grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Old Long Since

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Vintage New Year's Eve Cards
Old Long Since is the literal translation of Auld Lang Syne which means “long, long ago”. Originally a Scottish poem, Auld Lang Syne is the age-old New Year’s Eve song played as the ball drops and the clock strikes midnight. Sometimes I’m awake to witness this event, sometimes not.
My collection of vintage New Year’s cards dates from the early 1900’s. Our neighborhood, Munger Place Historic District, was developed during this same time period. I imagine the first occupants of our home mailed and received New Year’s postcards similar to these.

Vintage New Year's Eve Cards

Folks in 1913 were so well-mannered and sophisticated.

The messages on the back are timeless, the ink still vibrant and clear. The handwriting, cursive and rhythmic, is perhaps the only clue to the age of the post. Cursive is a dying art.
Vintage New Year's Eve Cards
The sentiments written old long since are still expressed today…
I hope Santa was good to you… I hope you got everything you wanted and that the New Year will bring you much happiness… 

Happy New Year!

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.


Musical Pairing:

Auld Lang Syne, Kenny G



the smallest decision

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Last week I joined a blogging group that provides a weekly writing prompt. This week’s prompt is Decision…


It took me all week to decide what decision to write about…

Yes, there are those huge life-altering decisions such as saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to will you marry me? Or the decision to change jobs or buy a home. The decision whether or not to have children.


But sometimes the smallest decisions have the most profound results.

Like the decision to attend a creative writing retreat in Piggott, Arkansas—knowing no one, yet connecting with two ladies who have become friends and writing mentors. 
Pat, Dorothy, Me
Spending an hour wandering through an antique store, looking at Fiestaware and vintage earrings and hand embroidered linens, I barely noticed an old Nancy Drew book. The blue tweed cover had a stain much like candle wax on the front which added to the character. The Ghost of Blackwood Hall. 


I shouldn’t buy any more old books. But it needed me. And I needed it.
This $5 purchase of an old Nancy Drew book led me to its original owner, May ‘Babe’ Brightwell who lives in Maryland. This spur-of-the-moment purchase opened a different door leading to a path with new folks. A family with new stories. (For the original blog story, click HERE.)
Sometimes the smallest decisions…

Wild Christmas Day Hike

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Wild by Cheryl Strayed, my Christmas Day review
I spent Christmas Day hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. An 1,100 mile journey from the Mojave Desert through the High Sierras to Washington State. Technically, author Cheryl Strayed did the hiking, I just went along for the trek, reading her book Wild cover to cover lying on the couch. Although I felt I was with her, I was comfy underneath a quilt. And not just any quilt, my turtle quilt, made by Nana when I was eight years old.

 

As the outside temperature plummeted, I read.  A pounding thunderstorm gradually evolved to snow with quarter-sized flakes, the sort that float dreamily to the ground and pile up all afternoon. With Annabelle curled at my feet, a fire nearby and steaming coffee, I luxuriated in a perfectly peaceful Christmas Day.Yes, Dallas had a White Christmas. That in itself was a miracle.

With no hiking or backpacking experience, Wildis the fascinating memoir of one young woman’s journey to rebuild her self-destructive life one step at a time. She faced intense heat and record snowfall, black bears, rattlesnakes and injuries. Somewhere along the trail, while confronting her personal demons, she found herself.
I was mesmerized.I can’t imagine pushing myself to those limits.

As humans we are rarely alone. Not really. We are surrounded by people and media and music and traffic. But when we are alone with only ourselves, we think and grow.

As I read the book I tried to remember a time I was truly alone. In fifty years the only experience I could semi-compare to Wild occured one day during the summer I spent in Tokyo. I traveled alone to a neighboring village. Changing trains multiple times and never sure I was on the right train, I thought I might never make it back to my group. With only one semester of Japanese, I was inept reading and speaking the language.  I remember sitting on the train surrounded by strangers thinking no one in the entire world knows where I am right at this moment. I didn’t know where I was at that moment. (Before iPhones and GPS and checking-in on Facebook…)
 
It was empowering, although a bit frightening.
talyaGrace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:

Lou Reed, Walk on the Wild Side

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!