I haven't had much time to fluff things and tweak my decor lately. I did do a little job on the Hoosier cabinet. That's my great-grandparents on my mother's side, Annie and Martin O'Toole, in the picture. I am named after her.
I used to keep both of the cabinet's doors closed until I saw some wonderful blogger who had a similar cabinet open for display on one side. No, of course I didn't write down whomever this genius decorator was. I wish I did, because I love the results.
My sister gave me that sweet set of spice containers. Helen, my grandmother, had a set of spice containers just like this over the top of the stove. I have more of them in another spot in the kitchen. I had such a good time working on this!
As I edited this area, I noticed that I had spoken of my grandmother in the present tense, as in, "Helen has..." I corrected that and changed has to had. Wishful thinking, but I can see her right this minute standing in front of that stove with the old-fashioned spice bottles, making creamed chipped beef with a big, wooden-handled spoon in her hand, chatting away. The kettle is bringing hot water for tea to a boil for her proverbial "nice cup of tea". Ginger, the marmalade-colored cat, is perched in the copper-lined dry sink, green eyes missing nothing.
My Dad is sitting at the breakfast nook, reading the Hartford Courant as orange-red maple leaves drift past the kitchen window. I can hear blue jays and crows crossly calling out to each other in the tree out back. There must have been a Saturday morning just like this or perhaps many mornings which now exist only inside me. I'd give anything to be sitting waiting for creamed chipped beef on toast in my grandmother's kitchen this morning.
I feel sure that when I get to heaven that's exatly what Helen will be doing. I sure hope so. I miss her.