Anniversary for 'A Tale for Easter'

One of my favorite little books, written and illustrated by Tasha Tudor, is A Tale for Easter. This Sunday, March 13, will mark seventy years since it was published. I searched for the book after being so intrigued by the story of its debut in the Spring of 1941...no one realizing the world would be at war, soon after. When the small, square, green cloth-covered book arrived, I was so taken with the illustrations and the simplicity of its text. When I turned to the page that read, "There might even be a bunny in Grandma's rocking chair"... I was delighted to see a picture of a rocker that resembles my "Grammy's rocker"...a dark brown wicker with red toile cushions... given to me by my mother, and in which I rocked Xavier as an infant. There is a wonderful creaking it makes, as I rock slowly back and forth, and that tiny little fellow came to recognize it as a comforting sound. As I cradled his head in the crook of my left arm, the pressure of my elbow caused an ever-growing weak spot in that section of the chair's wide arm.  As Xavier grew, he liked poking his fingers into the cracking wicker, pulling out little pieces as they began to weaken. A friend visiting our home, noticed this hole, and after my lengthy, affectionate explanation of the cause of this "defect", she gave me a piece of reassuring advice..."never, ever cover that spot....it will always be a precious reminder of rocking your grandbaby."

So now I rock our newest grandbaby, Sophia Abigail, in this creaking chair... resting my elbow on the worn arm...and thinking of the words of a sweet song "rockin' chairs, rockin' babies, rock-a-bye, rock of ages."

My Favorite Color...for now

Xavier likes to pose the question, "Grammy what's your favorite color?" 

He can recall everyone's favorite, but continues to enjoy this relay. 

Depending on the season, I'll look around the room and choose a color that seems to be a predominant factor in the decor. 

I cannot choose pink, because that remains his mommy's favorite, so I choose carefully. 

When I recently began a knitting project, I had chosen a shade of yarn, 

completely out of the range of colors I am typically drawn to (mossy shades of green), 

but it seemed to call my name.  

As the project progressed (a Tasha Tudor inspired Cottage Shawl), 

I began to realize that this was becoming my new favorite color....

the color of some of my very favorite things...Yellow ware bowls, Beeswax candles, Ducklings and Gourds pictured in two of my favorite T. Tudor books, 

and the antique dish of my "truffle holder" (a Christmas gift made by sister-in-law Bonnie) 

and the aged cover of a vintage children's book. 

I am not sure what to call this shade...the label on the skein of yarn was stamped "yellow," 

which seems quite insufficient for this beautiful color.  

I will just simply name it Grammy Yellow. 

Xavier must remain patient, as I search diligently for a term which seems fitting for this charming hue.

Comfort Food

When Xavier comes to visit, he knows there will always be a plentiful supply of his favorite foods....comfort foods, as we call them here in the South.  Now, of course, his favorites vary depending on whose home he's in....if he is spending time with his Nana and Gran, he is assured that they will always have a box of honey buns at the ready. Visiting  his Aunt Cheri and Uncle Steve's house, means that he will raid the pantry to find the carton of goldfish crackers. At Grammy's house, along with the grapes, that always occupy the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, the Special K with almond and vanilla he requests upon waking,  the toast with butter, that tastes yummy and warm, mid-morning... he invariably puts in his order for eggs...not scrambled..."scrandled." We have fallen in love with this term and cannot resist his wishes. He likes when he gets to pick out which colors will go in the skillet and calls them out.."Bwue, bwown, and one white."  He once made the request that the entire bowl full of colorful eggs be made into a "big, huge, pwateful." We have narrowed the number to three...with Grammy's coaxing. It took great wisdom and patience to allow him, upon his insistence, to crack the first one. I thought for a moment and wondered, how else will he  learn the shell of a fresh egg is so fragile. As the egg shattered against the rim of the bowl, he waited for my admonishment. When I reached for the bowl, I said, "It's okay..those eggs break so easy...we'll just rinse this out and make some more." He looked up at me and said, "Here, you do it," relinquishing the task to me. With time he will learn to tap gently and handle with care. What lessons I learn as I watch this little boy grow.

Grammy's Cupboard

This cupboard served originally as a computer cabinet. It was far too heavy and awkward to negotiate the stairs leading to our bonus room, so it found its resting place right inside our back door. A plan to repurpose this cabinet was present in the wee hours of a winter morning...it would become an inviting little nook for the grandchildren to read a book, work a puzzle, or color with crayons and colored pencils. There was extra room on the top shelf for my collection of "friends"...those lovely old books, guilty of enticing  me to fall in love with reading. I love to open them and inhale the smell of another time, a life a hundred years ago. It is a particular treat to find the signature of the owner, frequently written in pencil, but a special treasure if the name is signed in ink....a quill, a fountain pen...always makes me wonder.  I love to find old children's book of nursery rhymes or stories, and I was completely over the moon when I came across two volumes from a set similar to one we were given as children. It brought back such a flood of memories, as that set had long since gone to another home.

