A precious kind of ordinary.

You see, I was all prepared to cozy up and write a little something to you last night, but then To Siberia happened to be sitting there, all quiet on the table, newly released in the States, making eyes at me, and the next thing I knew I was lost in rural Denmark and it was 1:30 in the morning. Mister Petterson, once again you have thwarted all my plans. But I forgive you, because of the way you always make me dream of snow. Which is not unusual, because I am very impressionable when it comes to snow. One mention or image of it, and I sometimes have snowy dreams for weeks. I have stopped trying to figure out why. 

Mainly, I had plans to write to you of my Mama's brief visit. We hadn't seen each other since before we left California, and it was so so good, just sitting, and talking over milk and scones and listening to the rain. She is radiant. And her stories. Oh, her stories. I have missed her so much. And I had plans to write to you about the amazing boxes full of my grandmother's things that she and my aunts thought I would like. It will take me weeks to photograph it all properly. What was special to Grandma was often a mystery to all of us. The precious tossed in a box with the ordinary. In addition to her watch (seen in the photo above), sewing and embroidery notions (oh. my. heck.), valuable coin collection, letters from my grandfather, a handmade eyelet dress belonging to my great-grandmother, jewlery and other special things, I also found random flyers, coasters, scissor covers, and a small shaker hand-broom.

I have put it to good use. And think it is all, in a way, special.

So it has been a book day. A book week. Blue books mainly. And ones about candy-covered houses. And also a week for family. And for curling up in front of the fireplace with my boy. And for seeing the Swifts. And for figuring out how the heater works in this house. And for colorful leaf watching (I am being patient). And for trying to rein things in a bit. And slow things down. And for designing a new winter dress pattern (halfway there) that will end the 4 month sewing hiatus. Faraway friends are coming into town this weekend as well, so I apologize ahead of time for my sporadic visits to this space. I am thinking of all of you, wondering what your experience of the new season is like. Is it spring or fall? What do you see when you look out the window? And if you had to toss one ordinary thing in a box with your most prized possessions, what would it be?

All love,

*Andrea

Comments

[shari]

love the corace illustrations so. and yes to the toast and yes to petterson. our store doesn't have it yet though! your mom's visit sounds delightful as does the box of your grandma's things. hope you have fun this weekend friend. xox

[Nadia Lewis]

One ordinary thing? I think the knitting needles in my hands -- well, in my lap as I type -- my Clover bamboo 5 mm circular needles.

[abby]

You must forgive me for not knowing this...but where in California are you from?
I love these photos, so good and so right for the season. Good luck figuring out that heater business!

[lisa s]

so lovely. family and blue books and good stories

i can't wait to see all your treasures [um esp. the notions????]
xo

[Tracy]

I think I'm going to need to have some book time, I am in dire need of inspiration.

[Eunice]

one ordinary thing? a beloved fountain pen, perhaps.
but mostly bits and pieces of yarn i've knitted with.

the view outside my window is green and wet. it's raining and the infamous southern humidity is back with a venegance. sometimes i feel like i am trapped in a war between two weather gods.

[Kelly]

One ordinary thing: probably a tape measure, stitch ripper, or other sewing utensil Yes, probably a tape measure - I've been known to wear those out of the house.

Good question!

[Rachel]

Outside my window, it is unfortunately green- that's one bad thing about florida, the leaves never change color. It is also very rainy, and dark, but the sky is somehow still a brilliant pink and dark grey.

One ordinary thing- I would probably include an old iron doorknob that has sat on my desk for the past few years. Its weight and resilience always reminds me of how older things were made so much better, and stronger. It also makes for a good paper weight.

[.girl ferment.]

i daydream of snow too.
your visit with family sounds lovely.
i would throw brown string in with my most prized possessions.
xx

[emily]

kind of love this post. these are the best kind of days.

[conversemomma]

Outside my window is a darkned street, common, lonely, made magic by my children's footsteps come morning.

I just stumbled upon your blog. I wish you had an e-mail. I would love to talk with you. I'm working on a creative project that will bring together talented women bloggers. I would love to talk with you about it.

Hope you would be willing to e-mail me
conversemomma@gmail.com

Lovely!

[Christina]

You made me think of my grandmother this morning. I miss her and love her dearly. There are days I just sit and go through all the undone embroidery projects she left behind. Oh... she loved books and paper just as though I do today.

Thank you for reminding me of the love.

I'm Christina, nice to meet you.
; )
PS: You have a beautiful blog, hope you don't mind me visiting while I sip my coffee. : )