The Upside-down Burning Chair

Yes, this is a photo of a burning chair, and kind of sad, but I’m thankful for it. Being an antique dealer and lover of all things old, I have a deep respect and honor for old, inanimate objects like pieces of furniture, trinkets, jewelry, photos and crystal. What do I mean by honor? Well, a long long time ago, in a land called, “antique” furniture and other items were made by hand. Carvings were just that, literally carved by hand, not manufactured. China tea cups were painted with the greatest care. It is a fascinating world of beauty and craftsmanship.

I have foundmyself sitting at marked up old kitchen tables with obvious wear marks and wondered, as my fingers ran across the surface, who sat here? Did they drink coffee in the morning? Beer or wine with dinner? Did they tell family stories and argue about who was washing the dishes and play poker?

img_20180605_170255933_ll~21411274106..jpg

Antique mirrors intrigue me too. As I gaze at my own reflection I wonder who else has looked into this beautiful mirror and checked themselves out? Does this fit? Is this a good color? Am I pretty? Will he like it? Did she have self doubt of great confidence?

img_20180620_125518104~21126837768..jpg

Check out my blog, The Brow Bag Letter to see my appreciation for antique photos, they slay me. Most photos are anonymous that are still here with us today. Names unknown, people forgotten. So yes, I honor inanimate objects without apology.

Imagine me, the one that loves and honors antiques burning a 100 year old chair in my fire pit. I do try and re-purpose or refinish what I can, but this one was without hope. The caning was ripped and it had some breaks in the wood. Truly not savable, so yes, I burned it. As I placed it in the fire and felt the warmth of the embers, I wondered, who sat in this chair? I sat and relaxed with a glass of wine and contemplated the possibilities, which of course reminded me of special memories.

Sometimes memories seemed burned up or long forgotten, like the people in antique photos, then something triggers a memory, and you are THERE. again, in your mind as if it is just happening.

This chair remind me of:

Coffee with Mom on a Saturday morning and sitting at the table while she ironed Dad’s shirts. There were many great conversations about family, love, boyfriends and girly silliness and giggles.

The day a man from Church that stopped by the house and I invited him in for a cup of coffee. As we sat there in the kitchen talking, my incredibly friendly German Shepherd was growling every time he lifted his cup. Evidently Corey didn’t think he was trustworthy and was very protective. Grrrrrrrrr

My hubby and I met at a local park, and we sat on a bench getting to know each other, I think it was around five hours later that we finally got up!

When your memories are triggered, I hope they are wonderful! Learn from the bad & hurtful ones, and don’t let it happen again! Be empowered to make change happen. Appreciate the ones you are reminded of all the time. Enjoy those that sneak up on you. Relive the moment and think, how can I create memories that are this special for someone else? Who could I share my life with that would be blessed if 40 years later they are “there again” via memory?

I appreciate the burning upside down chair. I’m thankful for those who sat in it for many years. (Considering the shape it was in, it must have been well-loved). I could ask what triggers your special memories, but I think I’ll be more specific . . . in honor of the burning chair. What special memories do you have that involve a chair?

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

Please visit my other blog: The Brown Bag Letter

HUSBAND!

I LOVE MY HUSBAND!

BUT . . . there are times when,

well,

you know.

We have been working hard this week taking a roof off a house that we are flipping. We are taking advantage of a 5 day forecast of “NO RAIN” (I’ll believe it when I see it) here in Pennsylvania, hahaha, that’s funny, it’s summer!

So, when you’re up on a roof, with a hammer, a ply-bar and your muscles (or lack thereof) it’s important to have a good hearty breakfast, don’t you agree?  Our staple breakfast is Old Fashioned Oatmeal with flax seed & whatever fruit might be available with yummy cinnamon or ginger spice, maybe a sprinkle of nutmeg. Yesterday morning, of all mornings, (Day #2 of roofing job) my husband decides to “surprise me” by putting ANISE spice in my oatmeal.  He says, “I only put a little”.

So, who’s complaining? ME!

