HeartRocksHome

Kisses collected and home again home again riggedy jig

Precious precious grands...

It is impossible to take a bad picture of this little one, who warmed right up to Grandma...what a treat, you are precious Miss Sarah Anne.

and this little guy who can ride a tricycle so fast he can keep up with those on bicycles. I love you Mr Mini Daddy...

And what fun to be with these angels. I love you A and B.
Isn't this the best picture of Birthday girl 'flying' off to school?

Have I mentioned - we have amazing grandchildren. And they are so lucky to live with a Momma and Daddy that love them to pieces.
Thank you for the good visit kids....
And then, coming home with every emotion..already missing these littles, anxious about all that awaits us at home, we saw this on from the plane window -

and promise, cross my fingers - hope to die -- stick a needle in my eye, (isn't that saying, confusing? Like all those nursery rhythms about wives living in pumpkins, and boughs breaking with babies aboard) anyway, the end of this bow was right over our home. I truly feel like I am so blessed that the "pot of gold" is right here - right over our lives.

Thank you dear Heavenly Father from blessing us. When you are with the ones you love, heaven is right where you are. We've been in heaven.

Pleasant Days

Noteworthy advice from Grandmothers Book:

"Mark on your calendar with a red pencil such days as have brought happiness or opportunity and even in the most quiet of lives as time goes by on the calendar will show a surprising record of pleasant events."
Indeed.
Enjoy that 'old world' terminology. Enjoy that thought. I am marking with a red pencil those days, 'such days as have brought happiness.'
Grandmother didn't have talk show hosts with guest authors  blah blah blahing about, finding yourself, or going off on some trip to connect with your 'inner' self, or a book to teach about being more self absorbed and selfish. Just a little reminder to count your blessings, look for the pleasant events. Perhaps some good sage advice to follow even in this day with a plethora of information  at our fingertips.
What brings happiness to me today? Or better still...what could I do to bring happiness to make this day a pleasant event for someone else?

I quite like old calendars. I quite like anything old. Especially cute-little-old.

What a conundrum! or Good Heavens, is there a doctor in the house?

Regardless of any bad experiences we've had with the medical profession. Oh, I know we all go to a doctor we are dissatisfied with from time to time or leave a doctors office scratching our head, thinking, "What did he/she say?" or  "I paid good money for THAT?"
That is not the conundrum; conundrum - anything that puzzles, I know, you know the meaning of the word - I just needed to say it in more than one way..conundrum? puzzled?, there I said it even twice more..oh..I could say it like ten more times and still feel - well, puzzled?
The conundrum is which is worse the 'rupture' or the cure?
Remember I suggested that I'd like to try all the recipes in this great old book my great grandmother made? No longer baby...there is no way - not even a chance, given that the book also contains

Remedies.
That's right fellow friends of all things vintage. Remedies. Vintage. Remedies.
As politely as I can say, this is snake oil. Remembering the book was put together in the late 1800's early 1900's and penicillin wasn't even widely available until 1926, I guess snake oil was a welcome chance to feel better, get cured, be done with it.

So now without further dilly-dallying, filibustering, postponing here is the cure for rupture, and by the way, I think I know what is meant by rupture - but let's just leave that to each person's interpretation. Spelling it out at this juncture may be a bit untoward, if you know what I mean.
Rupture Cure - exactly as written in "My Grandmother Made a Book".

Rupture Cure -(requested) --Boil fifteen eggs hard, remove yolks and cut them up and put them into spider. Put over a slow fire and stir constantly gradually increasing the heat. It will soon dissolve into a creamy looking substance which as the fire grows hotter, turns brown and looks like coffee grounds. Stir rapidly all the time. It will smoke and smell terrible and you will feel sure it is burned up but keep at it patiently and after a while it will dissolve into a black oil. Strain and bottle this. Apply this oil every night, making sure the rupture is back in place. Every morning make a healing salve, made as follows. Mix together a little new unsalted butter with one quarter as much beeswax and after melting  add a few drops of oil of spike. This is very healing and prevents the rupture getting sore on the outside. This treatment is to be continued three weeks or more. I have used it with good success on ruptured colts.  Mrs C.R. Powers, N Dak
Another conundrum - whether to laugh myself silly reading this or feel sorry for our ancestors who had no other medical help.
A conundrum indeed.
I also read a great little blog post about something similar. Oh, ladies and gentleman. I have to say thank you for the corner WalMart and modern medicine!

