mother, in the crafts that they respectively mastered.

    Reply
  59. My mother’s glory box was (still is) the black wooden chest that her great grand-mother brought from Switzerland (Italian Swiss) to Australia in the 1850s. I love that sense of connection, although I think the chest will eventually go to my sister – she’s the one with the Swiss Italian looks, so that seems fitting.
    One of my grandmothers was a demon with the crochet hook. She made me an exquisite, fine cotton crochet runner for the top of my piano. My mother also made me a runner for the top of my piano – a beautiful piece of pulled needlework. I think Mum probably forgot about the runner Nana made, but I love that I have two such personal pieces made for me by my Nana & my mother, in the crafts that they respectively mastered.

    Reply
  60. My mother’s glory box was (still is) the black wooden chest that her great grand-mother brought from Switzerland (Italian Swiss) to Australia in the 1850s. I love that sense of connection, although I think the chest will eventually go to my sister – she’s the one with the Swiss Italian looks, so that seems fitting.
    One of my grandmothers was a demon with the crochet hook. She made me an exquisite, fine cotton crochet runner for the top of my piano. My mother also made me a runner for the top of my piano – a beautiful piece of pulled needlework. I think Mum probably forgot about the runner Nana made, but I love that I have two such personal pieces made for me by my Nana & my mother, in the crafts that they respectively mastered.

    Reply
  61. I’m really enjoying all these tales of family heirlooms. Thanks so much for sharing, everyone.
    Karin, I love your collection of family mementos, and to feel a touch of family presence in so many things. I had an old axe of my dad’s that was his dad’s axe before him, but it was so heavy I couldn’t really use it, so I gave it away, but I do understand keeping your father’s garden tools and the sense of connection it brings you. I also have a lot of lovely crockery that was my mothers and some from a grandmother. One day I’m going to have a proper old-fashioned tea party and use all the cups, sauces and plates I have — and the embroidered tablecloths and napkins.

    Reply
  62. I’m really enjoying all these tales of family heirlooms. Thanks so much for sharing, everyone.
    Karin, I love your collection of family mementos, and to feel a touch of family presence in so many things. I had an old axe of my dad’s that was his dad’s axe before him, but it was so heavy I couldn’t really use it, so I gave it away, but I do understand keeping your father’s garden tools and the sense of connection it brings you. I also have a lot of lovely crockery that was my mothers and some from a grandmother. One day I’m going to have a proper old-fashioned tea party and use all the cups, sauces and plates I have — and the embroidered tablecloths and napkins.

    Reply
  63. I’m really enjoying all these tales of family heirlooms. Thanks so much for sharing, everyone.
    Karin, I love your collection of family mementos, and to feel a touch of family presence in so many things. I had an old axe of my dad’s that was his dad’s axe before him, but it was so heavy I couldn’t really use it, so I gave it away, but I do understand keeping your father’s garden tools and the sense of connection it brings you. I also have a lot of lovely crockery that was my mothers and some from a grandmother. One day I’m going to have a proper old-fashioned tea party and use all the cups, sauces and plates I have — and the embroidered tablecloths and napkins.

    Reply
  64. I’m really enjoying all these tales of family heirlooms. Thanks so much for sharing, everyone.
    Karin, I love your collection of family mementos, and to feel a touch of family presence in so many things. I had an old axe of my dad’s that was his dad’s axe before him, but it was so heavy I couldn’t really use it, so I gave it away, but I do understand keeping your father’s garden tools and the sense of connection it brings you. I also have a lot of lovely crockery that was my mothers and some from a grandmother. One day I’m going to have a proper old-fashioned tea party and use all the cups, sauces and plates I have — and the embroidered tablecloths and napkins.

    Reply
  65. I’m really enjoying all these tales of family heirlooms. Thanks so much for sharing, everyone.
    Karin, I love your collection of family mementos, and to feel a touch of family presence in so many things. I had an old axe of my dad’s that was his dad’s axe before him, but it was so heavy I couldn’t really use it, so I gave it away, but I do understand keeping your father’s garden tools and the sense of connection it brings you. I also have a lot of lovely crockery that was my mothers and some from a grandmother. One day I’m going to have a proper old-fashioned tea party and use all the cups, sauces and plates I have — and the embroidered tablecloths and napkins.

    Reply
  66. Jo, that hand made quilt sounds amazing — and I chuckled at your infraction of the no-touching rules at that museum house. And how fascinating that the quilts are the same — I wonder if you could find out. Maybe your ancestor made them both! I’m so glad you use and love yours — I get pleasure from using my “special” things. The reason I don’t use them more often is really because of the ironing. *g*
    Donna, lovely that you have those hankies and the sheets with the hand-crocheted edges. They give you a picture, don’t they, of some young woman diligently and carefully crocheting sheets in preparation for her marriage.

