Honor

One of my favorite people in the world moved into her new house this weekend, and passed on this hutch:

I'm in love because it's pretty, it provides desperately needed storage and it makes me feel like a grown-up. I normally wouldn't clutter it up so much, but it's Christmas, and there are lots of knick-knacks requiring temporary homes.

This new piece means that I got to unload a kitchen island we have had since forever. While cleaning it out, I found some treasures.

My late Grandma Neuhaus, when she wasn't racing down the mountain roads of her native Colorado, crafting brooms in the family broom factory, or raising three boys and my mother, took time to sew and cross-stitch. My mother passed these pieces on to me awhile back.

I ask you, WHY NOT have whimsical apples in veils and top hats?

Why NOT stitch a flower into a dishrag?

In a life that was filled with so much hardship---two difficult marriages, war, The Depression, meager finances, and poor health---she made beauty out of the daily artifacts of her life.

I don't know if she was a good cook or if she made a beautiful home---come to think of it, I really should ask my mom---but I do know, that as a product of her times, she probably felt a bit boxed in by life's expectations.

I have no doubt that she was smart, and talented, and full of hopes. But yet, she did not have the opportunity to go to college or travel the world. Instead, she lived her life, and found beauty in kitchen cloth, a needle, and thread.

My favorite piece is this:

It's a half-apron, hand-stiched. It's so very Donna Reed, that when I wear it, I long for modest high heels and a billowy skirt.The pearls go without saying.

I love that Grandma Neuhaus's apron was worn by her daughter, and now me. Every time I wipe my hands or dust it with flour, I honor her practicality, her spunk, and her eye for beauty.