IF IT BELONGED TO AN ANCESTOR, DON'T TOUCH IT OR USE IT!

As a child, I was raised on fear: "Don't touch that. You'll break it and it belonged to Aunt Marion." "Don't sit in that chair. It's really old." I could make a list of things I was told not to touch or sit upon that would be a mile long. It got so that I had to avoid this or that because I knew what the consequences would be if I broke or damaged something valuable or inherited--grounded for life!

As you've read before about my grandparents' house, you will remember that I wrote that it was full of objects like that and I was told NOT to touch things; not in a nasty way but a stern way.

At my house as a child and onward, it was the same.

My mom was a stickler for inherited things not to be touched or used: You just looked at them.

I had more than my share of looking at them. She was not a collector of anything except one collection of small dainty tea cups and saucers. No one ever drank out of them and no one ever touched them. When her mother died [my grandmother,] she didn't choose much to take to her apartment but what she chose were inherited pieces of lovely china and the like. And where did these things go? In her china cabinet to be looked at and never used.

On my part, the things I got from my grandmother's house were antique tables, chairs, beds, a a complete set of china that is a service for twelve and antique glassware. By that time, I had two young sons and here I was saying, "Don't touch that chair." "Be careful with the china: It belonged to my grandmother!" Over the years of moving, gathering more things and the death of my mom, I inherited her things as well. And I wouldn't use anything: I'd just look at it or put it away.

As I write this I have had my grandmother's complete set of china for over thirty years. Have I ever used it? No. It is still wrapped up in zippered plastic covers. And that is so stupid. What about my late mom's collection of little tea cups and saucers? Guess what? I use them. A dear friend of mine was so right when she told me to use those antique things and sit in the old furniture for if it breaks, it is not a tragedy. What a revelation that was and so true.

Why do we hang onto old family items if we can't use them or sit on them? Are our ancestors going to  come back and horse whip us? Of course not. It is the fear that was put into me as a child that I had to let go and I did.

I drink coffee out of those antique cups, eat off of ancestral plates [still not that big set of china,] and drink iced tea out of antique goblets. Why not? All of my ancestors are gone. I do plan to pass things down to my grandchildren and have given family things to both of my sons and their wives--just wish that they would take more. Neither wants that big set of china so I might as well get that out and use it; after all, with twelve plates, I could break some and still have leftovers. Same for the cups, saucers, salad plates and on and on.

If you would have asked me ten years ago to use these things, I would have said no. With the passing of time, it comes to the point that you realize that time is getting shorter and either you find homes for these passed down things or just use them and if they break, they break.

My late Aunt Ruthie said it best: "They are just things." She was so right--they are and I have her "things" as well.

Should you be younger and inherit family items, use them for their original purpose and enjoy them. What matters most are family photos, letters and the most special things such as a passed down piece of jewelry--not dishes, chairs or things. Most of all, I sincerely hope that you are not raised with fear of touching or breaking as I was: It's hard to let go of that guilt but so wonderful to get rid of it! Dishes anyone?

Sherry Hill 

 

IF IT'S BEHIND GLASS, IT'S A TREASURE

If you have a curio cabinet or a china cabinet or both, I'm sure you put things in there that you love so you can see it--after all, that is the purpose of having either. But have you ever stopped to realize that some things you have in them are not really treasures at all?

I have and came to the conclusion that there is something "museum-like" when an object is behind glass. Funny how our minds work at times and how we perceive things; an example would be that I actually put two wine glasses in my china cabinet because I liked the painting on them but they each cost only a dollar. And when friends are here they comment on how lovely they are.

Treasures? No way. And yet when perceived behind glass, they take on an air of something precious when they are not. There are real treasures in both my curio cabinet and china cabinet but do I use them? I look at them off and on and yes, I have things that belonged to my great grandmother, my grandmother and my late mother but it is fear on my part of breakage.

People who have open cabinetry show off their prize possessions but they use them I suppose. Still, I wonder where the idea came from in the first place that we must have a china cabinet or a curio cabinet and stick things in there just to look at.

