Wednesday, December 24, 2008
I was surprised to see all these crocheted doilies at one of the recent Christmas crafts fairs. I didn't think anyone did this kind of handwork anymore, and they were very reasonably priced. Did I buy any? Well, no. I happen to have more of these (in these same patterns) than I will ever have any use for.
I remember some of them draped on the tops of the easy chairs at my grandparents' house. And under vases on the mantle. I rarely use them myself, but they remind me of my mother's stories of going to San Francisco every Christmas, where her Danish grandparents lived and my grandmother grew up. Christmas Eve was the time for the main festivities, and smatterings of the old language were sprinkled in the conversations of the elders, surrounded by dark wood floors and oriental carpets and pipesmoke. Souvenirs of the sea captain's travels to every continent were displayed here and there. Woven paper hearts and real candles were on the tree. Is it possible to inherit memories?
I'll be away from my computer soon, making more memories with Mom.