Block 39

It gets to me

that when I make some blocks,

I just have to smile.

Block #39

was like that.

Hollyhocks . .

a blessing each spring.

The seemed to grow

up and down

all of the alleys

in the town

where I grew up.

One of my fondest memories

is watching Mary and Grandma

make "dancing dolls"

out of a

fully unopened flower

and and 3 buds.

This is something

I have passed on

 to many a young girl . . .

the art of making

Old Fashioned Hollyhock

Dancing Girls.

(This little doll is similar to the ones we made.

Ours had a toothpick where the arms are

with small buds covering them for the arms.)

The new Hollyhocks

don't cut it.

They look like carnations

growing on a corn stalk.

(This is the

New Fashioned "pretender"

to the throne.

A Pox, I say

A Pox on your

Chrysanthemum-ness!)

Give me

an old fashioned Hollyhock

in my backyard

and in the spring,

when they bloom,

the world

is a much better place.

Dear Lord,

You blessed me with a Grandma who loved me and a Mary who stepped right up to the plate when Grandma died. They both instilled in me my love of crochet and Mary actually let me "quilt" on one of the quilts she was making. I can't remember if I ever cut noodles on her dining room table, but I sure did "steal" enough of them as they lay there drying :0}

How many children in our hectic world have an older generation around who will sit on their front porch and swing with them, who lets you burst into their home, unannounced, because that's what good neighbors do . . .well, I did have to learn to say, "Yoo-hoo, anybody home?" as I opened the front door.  (To this day, I still do this in a few homes . . family and two friends . . . it just seems right . . and they do it to me too. Maybe it is one of the remnants of being from a small town where "everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came" to quote the title song from Cheers.)

Summers spent on the front porch swing at home and at Mary's, sitting in the back yard between the houses, trying to keep cool, learning how to make Holly Hock Dancing Dolls and wondering why I never did pick up the fine art of weaving clover flowers into crowns?

Lord, you amaze me at what you exposed me to and I am thankful everyday of my life for that exposure.

Amen

(1028)

Blocks 5 and 6

 Today was Family Day again.

Whenever I think of my brother Lee

I automatically think of a baseball catcher.

I think that,

from the time I was four

until I was 14 or 15,

I spent every summer

at a baseball diamond

 watching him.

Well, truth be told,

I probably spent

a lot more of that time

playing at the playgrounds,

but you get my gist.

Block #5

is my representation of Lee.

Ever tried to make a ball out of squares?

How about a catchers mitt

 which is one big circle . . .

except for the thumb indent

and the squared off bottom

that opens for the wrist.

I can remember his mitt,

resting on,

or in,

the small dresser that was in his closet.

It felt so soft to the touch . . .

and the lacings were always worn.

I included the  lacing

so you can tell where the thumb has some motion.

Block #6

is for Grandma . . .

right next to Mom,

her daughter.

I have a lot of memories of Grandma.

The one that always comes to mind . . .

her sitting in her rocker

beside the dining room window

crocheting dish cloths

for Aunt Helen to sell

at General Tire.

Her pattern was nothing more than #10 cotton

crocheted with a steel hook.

It had a chain base

and the rows were:

 double crochet,

chain 1,

skip 1,

double crochet again.

This pattern was repeated

until the height she wanted

was achieved.

Dc, *ch 1, sk 1, dc,*

repeat from * to * across,

ch 2, turn.

Very simple instructions

for something that lasted forever.

Not only do I have

one or two of her cloths

but she also gave me my love of crochet.

You can tell by the complete photo

that I have two more blocks started.

To be honest, only 1 block is started,

that being the black one.

It is for my Grandpa Gaumer.

The brown X is just that

 a brown X.

(Oh,

I capitalized Grandpa's name for a reason . . .

he had the thickest white hair

for a man his age.

So I had to make his name thick and white.)

I have yet to decide what I want for myself

but I know I will be in this space.

I'm laughing because

 it sounds like

my plot at the cemetery in Logan.

I know I will  be buried right next to Mom

but I don't know when.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for allowing me to live with Grandma. I am sure it was rough on her . . . she would have been in her late 60's when I was born . . . but I can tell from the earliest pictures with her that she did enjoy me. It's just that the clearer memories are from when she got older and I am sure she would have loved to have had a quieter home.

And thank you for giving me Lee. I always knew how much I loved him, even though our family doesn't display affection. But when I went back home for the 1st time after we moved to Western New York, I could see how much he missed me in his smile. That truly warmed my soul. We seldom saw each other when I lived at home, except the kids birthdays and Christmas . . . but we each knew the other one was there, safe and sound. Now . . . the miles between us make the times we do see each other more precious.

Amen.

(224)