    Reply
  67. Jo, that hand made quilt sounds amazing — and I chuckled at your infraction of the no-touching rules at that museum house. And how fascinating that the quilts are the same — I wonder if you could find out. Maybe your ancestor made them both! I’m so glad you use and love yours — I get pleasure from using my “special” things. The reason I don’t use them more often is really because of the ironing. *g*
    Donna, lovely that you have those hankies and the sheets with the hand-crocheted edges. They give you a picture, don’t they, of some young woman diligently and carefully crocheting sheets in preparation for her marriage.

    Reply
  68. Jo, that hand made quilt sounds amazing — and I chuckled at your infraction of the no-touching rules at that museum house. And how fascinating that the quilts are the same — I wonder if you could find out. Maybe your ancestor made them both! I’m so glad you use and love yours — I get pleasure from using my “special” things. The reason I don’t use them more often is really because of the ironing. *g*
    Donna, lovely that you have those hankies and the sheets with the hand-crocheted edges. They give you a picture, don’t they, of some young woman diligently and carefully crocheting sheets in preparation for her marriage.

    Reply
  69. Jo, that hand made quilt sounds amazing — and I chuckled at your infraction of the no-touching rules at that museum house. And how fascinating that the quilts are the same — I wonder if you could find out. Maybe your ancestor made them both! I’m so glad you use and love yours — I get pleasure from using my “special” things. The reason I don’t use them more often is really because of the ironing. *g*
    Donna, lovely that you have those hankies and the sheets with the hand-crocheted edges. They give you a picture, don’t they, of some young woman diligently and carefully crocheting sheets in preparation for her marriage.

    Reply
  70. Jo, that hand made quilt sounds amazing — and I chuckled at your infraction of the no-touching rules at that museum house. And how fascinating that the quilts are the same — I wonder if you could find out. Maybe your ancestor made them both! I’m so glad you use and love yours — I get pleasure from using my “special” things. The reason I don’t use them more often is really because of the ironing. *g*
    Donna, lovely that you have those hankies and the sheets with the hand-crocheted edges. They give you a picture, don’t they, of some young woman diligently and carefully crocheting sheets in preparation for her marriage.

    Reply
  71. Shannon, you will really have to get two pianos so you can use both of those beautiful pieces. And one day you’ll pass them to your daughter, along with the family stories and some of your own work. And. . . I do believe you once mentioned a family geranium, that was brought out all those many years ago from Switzerland — another treasured heirloom, hand tended if not hand made.

    Reply
  72. Shannon, you will really have to get two pianos so you can use both of those beautiful pieces. And one day you’ll pass them to your daughter, along with the family stories and some of your own work. And. . . I do believe you once mentioned a family geranium, that was brought out all those many years ago from Switzerland — another treasured heirloom, hand tended if not hand made.

    Reply
  73. Shannon, you will really have to get two pianos so you can use both of those beautiful pieces. And one day you’ll pass them to your daughter, along with the family stories and some of your own work. And. . . I do believe you once mentioned a family geranium, that was brought out all those many years ago from Switzerland — another treasured heirloom, hand tended if not hand made.

    Reply
  74. Shannon, you will really have to get two pianos so you can use both of those beautiful pieces. And one day you’ll pass them to your daughter, along with the family stories and some of your own work. And. . . I do believe you once mentioned a family geranium, that was brought out all those many years ago from Switzerland — another treasured heirloom, hand tended if not hand made.

    Reply
  75. Shannon, you will really have to get two pianos so you can use both of those beautiful pieces. And one day you’ll pass them to your daughter, along with the family stories and some of your own work. And. . . I do believe you once mentioned a family geranium, that was brought out all those many years ago from Switzerland — another treasured heirloom, hand tended if not hand made.

    Reply
  76. I loved the story you shared about your treasured family heirlooms! It made me think of the chest by Dad passed on to me. After he graduated from High School back in 1936 he worked on a boat that went to Europe with an old wooden chest with his possessions packed inside for the trip.
    Along with the chest he included 2 telegraphs – one from him to his father that said “Dad, I am going to China and one back from his father that said “Son, you are going to college!!
    He returned home and graduated from Union College 4 years later!
    When he gave me the chest it only had one thing inside it – a Mandolin – that he bought from a sailor who was going on shore and had no cash to use! I love the chest not only because of it giving me the chance to know my father as a young man but also because of it’s “hidden compartments”! Now if only I had found a treasure tucked inside one of them that gave me a look into what else my Dad did on his journey!

