This was where my grandparents lived when I was a little girl. It was an old-fashioned apartment building with only two units on each floor. There was dark brown linoleum in the halls and on the stairs. It overlooked Byrd Park. That’s the edge of the lake you can see on the right.
Grandma watched me a lot until I was almost 4 because my mother would work with my father as his bookkeeper. That’s when I first learned to watch soap operas! Many years later, it was one of the activities we still had in common and when I worked near her apartment as a married woman, I would go over there for lunch and we would watch soaps together.
One of my clearest memories of this building was Halloween the year I was dressed as an angel. Just getting over there in my big cardboard wings was a production. Then I had to climb the stairs. I must have been about 5 years old but it was an adventure. I was allowed to knock on all the apartment doors.
Halloween wasn’t the big deal it is today and the old lady across the hall had no idea anyone would come to her door. She gave me a whole box of Bridge Mix. For you young people, that was chocolate covered nuts and raisins that ladies would put out in a pretty dish when folks came over to play cards.
A sunny day in late fall
I love the shadows in this little fall landscape and the little animals she tucked here and there. She probably looked out her window to the park to sketch it.
Some pictures she drew looking at postcards. Her oldest son collected stamps and he often bought box lots of postcards to salvage the stamps. Of course, many of them were the same and he had no use for them. When I was about 10, he gave me a huge box of postcards, most from the early 1900’s. Many were simply addressed with a name, city and state. Hard to believe they were delivered, isn’t it? One of these days, I’ll share some of those with you.
Mount Vernon
I’m pretty sure this came from a postcard or magazine. I don’t think she ever visited Mount Vernon. If she did, it was years before she started embroidering. My grandfather stopped driving in the early 1950’s.
Natural Bridge
This is my favorite of the ones I have at home. I love how dimensional the hole in the rock looks. It hangs at the foot of my stairs so I see it as I come down. It never gets old to me.
Thanks for looking and taking this little walk down memory lane with me. I promise to come back to the 21st century next time!
Quilting and Other Passions 