Some years ago, after my grandmother's death, I got a Big Idea. Well, that's what she always called my often crazy, half baked, delusions of grandeur.
I had an idea to showcase a handful of her old kitchen gadgets I came to possess. I originally thought to do a picture of her, some hand written recipes, and one of the gadgets, her biscuit cutter. But, then my idea got bigger.
See what she meant?
Then I decided to showcase a gadget from other equally important loved ones. My granny and aunts from all around. And, my precious mother-in-law.
I beamed on the inside at my vision of glassless shadow boxes holding these dear and daily handled items. Salty tears of equal parts sadness and joy fell because while I couldn't hold some of their hands anymore, I could hold onto something that their hands held nearly every day.
My hands holding the very handles theirs did as they prepared meals to feed generations. My fingers fitted to the cold, smooth roundness of the biscuit cutters that helped me get my belly's fill of chocolate and biscuits. The memories of a childhood that felt like a lifetime using that green handled ice cream scoop. No birthday party was complete without it. The canning funnels that I have from each, my granny and my grandma, that had countless quarts and pints of preserved hard work pass through. These are the kind of memories these tools were made for.
I can hear Grandma's voice once more, "Laurie Ann, what do you want with those old things hanging on the wall? You and your big ideas." Yup. Exactly the kind of memories these tools were made for.
I had an idea to showcase a handful of her old kitchen gadgets I came to possess. I originally thought to do a picture of her, some hand written recipes, and one of the gadgets, her biscuit cutter. But, then my idea got bigger.
See what she meant?
Then I decided to showcase a gadget from other equally important loved ones. My granny and aunts from all around. And, my precious mother-in-law.
I beamed on the inside at my vision of glassless shadow boxes holding these dear and daily handled items. Salty tears of equal parts sadness and joy fell because while I couldn't hold some of their hands anymore, I could hold onto something that their hands held nearly every day.
My hands holding the very handles theirs did as they prepared meals to feed generations. My fingers fitted to the cold, smooth roundness of the biscuit cutters that helped me get my belly's fill of chocolate and biscuits. The memories of a childhood that felt like a lifetime using that green handled ice cream scoop. No birthday party was complete without it. The canning funnels that I have from each, my granny and my grandma, that had countless quarts and pints of preserved hard work pass through. These are the kind of memories these tools were made for.
I can hear Grandma's voice once more, "Laurie Ann, what do you want with those old things hanging on the wall? You and your big ideas." Yup. Exactly the kind of memories these tools were made for.
And, while my original vision won't fit the wall space I have to work with, I think I've come to a compromise I can live with. Only thing left to do now is buy some trim to frame that compromise. Well, and should probably also find a solution to keep them more firmly in place. Oh, and how to wall mount her ancient waffle iron. But, details, details.
Remember, it's not fully my Big Idea unless it's half baked.
Remember, it's not fully my Big Idea unless it's half baked.