    Reply
  77. I loved the story you shared about your treasured family heirlooms! It made me think of the chest by Dad passed on to me. After he graduated from High School back in 1936 he worked on a boat that went to Europe with an old wooden chest with his possessions packed inside for the trip.
    Along with the chest he included 2 telegraphs – one from him to his father that said “Dad, I am going to China and one back from his father that said “Son, you are going to college!!
    He returned home and graduated from Union College 4 years later!
    When he gave me the chest it only had one thing inside it – a Mandolin – that he bought from a sailor who was going on shore and had no cash to use! I love the chest not only because of it giving me the chance to know my father as a young man but also because of it’s “hidden compartments”! Now if only I had found a treasure tucked inside one of them that gave me a look into what else my Dad did on his journey!

    Reply
  78. I loved the story you shared about your treasured family heirlooms! It made me think of the chest by Dad passed on to me. After he graduated from High School back in 1936 he worked on a boat that went to Europe with an old wooden chest with his possessions packed inside for the trip.
    Along with the chest he included 2 telegraphs – one from him to his father that said “Dad, I am going to China and one back from his father that said “Son, you are going to college!!
    He returned home and graduated from Union College 4 years later!
    When he gave me the chest it only had one thing inside it – a Mandolin – that he bought from a sailor who was going on shore and had no cash to use! I love the chest not only because of it giving me the chance to know my father as a young man but also because of it’s “hidden compartments”! Now if only I had found a treasure tucked inside one of them that gave me a look into what else my Dad did on his journey!

    Reply
  79. I loved the story you shared about your treasured family heirlooms! It made me think of the chest by Dad passed on to me. After he graduated from High School back in 1936 he worked on a boat that went to Europe with an old wooden chest with his possessions packed inside for the trip.
    Along with the chest he included 2 telegraphs – one from him to his father that said “Dad, I am going to China and one back from his father that said “Son, you are going to college!!
    He returned home and graduated from Union College 4 years later!
    When he gave me the chest it only had one thing inside it – a Mandolin – that he bought from a sailor who was going on shore and had no cash to use! I love the chest not only because of it giving me the chance to know my father as a young man but also because of it’s “hidden compartments”! Now if only I had found a treasure tucked inside one of them that gave me a look into what else my Dad did on his journey!

    Reply
  80. I loved the story you shared about your treasured family heirlooms! It made me think of the chest by Dad passed on to me. After he graduated from High School back in 1936 he worked on a boat that went to Europe with an old wooden chest with his possessions packed inside for the trip.
    Along with the chest he included 2 telegraphs – one from him to his father that said “Dad, I am going to China and one back from his father that said “Son, you are going to college!!
    He returned home and graduated from Union College 4 years later!
    When he gave me the chest it only had one thing inside it – a Mandolin – that he bought from a sailor who was going on shore and had no cash to use! I love the chest not only because of it giving me the chance to know my father as a young man but also because of it’s “hidden compartments”! Now if only I had found a treasure tucked inside one of them that gave me a look into what else my Dad did on his journey!

    Reply
  81. Jeanne, I loved your story of your dad’s sea chest — and I especially liked the “dueling telegrams.” Do you play the mandolin? I think your father must have had a fascinating early life. How he must have grown up from that boy who left school in 1936 to the young man who returned home and went to college. Thanks for sharing it.
    Ella, thanks, yes she did lash out, but I bet she haggled with the best of them. Every penny was hard come by in those days.

    Reply
  82. Jeanne, I loved your story of your dad’s sea chest — and I especially liked the “dueling telegrams.” Do you play the mandolin? I think your father must have had a fascinating early life. How he must have grown up from that boy who left school in 1936 to the young man who returned home and went to college. Thanks for sharing it.
    Ella, thanks, yes she did lash out, but I bet she haggled with the best of them. Every penny was hard come by in those days.

    Reply
  83. Jeanne, I loved your story of your dad’s sea chest — and I especially liked the “dueling telegrams.” Do you play the mandolin? I think your father must have had a fascinating early life. How he must have grown up from that boy who left school in 1936 to the young man who returned home and went to college. Thanks for sharing it.
    Ella, thanks, yes she did lash out, but I bet she haggled with the best of them. Every penny was hard come by in those days.

    Reply
  84. Jeanne, I loved your story of your dad’s sea chest — and I especially liked the “dueling telegrams.” Do you play the mandolin? I think your father must have had a fascinating early life. How he must have grown up from that boy who left school in 1936 to the young man who returned home and went to college. Thanks for sharing it.
    Ella, thanks, yes she did lash out, but I bet she haggled with the best of them. Every penny was hard come by in those days.

    Reply
  85. Jeanne, I loved your story of your dad’s sea chest — and I especially liked the “dueling telegrams.” Do you play the mandolin? I think your father must have had a fascinating early life. How he must have grown up from that boy who left school in 1936 to the young man who returned home and went to college. Thanks for sharing it.
    Ella, thanks, yes she did lash out, but I bet she haggled with the best of them. Every penny was hard come by in those days.

    Reply

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