grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Does a place have feelings?

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I wonder if a place has feelings.

Does she know we are leaving soon?

Someone new will walk her creaky floors,

sleep beneath her protective eaves.

Her wood moldings gleam.

Sunlight streams through her stained glass.

She is planted all around with flowers and shrubs,

years of devoted tending. Inside and out.

I hope she is excited.

A new family brings

renewed enthusiasm. Energy.

I wonder if a place has feelings.

Will she remember us when we are gone?

 

stained glass 5119 Worth Street

5119 Worth Street, beautiful stained glass

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

“A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.”
― Joan Didion

Musical Pairing:

Taking You With Me, Daniel Tashian & Mindy Smith

Leaving the Lake. Leaving Munger Place…

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Lake Norfork morning

This is our last morning at the lake. The early sun breaks pink through the fog, and the entire view from our porch is ethereal. We’ve enjoyed a great week with family in one of our favorite places. Lots of laughter. Too much food and drink, but that’s part of the fun. I’m ready to be home.

Home.

The word has a different meaning to us right now. Worth Street, our beautiful historic home in Munger Place, won’t be ours much longer. John and I have decided the time is right to sell. Our plan has always been to move home to Arkansas, and this will get us one step closer.

I am excited about this change, yet I will miss Worth Street and Munger Place. The house, neighborhood, friends, the convenience of fabulous grocery stores and Tex-Mex around the corner, my Promise of Peace garden.

More on this later…

For now, we are ready to be home at Worth Street.

Worth Street. For Sale.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

“Life is a blank canvas, and you need to throw all the paint on it you can.”
― Danny Kaye

The magic of Home Ec class…

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The last time I was home on the farm, I found this black and white photo of my mother. On the back she had written made brown dog in Home Ec. junior high 1954. Ahhh, the magic of Home Ec.

See the brown dog on the shelf behind her bed?

Vintage Barbara Creecy

inscription on back of photo

Then I noticed the brown dog in the guest bedroom (the room my sister and I once shared). I don’t remember ever having seen it before.

vintage stuffed dog

The Bat Cave contains many treasures.

Sweet!

This reminded me of my own Home Ec class in the 1970s. At the time, I thought it was pointless and even tried to take shop class with the boys, but Momma and Daddy wouldn’t hear of it. Home Ec turned out to be one of the most enjoyable classes at Keiser Junior High. During that one hour a day, we learned a bit about cooking and sewing and a lot about ourselves. In a room full of girls without the distraction of cute boys, the hour felt safe and easy. Our young teacher was approachable. There was nothing we couldn’t ask; no topic off limit.

I never learned to sew, nothing more than a straight seam anyway, but I still remember the special time we spent together in the Home Ec kitchen and classroom.

Home Ec is now considered passé. Like cursive writing and hot cafeteria food and the Pledge of Allegiance, so many things have disappeared in favor of progress or technology or political correctness. Gradually. No big deal. Until it makes a big difference in our society.

I say bring back Home Ec.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:
Tim McGraw – Back When

 

 

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!