a monday of memories

armed with my new camera, i've been obsessed with photographing everything. couple that with my recent mental trip into vintage joy and i began photographing my grandmother's house.

the hallway where her cane sits is quiet and still. quite unlike the summers of long ago where i and my cousins filled it with hasty activity. as children, littering it's chestnut brown plush coverings with our varied playthings. as adolescents, waiting impatiently for our turn in the shower. always creating a major traffic diversion for those passers-by who did not understand how it could possibly take each of us an entire hour to vacate the powder room. overhead the swamp cooler sits idle, taking solace in it's much needed vacation now that summer is officially out of our reach for a time.

i see her kitchen. the dark wooden cabinets which hold myriad dishes and contraptions to be pulled out at a moments notice. the silverware drawer that stores the much loved and oft used iced tea spoons. will i remember in twenty years how the sight of those spoons makes me crave a float, light on the root beer - heavy on the BYU dairy vanilla (from the 5 gallon bucket), frozen so stiff that only amazing uncles are strong enough to scoop it? or the humongous metal mixing bowls which so often created anticipation stronger than any i've ever felt. grandma always cooked with me. it's no wonder i love to bake. for my entire childhood, it was my favorite activity with both of my favorite women.

at christmastime, the painted metal coal bucket sat next to the fireplace and we were allowed to snack from the treats within at any time, and didn't even need to ask our parents. it was the holiday rule at grandma's. the other girls loved the puffed rice balls but my favorite was the candied puffed wheat. when i asked grandma last year how to make it, she gave a very typical response to a recipe request "oh, i don't know. my mother used to make it." apparently it was based off something called pink popcorn that could be purchased in bags. she continued, "it's just a cup of milk and about a half cup of sugar. cook it til it's stringy, dangling oh, about so far off the spoon. then add food coloring and the wheat." i can't wait to try it. for some reason, it feels like my genealogy is in that recipe.

i walked through the basement, now finished with walls and carpet, bearing no resemblance to the open dormitory of years gone by. where 4-15 of us would crash at any given holiday to have our family-only sleepover and could laugh into the wee hours of the morning without being censured in our silliness.

that house holds so many memories that are dear to my heart. for a long time, it was the only place on earth where i felt peace. where i knew beyond a shadow of doubt that i was unconditionally loved. i wish i'd taken pictures earlier. before the new carpet, the bathroom redo, and the changed furniture. i miss the orange velour sofa and dark brown completely worn carpeting. but no matter what changes, it is grandma's house, and i love the home for how i feel when i am there - not for the carpet or the tile or the furniture, not for the old bumper pool table or the porch swing, not for the mixing bowls, treats or apple tree. i love the house for grandma.

and now, aeryn gets to love it for the very same reason. truly we are blessed.