Oh, to crochet for the Queen of England

Well well. According to the comment from Mom on the post. 'Grandmother Made a Book,' it was ACTUALLY my Great Grandmother. I didn't know that. So Grammie made the book and it was passed to the middle of her three daughters, my Grandmother, Mary Ivy (Hilda) and then passed to my mother who was actually her daughter in law, and then to me. Because Hilda had two sons and no daughters we were lucky enough to have it come to us, if she had a daughter, no doubt she would have received it.
Sounds like a little genealogy waltz, doesn't it?

Grammie had a real name and it was Lilian Fernleigh Gent. Isn't Lilian (yes, it had one L) a beautiful name. I always knew her as "Grammie" and her husband was called Pops.  Her daughters were Mable, Mary Ivy, and Nellie (Usillia on the Ellis Island immigration site, [although I never heard her called anything but Nellie] - do you know about that site? You can search, for free, the records of those immigrants who passed through Ellis Island - very interesting, if you like to dabble in that sort of thing - and I guess part of liking "cute little old"..is liking to dabble in that sort of thing.)
Grammie was born in England in 1877 and came to America in 1909 when she was 32. She lived until 1966 in Idaho. 
Grammie did crochet work for the Queen of England, at least that is according to family lore, and if that isn't correct I don't want to know because that just sounds so thrilling. "Yes, my Great Grandmother crocheted for the Queen of England."

I do know for absolutely sure her three daughters crocheted. We are talking unbelievable beautiful crochet. My Grandma always had her crocheting with her. She carried it about in a little round vinyl/ leather tote with a hole in the top for the thread to come through. The thread was often times as fine as the thread used in a sewing machine. The stitches even and delicate and the pattern memorized and executed with the  precision and skill of a master artisan. Bedspreads - tablecloths and dollies a plenty.

Now from the fragile wonderful 100 year old book....

Always Remember
That careless methods of buying, hastily planned and hurriedly cooked meals, and a waste of the leftovers, are the first causes of many discouragements and bodily ailments, and that the secret of preventing these troubles is to banish the notion that domestic work is drudgery, and to wake up to the fact that the housewife by no means occupies a position of secondary importance.
It was under the grim necessity of meeting a persistent food shortage mid the ravages of the old war that the inventive genius women developed the art of cooking to the degree of perfection for which they are famous.
So there you have it dear readers...we are to banish the notion that domestic work is drudgery. And I guess if I compare my life to my great grandmother, in the early 1900's, it isn't...and perhaps picking up needle and thread, after carefully using those leftovers, and making something lovely, is the very secret.

My Grandmother Made a Book

She was a tiny little thing. She is standing on a step and still much shorter than Grandpa. This photo makes me laugh out loud. Grandpa ALWAYS looked so startled in photos. Every. Photo. I don't have one of him that looks any different than this. Perhaps it was because in the early 1900's everyone wasn't living their live through a camera lens like we do nowadays and taking a photo was startling.

When only ten years old and Grandma and I stood 'bumsey' I was as tall a she. She never took off this necklace because she had a scar on her neckline from goiter surgery and this necklace discretely hid the scar. She was born in 1900 and lived until 1966. She always wore a jersey dress. Always. There were dress up dresses and everyday dresses. Everyday dresses were worn even when fishing with Grandpa. A dress. Always.
The book she made is newspaper clippings, hundreds of newspaper clippings, pasted into a Geography book.

The clippings cover a wide variety of homemaking topics. I find them fascinating and informative. They were printed during a time when everything wasn't disposable. 

I always thought that one day I would glean from them - then test in my test kitchen each entry  and publish a new book. A really wonderful one that would look vintage and have delightful calligraphy and nice little whispy vintage drawings in the corners. The paper would be quality smooth paper, with a few blotches and stains to give the feel of authentic, tried and true, trustworthy advice.
Until that book is put together and published, I am sharing bits of wisdom from it. I will post them under the category "Grandmother Made a Book", so they can be easily found and read.
Oh, and her name was Mary Ivy which is such a beautiful name, however, she was always called Hilda. *see my puzzled look?*
"Save Apple Parings for Jelly" (exactly as written with no correction for spelling or grammar - like I could correct the grammar?)
When paring apples for pies or dumplings cover the parings with cold water, puts them over a slow-fire with a few grains of salt boil until soft, then mash or break them up with a spoon; when tender put into  a fine strainer and let drip until all the juice is out of the skins; then strain through a piece of cheesecloth and to each half cupful of juice add a half cupful of sugar that has been heated in the oven on a plate; stir until the sugar is dissolved and boil for eight minutes. If the apples are red-skinned the jelly will be a deep red. It takes little time and trouble provided it is done while getting a meal, and it can be done at any time of the year.
Peach parings are used in the same way, but if peaches are very ripe the parings will not make a stiff jelly, unless mixed with apple parings. They will make a good bottle of sirup to be used for hot cakes, waffles, or sauces for puddings.