I want this cupboard to be a place where a love for books is cultivated.

The table is set...

This little table was built by my father-in-law, after we spotted one in a charming tearoom in Gatlinburg.  My Mother-in-law and I had to have pictures taken so he could build an exact replica for both of us. Since it came into our home, I have acquired an ever growing assortment of tea table necessities and visitors to occupy the seats while the children are away. A log is kept of our most favorite teas and where they can be purchased, favorite books are displayed as the seasons and holidays come and go, and tiny candlesticks hold beeswax candles found on a recent trip to Old Salem, NC.  A favorite doilie, I made years ago before I became a mother, is displayed in a frame that once held a photo of my parents' wedding reception. Handkerchiefs serve the purpose of wiping little hands, flatware is suitably sized for children (not babies and not adults), and the antique china dinner set (found on sale) is perfect for bite-sized sandwiches and a spot of tea. The old doll-sized quilt came with an antique "dream baby" I acquired at Christmastime, and after visiting the Corgyncombe Courant (my most favorite place to visit), I fell in love with the photo Diane posted of her "A is for Annabelle" display. A generous thank you to her ...she is truly an inspiration!
I have always loved tea sets and, as a little girl, was given many miniature sets. I always longed for one that was just the right size ....my "little girl dreams" are alive and well...

I could not resist the tiny "time for tea" necklace ...reminding us to always take time!

Wake up, wake up, hear the robins singing...

There was a song I used to sing to my children when they were growing up. I'm not sure if it had a title, but it was such a sweet little tune...

Wake up, wake up, hear the robins singing...

Singing, bringing messages of Spring.

So get up, get up, sleepy head..

Don't you know it's Spring-Time!

Pussy-Willows in the meadow swaying...

Birds in tree-tops seem to be a-saying,

"Oh, get up, get up, sleepy head;

Don't you know it's Spring-Time!"

This morning, my faithful bird friends sang outside my window for the longest time. 

Each Spring, this song comes to mind, as these little feathered friends begin their singing. 

This year, I came across a website offering fresh pussy willow branches. 

Arranged in an urn with moss, this wonderful harbinger of Spring lifts my winter-weary spirit each time I pass. 

I sent a batch to my sister-in-law, whose birthday is around the corner, and she has placed the branches in vases of water, in hopes they will take root.  

If successful, she has promised to share.... much to my delight! 

It will be planted down by our pond, alongside the great weeping willow, 

referred to by Xavier as the "marshmallow tree."  

Only from the perspective of a toddler, was I able to see the fresh, green buds of the season, as marshmallows. 

And we couldn't just walk up to the tree, we had to run into the midst of the long, flowing branches; twirling, with our arms stretched out.

I am thankful for this little boy's unending supply of energy and am fascinated by his imagination, curiosity, ability to remember,  and love of life.

This morning, as my husband was leaving for work, he observed that everything had turned green, seemingly over night... and he mentioned the willow tree. I responded, "You mean, the "marshmallow tree?"

"Tut-tut, it looks like rain"

One Sunday, driving home from church with our grandson, we began a discussion on rain. Xavier asked, "Where is the rain?" I answered,"It's hard to see, but if you'll look at the windshield, you'll see the rain drops." He replied,"The rain drops are up there; they drop the rain out of the sky. I call those clouds 'rain drops'. They make rain drips...see those rain drips?" His explanation seemed quite logical. Winnie-the-pooh must have been four when he posed as a little black rain cloud, thinking he could convince the honeybees by saying,"tut-tut, it looks like rain."

A blustery day

I stepped out this morning to pick the daffodils that have bloomed in the flower beds. 

It has been overcast, and heavy rain is predicted for tomorrow.

 I decided the "little yellow flowers", as our grandson Xavier calls them, needed a timely rescue. 

I recalled the phrase "a blustery day", as I stooped to cut the blooms, the wind blowing and swirling my hair. 

How many times did I watch Winnie-the-Pooh with my children when they were little, having his terms solidified in my memory, I cannot recall, but they are precious memories. 

As a young mother, I was rarely able to slow down to a pace that afforded time to document everyday moments. 

Becoming a grandmother has given me a chance to relish and recollect the seemingly unimportant things..the first somersault on a spring-like day, the sound of a bird singing early in the morning, the way a fuzzy caterpillar feels between your fingers..moments that become treasures as they are brought to the forefront of my mind with the help of these new little people we call grandchildren.

The vibrant color of the teacup-shaped flowers brought a bit of Spring into Grammy's House, 

and I am most certain they will be noticed by one 4 year old little fellow when he comes for a visit.