One of life's oddities and something to ponder isn't it?

Meanwhile, I'm going to take a second look at my curio cabinet and china cabinet:  There are many things lurking in there that I haven't seen in forever and they need to be looked at and removed. And some of you readers whom I know just might be the recipients of non-priceless treasures in the upcoming future.

Sherry Hill

HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY!

HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY!

This day, April 1st is celebrated most all over the world. It is a day of trickery and seeing if you can pull a joke on someone! How did this day become a holiday of sorts? Check out snopes.com: You'll find a ton of explanations and some make a lot of sense while others are only purported to be the real reason.

Most believe that the origin of April Fool's Day had to do with the change in the Gregorian calendar which left a day out. But for whatever the derivation of this holiday really is, it is a day of pranks.

When I was teaching, I would always write the morning work on the chalkboard the day before--after school was out. And for the first thing I would write: "Write 1-10,000:" My students would just walk in, look at the board and a look of sheer fright would come over their faces. [It was second grade you know.] Some kids were actually crying until I told them that it was "April Fool's!" That's when the relief on their parts settled in. Did it every year and a lot caught onto the joke while others fell victim to it but only briefly.

My intention was to never make them cry! Honestly!

So wherever you live in this world, be prepared today for a prank! If you live overseas, it is already tomorrow in some parts of the world and you've either been fooled or not. Just don't fall for the one that thousands fell for several years ago: They were told that spaghetti actually grew and was uniform in size! A lot of people wondered where they could buy the spaghetti plants! OH MY!

One more thing: The above photo is not real or is it?

Sherry Hill

THANKS TO YOU READERS



A special thanks to all of you who have been loyal and are reading my posts!

Without you, there would be no reason for me to write constantly.

You are so appreciated!

And this rose is for you!

Sherry Hill

The attribution is on the photo.

MY SECOND GRADERS MEMORIZED THIS POEM EVERY YEAR--"SEA FEVER"



"Sea Fever" by John Masefield

"Sea-Fever"

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.



I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.



I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.



By John Masefield (1878-1967).


(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)



A Bluepete Poetry Pick [Attribution]

Every single year I would start out with one short poem for my second grade students to memorize and by the end of the year, every one of them knew this poem by heart.
Memorization is a skill that is sometimes overlooked and yet it is one that not only adds to "brain power" but is something that when used, stays with a person forever.
I can only hope that teachers have their students memorize poetry.

Every time I was at the beach, this poem would come to me. I could feel John Masefield's words in his truest sense and yes, "Sea Fever" is still one of my most favorite poems ever.

Sherry Hill

THE LIFETIME MOVIE NETWORK OBSERVATIONS

A couple of years ago I was sick and didn’t feel like doing anything except watch television. By chance, I stumbled upon “The Lifetime Movie Network.” And I was hooked. After watching movie after movie, I came to the conclusion that every single movie had similar things going on and so I kept watching to see if there were something different—but there wasn’t.

Here is a list of what I observed and if you watch these movies, I’m sure you will agree.

_________________________________________________________

There is a cast of actors and actresses who always play different roles but trust me, it is always the same ones.

Wealthy people always live in magnificent lofts or mansions: Nothing in between. And their dwellings are always isolated—like way out in the country or in the city near nothing.

Poor people live in shacks or horrid apartments.

There are either wealthy people or poor people: No middle class.

The main character or the one who turns out evil always has an art gallery or is having an art show at a swanky place. Always. And the people in attendance are always drinking wine.

When cooking, a man or woman is always fixing spaghetti sauce and nothing else. And yet when dinner is served, the table is full of food.

All of the adults always drink wine—nothing else ever. [There must be a slew of cheap clear wine glasses behind the scenes!]

A character is either simply divine or a horrid person with a criminal past.

Lavish parties are always given and everything goes without a hitch.

Relatives are either wonderful or simply awful and they stay a long long time.

The villain is usually one who has been nurse and hides a hypodermic needle for usage and when used, the villain knows how to use it with a fatal result.

