Hmmmm....

I'm one of those people who have always looked at those people who post their thoughts on the web and said, "What are these people doing? Are they NUTS!!!" Well, it appears that I seem to have joined their ranks. I'm not sure how long this will continue but we'll just take it one day at a time.

I think the thing that turned it around for me is when I saw an article on Yahoo this morning about older bloggers. Me, I always figured it was the teenyboppers that were doing most of the blogging--or people who wished they still were... Imagine my surprise to find out that there are authors out there considerably older than me! ...and lots of them!! I took a look at some of their sites and was really impressed.

One thing you should know at the outset--if you're looking for posts on religion or politics, you're gonna have to go somewhere else Growing up, I was always told that those were two subjects that were better left private and never contributed to polite--or positive--conversation. I figure there are enough of those types of blogs out there already.

I've found that, in the last year, I've started thinking more about how things "used to be". Not that I'm lamenting their passing, for there's no going back and progress is inevitable, but because so much has been lost that could enrich our offspring. There's so much that our children and grandchildren will never fully understand because they have no point of reference. Okay, so I guess I am lamenting their passing, in a way...

There have been many times that I wished I had a draincock (download port for you young folks) on the side of my head so that my memories could be given to my children--and now my grandchildren. I always felt that if my kids could see my experiences through their own eyes...as if they were there...then maybe they'd have a little more empathy for what makes their mother the looney toon that she is. But there's not just that...but think of all the great things we experienced when we were young that would enrich them.

Like the smell of my grandmother's kitchen... I still remember that smell and she's been gone for many, many years. She was a farm wife and my grandfather had built her cabinets. She didn't have the abundance of cabinets that housewives feel are a must in their kitchens now. She had two upper cabinets and one long base unit that ran along the West wall of the kitchen--the equivalent of two double-door base units with a single door cabinet on the left side of the sink. The double sink was on the left side of the base unit and a window was situated over that. The breeze used to blow through that open window and the curtains would billow just a bit as the wind shifted.

Do you remember the smells from your childhood? I do... She must have had something going on under her sink because it had this pungent odor. Of course, part of that was because they were on well water. I never really cared for the "under the sink" smell, but I remember it. On the South end of that cabinet, attached to the wall, was the first wall cabinet where she stored her dishes and glasses. These were just the everyday dishes and over the years the glasses and dishes had become a mishmosh assortment. You could stand there and wash dishes, put them in the drainer, dry them and put everything away without ever moving. The silverware drawer was the first drawer next to the sink just on your right.

The cabinet that I really loved the smell of, though, was the other wall cabinet that was situated over the top of the base unit on the West wall. I can still smell the aroma of all her spices mingled together as you open the cabinet door--cinnamon, cloves, sage, and pickling spices. That cabinet always smelled the same. Once in a while I'll be somewhere and get a whiff of that aroma and it'll bring those days back to mind with startling clarity. I loved opening that cabinet because of the aroma. You could even smell it faintly when the door was closed, but there was nothing quite like the fragrance hitting you full in the face when you first opened that door.

I have to give my grandfather credit--I loved her countertop. You have to remember that these were the days when nothing really went to waste. Her countertop wasn't tile or formica (which hadn't been invented yet) but was red linoleium flooring with white and black streaks intermingled. You would not believe the delicious biscuits and dumplings, and noodles that came off that cabinet top!! ...ah, but that's for another time because the real world beckons...time to go earn my insurance premium...