This post is inspired by a Dyson
bladeless fan ad that I saw in a magazine. I wish I had saved the ad to give
you better visual, but i'll do my best to explain it.
A baby is sitting on the floor in
front of one of these bladeless fans and i believe the caption assures the
mother (who is standing behind) that the child is safe (if he were to stick his hand in it) The ad goes on to say that
this fan removes the buffering sound.
Also, i recently read a blog post
over at Happy at Home about a
clothes line that made me remember being a young girl and the things we grew up
with that have [some] unfortunately passed by the wayside (that will be a later
post).
I had two wonderful grandmothers who
were amazing; Stel (short for Estelle)& Malinda. I love them both so much
and remember quite a lot about them. Both of them were women that er'body knew
and knew their kids.
My Grandma Malinda, oh my goodness,
I remember homemade biscuits...and when i say homemade i mean homemade...a
bucket of flower...a bucket of lard...rolling them on the table with your hand,
cutting them with a glass, a beat up (now vintage) baking sheet...that's the
homemade I'm talking about. This was always a treat for us grands; Granny's
biscuits with her homemade syrup. She'd always have on an apron when cooking
(that's what ladies did then). When I was child I never knew 'that' syrup was made
out of "using what you have" but I tell you, it was the best syrup I
have ever tasted; and I'm now 4---.never mind, but you'd be lickin your fingers
and the plate.
I remember sitting on the front
porch with granny, while she talked with the neighbor ladies and telling the
chil'ren to behave or get out the street. I remember granny singing the Lord
songs, telling us about Him. Granny, thank you!. Now back to this
fan...although i can see the safety of having a bladeless fan, my granny had a
square fan that either sat in the window or on the floor. I remember sitting in
front of the fan going ahhhhhhhhhhhh with your mouth open and the fan breaks
up; buffets the sound. That was plain fun back then yall. I don't recall ever sticking my finger in the fan; probably becasue someone told me not to so I grew up knowing it's danger. I also remember younger cousins coming after me and that same fan; you'd either move the child out of the way of the fan, tell them no...and I know a few spankins' were endowed from touching the fan when you were told not to (makes it sound like a gift huh...hehe).
Imagine the constant
and on beat sound of the blades spinning in the fan....Mr. Dyson, i'll keep the
fan my Granny had. It is comforting. Like sitting next to Granny on the couch,
which I can't recall her doing too many times, instead she'd be sitting at the
kitchen table looking out the back door. But something about the sound of a fan
(with blades) I don't want to let it go.
I remember listening to R&B [or
trying to in Granny’s house] and Granny said we can't play that devil music in
her house. I remember my Aunt Rose's room. She'd tell us not to go in there
messing with stuff, but you know kids don’t listen.
I remember Granny poppin us with the
belt or fly swatter or a shoe if we got out of hand. and trust me it was only a
pop because she'd tell our mom and dad and then they'd really get you.
I remember always one of my aunts
would press my Granny's hair, guess they took turns. I can see her kitchen
clear as day, i can actually see the entire house. I'm thankful to have that
memory; mom driving us over to Granny's and we'd run up the sidewalk and open
the screen door. Her home may not have had the best of things but what it did
have was the best of Love; as it should. I could go on and on but my Grandma
Malinda, but I want to tell you about my other.
Grandma Stel, I just called her
Grandma, was the sweetest grandma. I love her and remember the ways her hands
look, her smile, her love, and fussing with my uncles who thought they were [as
old folks say] growner than them. I loved spending the weekend at my grandma's.
My cousins lived across the street from my grandma and I remember going over
their house sometimes to play (Tan, Deb, Lando). This side of my family calls
me Peaches. It would have been my birth name but thank God my mom did not let
that fly. I love the name as a nickname, but not to have to put it on a resume.
I remember there was a store behind
Grandma's house and I remember my aunt or someone bigger having to walk me back
there. I also remember being big enough to finally walk by myself. Back then,
everybody knew who you were and there were so many kids outside playing, you
were always accounted for.
I remember spending the night at
Grandma's and getting to sleep with her. I remember one weekend, my Dad and I
went over and I decided I wanted to spend the night but had not brought
clothes. I played outside and before going to bed I had to take a bath. I
remember Grandma making me sleep in a pair of her white cotton underwear. I
remember lying in bed next to her and feeling like I was the best day I'd ever
have.
I remember Grandma's caramel cake, a
3-layer cake with homemade caramel sauce; can you say sugar high. I'm sure when
I was a child I could not entire an entire piece; even to this day I cannot.
Thank God, long before my grandmother passed I asked her for the recipe. It's
written on a piece of yellow legal-pad paper with stains and a few tears, but I
will be sure to pass it down just as is to my daughter. I remember being in
Grandma’s bed and the headboard faced the window; I’d stand on the pillows and
look out the window.
I remember Granny fishing, which is
why I don’t like fishing to this day. This fishing woman would be up before the
chickens. It had to be 4 or 5 and we headed to or at a fishing place. She’d put
the worm on my hook. I remember the last time I fished; it was with Grandma and
a hook got caught in my finger. That was it yall. I DO NOT FISH!
One day sticks out in particular
about visiting my Grandma. My dad and I had gone over to my Grandma's and they
were sitting at the dining room table talking. I'm sure I had done something
because my dad spanked me. I can remember to this day, it was a half-hearted
spank because it didn't hurt physically me but hurt my feelings. My grandmother
looked over to my dad and told him, "don't spank that girl." That was
the last spanking I've ever gotten from my dad. Good thing, because my mom does
not, never did, and won't ever agree to that. My dad even remembers it.
I remember the powder my grandmother
wore. Sometimes I smell it when someone walks past and it reminds me of her. I
remember the smell of her house; I remember my dad saying something funny and
she'd go, "Oh, Sonny" and laugh. It's amazing the things that get
etched into our minds, the sayings and feelings of love that have been imparted
to us by our family. I want my grandkids and great grandkids to know that they
come from a tree filled with women who through adversity, hard times, setbacks,
celebrations, joyful reunions, and "life" have given so much to their
families and when it's all said and done, have truly made a difference in the
lives of us who loved them.
Wow God, I know you fore knew me, even
before any of these people knew me...you knew me, but you must have loved me terribly to surround me
and grow me up with two God fearing women who loved and worshipped you, who
called you the Great God, Savior, Master and I know they bombareded you with prayer; mostly for us. They showed us how to be strong, be
kind, treat people right, praise you, to persevere...God, they set the bar high. My mind wants to
tell me that I could never match their faith....constant prayer...unfailing love, but the Holy
Spirit reminds me that You've used because they wanted to be used, to remind me that all things are possible with God, and that
they've shown us grands how it's done. It's our time to walk in the God Blessed
Legacy of these two women. I truly thank God for having two loving
grandmothers.
With much love....because it was freely given to me.
