I don't know why...

...I feel comfortable sharing my hidden shame with my blog readers out there. Some of you are complete strangers(at least you are strangers to me, but you actually know way too much about me and my fam, anyway, thanks for taking the time to read), but most of you are people I admire and love. People I admire so much that I would be embarrassed to make these confessions to you in person, yet I feel so at ease in spilling the beans on the internet. I think there must be a sick psychological reason for that, but if you know what it is...don't tell me. I enjoy thinking I am sane and I would prefer to spend my remaining years thinking it's everyone else that is crazy(but not any of you...no...I know you are completely as sane as I am).




...but here I go again, telling you about another one of my secrets, another confession that Martha Stewart would have a hay day with.  




It actually began almost 8 years ago when mother moved in.  She brought some of her things with her, including her china hutch filled with her things and her grandmother's china.  Since she moved in with us, I have removed everything several times a year from her china hutch, dusted and then put everything back.  She and I usually did this chore together...because it is a BIG chore.  I meant to do it at Christmas time, but I was too busy taking care of her to think about tackling such a big job.




...so as spring fever hit, I knew it was time.  I got up Saturday morning with a "Can do" attitude.




...so I jumped right in.




...as in jumped right in after Saturday morning soccer games and Saturday cleaning chores.  I put it off until I had gone shopping, swept the front porch, played on the internet, read the Church News, had lunch, made Sunday dinner and stowed it away in the fridge, told my sweetheart what a great job he did mowing and edging the lawn(I try to make a big deal out of this because the psychologists tell you to encourage good behavior, WAY TO GO HONEY) washed, folded and put away 2 loads of laundry and had my day's helping of chocolate. 




...and then I jumped right in!




Obviously the semi-annual cleaning of the china hutch is something that is easy to procrastinate.

I pulled everything out...well...pulled is probably not the right word.  I, ever so delicately, removed everything before dusting the shelves.  I cleaned out the cobwebs, kitchen remodel dust and stuff that has been placed in the china hutch until I found a better place for it(and for some of it, I filed it away in the garbage can).

...and then the fun started.  Yes, it was fun to touch and clean the things that my mother cherished, and now I cherish.  Her grandmother's pin cushion, the door knob to the original homestead, a dog shaped, glass medicine bottle that sat in my grandmother's window, my maternal grandmother's high school graduation vase and the beautiful China that I remember using at the dinner table as I sat next to my great grandmother eating her pickled beets.

...and now I have begun adding my own cherished treasures.  In the back is the commemorative plate from Dodge City that Erin and her mom purchased for me and the green platter D. got me for favorite things, which is sitting behind the navy blue plate Shay bought me on one of our grand adventures in Maine.  Of course, my collection of marbles is front and center, divided by color, because I love the rainbow effect.

You can see my grandmother's china.  They are the plates that we used for holiday meals in her home.  These are probably my favorite...love the yellow edge circling the shafts of wheat.

I spent about 4 hours removing everything, dusting and wiping and placing everything back.  Each piece reminded me of family, especially the women, their faces woven in my memory and their laughter echoing in my mind.  The navy blue ceramic pitcher would have been filled with the cold sweet water from the windmill and the serving bowls held more than my grandmother's butter laden mashed potatoes.  They are imprinted with the faith of my ancestors who believed a family meal was a joyful time.




As a child, I don't remember every seeing a pan on the kitchen table.  For each meal, even a simple family breakfast, my mother and my grandmothers brought out their platters and serving bowls. Then we did something that a lot of families don't seem to do any more, we passed the bowls around the table(I'm ashamed to admit that I have been known to make Matthew fill his plate from the pans still on the stove, rather than dirty another dish).   And since this was before the dishwasher era, each piece then had to be hand washed and dried with brightly embroidered kitchen towels.  There was no such thing as Tupperware, plastic wrap or paper cups.



...and again I marveled at the honor I feel having stewardship over these objects, which are of little value to the world, but, oh so treasured in my life.




I will pull out one of the sets of china for Father's Day dinner in a few weeks and then carefully place them back having created more memories for my grandchildren and my daughters, who will one day inherit what remains from my life.




...so I ended the weekend feeling p-r-e-t-t-y proud of myself.




Yep, jumped right in and got'r done.






..................






...now all I have to do is clean the curio cabinet(big sigh)...




...so I'll jump right into that job next Saturday...




...or next fall.