monique

Woolgathering
2004-07-09 15:17:20 (UTC)

Blueberries, Aprons and Memories

The boys are gone and John is back at work so again, I have
the house to myself and have gone back to my normal routine
of household chores, gardening, knitting and quilting. I'd
usually add baking too but there are still a couple of
slices of cherry pie left and ice cream is nicer on a hot
summer day so, no baking. I'm usually up by 5 a.m.
and if I'm lucky I'll get a short nap in the afternoon

I'm leaving all the Fourth of July decorations up for the
rest of the month, partly because I don't want to have
the summer stuff out for the rest of July and then all of
August and partly because I'm too lazy to do it. I love the
big sunflower that Jessica gave me on John's birthday. It's
sitting out in a large glass vase with stones at the bottom
to hold it up, front and center, alone on a glass topped
table in the living room. It makes me smile every time I go
by it.

The blueberries are almost ripe--I'll check today when I go
water the garden. If they are I'll pick them. They have
netting on them but birds are clever and will still get to
these little treats if I don't get them first. Blueberries
are my favorite of all the berries. It's the first thing I
can remember eating. I was three and-a-half and my mother
gave me a bowl of blueberries with brown sugar and milk. I
had a little kid sized wooden table and chair in the corner
of the kitchen and I can remember stitting there, eating
them. I'm going to be very, very disappointed if there
aren't any blueberries in heaven!

I've also been thinking about aprons. I'm on a quilt list
which discusses ways of using up fabrics. The idea, of
course, is to use up the fabric we have so we can go out and
buy more! I probably couldn't use up all the fabric I have
now if I lived to be a hundred and quilted and sewed every
day (which I do). The discussion the last few days turned
to making aprons. More specifically, it turned to the
question of whether or not aprons make acceptable gifts. I
wear aprons and I've made them as gifts. Still, one has to
be careful. I know people who'd think a handmade apron to
be an inappropriate, even insulting, gift. Those who pride
themselves on the fact they don't or can't cook or those who
think doing household chores is demeaning in some way or fit
only for stupid, uneducated people are among them. I don't
know many women like that and those I do know with that
attitude I avoid as much as possible.

I wear aprons when I bake, when I garden and when I hang
clothes outside to dry. They keep my clothes clean so if
the door bell rings, I can just take the apron off before I
answer and there I am, nice and fresh looking. I liked it
when we lived at the country house with its long driveway
which gave me even more time to make myself presentable to
unexpected guests.

On the Fourth of July, John's mother noticed the wooden
cradle I have in a corner of the living room. I use it now
to store quilt tops that are awaiting their turn in the
frame. John made that cradle when I was expecting Jack and
every boy slept in it when they were babies. I especially
remember one cold, rainy, winter night when the electric was
off and I was sitting next to the wood stove, dozing in the
dark. Owen was just a few weeks old and sleeping in the
cradle next to me, covered with a quilt I'd made. Every once
in a while I'd reach down from my chair and gently rock it.
That was a very long time ago.