Karen, if you have a man that makes you oatmeal in the morning, self says, NEVER COMPLAIN!!! NEVER!  But Anise in oatmeal? Anise is what gives flavor to licorice. In all fairness, I tried. I added a little more milk, and tried not to smell that $#!+ in my breakfast bowl. I tried to be a WOman about it, but I couldn’t bear it. THEN, I started burping, which LASTED ALL DAY LONG and I didn’t even eat one quarter of the bowl. (Burping, like a woMAN).

As if I didn’t bitch enough about that to him, here I am sharing my bitching with the whole wide world . . .

That I am so grateful

That he put something so

AWFUL

In my oatmeal!

Why grateful you ask?

It brought back to me (in all my discomfort and awful disgust and burping anise) one of  the most wonderful memories of my childhood.

When I was a little girl, every Christmas Eve, we would visit our cousins. I remember one year there was a really bad snow storm, but we went anyway. We loved visiting our family and would have such a great time with our cousins. A part of that great time was the amazing cooking of their Mom, Aunt Carol. She was the best cook this side of the Mississippi, maybe even on the other side too. OK, she was possibly the best cook in the world.

She must have spent so much time in that kitchen baking cookies. They were all so tasty and pretty, but there was one that I was convinced only she knew how to make because I had never seen them EVER, anywhere before. So, every year, I would “try” one because they were the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. Aunt Carole’s pizzelle cookies were the most tempting.  I mean, really —wouldn’t you just want to eat this lovely thing?

Photo from Ann’s Entitled Life

I think I’m right, you would. Of all the cookies, these were the prettiest.

And guess what?

Every year

I HATED PIZZELLES

Why you ask?

Because they have ANISE in them!!!!

That’s why.

Today, as I was sweating on that roof, worrying about the danger, burping anise, I ended up thinking a lot about my family.

I thought about Aunt Carol. She passed away just a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. I thought about the bonds of love that surpass time and separation with my cousins. I thought about, not my hate for anise, but my LOVE for the memory of this smiling, beautiful woman.

I find it amazing that something that I ended up bitching about to my husband turned in to a wonderful day of remembrance.  Never underestimate the wonderful power of memory, even at the cost of eating Anise! By the way, Aunt Carol also made the best homemade pizza! Back in the 60’s, who made pizza at home? Aunt Carol!

Enjoying the adventure,

Dr. Dink

 

I understand that most “normal” people like pizzelles, so please try them! You can find the recipe for the beautiful photo above, and other recipes at Ann’s Entitled Life Please visit her page for great recipes & home ideas!

_____________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share

Musical Memory

img_20180614_074211185_ll753072436.jpg

I love musical memory, except for when it comes to the Purple Dinosaur with his tail swinging as he sings the, “I love you, you love me” song, or the “Noah” song that I learned in Vacation Bible School years ago, I want to scream and listen to head-banging music just to get it out of repeat mode in my brain. But for the most part, musical memory is wonderful.

The other day, I received a text asking for a verse that would be appropriate for comfort for someone who had a death in the family. It would be great if it had to do with the setting sun. Immediately I had a song in my mind that I knew came from the Psalms. “From the rising of the sun, to the going down of the same, the Name of the Lord shall be praised!” (Psalm 113:3) — and I’ve been silently hearing and enjoying it since.

Musical memory is an amazing thing, it can bring us back to places we have long forgotten, our first kiss, that fun trip with a girlfriend, good times, bad times, sad times and times of love, joy and wonder. I love listening to what are considered “oldies” now for that very reason. (Hold on, how can songs I grew up with be considered old? OK, I’ll call them classic rock, that sounds much better!).

I’ve sang songs with people in nursing homes, and watched those who have basically no memory left at all, sing along with songs or hymns with huge smiles on their faces. These have been beautiful moments of the power of music.

What songs “bring you back?” What songs give you pleasant memories, you know, the ones you know all the words to and can’t help but sing along? The songs that you really don’t mind if it bounces around in your head for an hour, or a day. Yes, that one!

Please don’t say the purple dinosaur song, because if you do I’ll start hearing it over and over and over. Which is now, Oh no! Why did I do this to myself?  PLEASE REPLACE WITH A NEW SONG! Let’s have some fun with this one . . . it doesn’t matter if it was last year, a decade or five decades ago . . . what song brings you back to a good place and time?

Enjoying the adventure,

Dr. Dink

My song for today, you ask? Mambo No. 5, of course!

__________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share