If a character has a gun, no matter what, that gun gets knocked to the floor and is recovered by a good person—always.

There is always a happy ending which is predictable.

Children are either perfect or demon-possessed—no in between.

Planned trips are always to somewhere divine and costly: Yet no one whines about the expense. Money abounds.

A strange person who is introduced into the story always winds up as a long lost relative.

I’m sure I could expound upon this list as could you. These are just my observations about these movies. Predictable? Of course! And yet I watch them all of the time. Maybe it’s that sense of “I know what will happen” that keeps me watching—it has to be! I don’t drink [except for wine on some occasions] so I use a wine glass for my iced tea while watching and always develop a strong craving for spaghetti. How could I not? It’s the only food that the viewer sees being made –the spaghetti sauce.

If you watch these movies see if you don’t come up with a list similar to mine! And get out that wine glass. After all, you know what will happen!

Sherry Hill

THE BLUE COAT

After just writing "The Trade," I have to tell you this story for it happened the very next year.

My parents made the decision to move to Charleston when I was in the middle of the eighth grade at St. Albans Junior High School: I was devastated. Didn't want to move and leave my friends or the house but a twelve year old girl has no say in the matter. Moving was a blur but my parents and I did move and I found myself going to Lincoln Junior High School.

It was quite a bit of a culture shock coming from a laid-back school and surroundings to a new junior high school. And the kids here dressed far differently--they were more grown-up in dress [not that St. Albans Junior High was that laid back--it was just different and I missed it.] And I had that one straight skirt as I had written about. Over the months, I made new friends and had gotten a new wardrobe and styles had changed somewhat.

Every week in the fall, our school's football team had a game during school time and I remember boarding a bus with all of us crammed inside [there were lots of buses and lots of kids!] and the bus driver taking us to a field in Kanawha City somewhere.

Here I was screaming at the top of my lungs with the other people and it was so much fun!

Even better was that after the game, we were driven back to school and then told to go home.

After a couple of football game adventures, I was having the time of my life.

My parents had divorced and my mom and I lived in an apartment. She still wore glorious shoes and clothes and one day came home with a cobalt blue cashmere coat. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen or touched! I was forbidden to wear anything of my mom's: That point had been proven when I took her alligator shoes for a trade. And yes, I had nice things to wear BUT not a cobalt blue coat. Ever.

I guess I should say that even in grade school when I was a student, we had a half hour recess in the morning, an hour for lunch and we could go anywhere we wanted to and a half hour recess in the afternoon. In junior high school, which is now middle school, we lost the recesses of course but kept the hour long lunch period. Either I went with friends to eat somewhere at lunch time or I went home and if I went home, my girlfriends came along with me.

It was one of those football game days and I had gone home for lunch with my best friend. Who knows what got into me but I took out my mom's cobalt blue cashmere coat and wore it back to school. After all of us got off of the bus for the game, I felt so special in that coat! We were on the bleachers screaming when I heard a rip! I looked at the coat and the entire seam under the left arm had come loose. Horror struck me like lightning. Took off the coat, put it over my arm and can't remember a thing about the rest of the game except getting off the bus and runnning home. It occurred to me that there was a seamstress who lived up the street from my mom and me: She had done alterations on some of my clothes.

I ran like lightning to her house and then realized I didn't have a nickel to my name. But I rang her doorbell praying she would be home and luck was with me! She was. And she fixed the sleeve of my mom's coat and didn't charge me a thing.

Rushed home, hung up the cobalt blue cashmere coat in my mom's closet and kept my cool.

Nothing was ever said about the coat to her: I just couldn't. And I never did even when I became and adult and was teaching. Somehow, I had locked that experience in the back of my mind. In all those years, she never knew and I wish I had told her: It would have been hysterical at that point in our lives. After the trade and then the blue coat, I never took another article of clothing from my mom without her knowing it or anything else for that matter.

My mom passed away almost ten years ago. I have lots of her coats and can't wear them for I became much taller than she. Odd twist of fate wouldn't you say?

Sherry Hill

*This was published in the Charleston West Virginia Gazette