In the Fall of each year, I pull out my mother’s scrapbook, so I can display her 1925 Halloween party page. Every Fall, as I take the page from the pile, I begin to think that I have got to do something to preserve these pages. It’s a miracle the pages even exist. This scrapbook was in the attic of our home when I was a child.
In order to explain this story, I have to tell you that I read the book, “Little Women” when I was probably too young to understand most of it. I had found the worn book in the attic, and I thought the title implied that the book was about little girls. I don’t know if I understood much of what I read, or even if I really read every line on every page. All I know, is that “Jo” was who I wanted to be when I grew up (I still want to be Jo when I grow up). You may remember that Jo would go to the attic to write.
I’m betting that her attic was never as hot in the summer or as cold in the winter as our attic was in Arkansas! I romanticized the vision I had of Jo writing her heart away in the attic. I went to the attic, wearing as little as possible in the summer and in my heavy coat in winter. I kept a little spiral notebook in the attic, and for years, I wrote in that little journal. Oh, I thought I was writing a brilliant novel! Wonder what ever happened to that notebook. (Keep in mind, there were no computers then – this may have been the beginnings of my addiction to blogging.)
I also dug in the multitudes of boxes that were piled in the attic, and one of my favorite finds was my mother’s scrapbook. (I still love to dig in boxes at estate sales and flea markets to look for a hidden treasure-is this where it all started?) I looked at these scrapbook pages so many times, the book fell apart. I emptied a small box, so I could keep the separate pages of the book all together in the box. (I wonder if writing in a spiral notebook and looking at old black and white photos in a dark attic are the reasons I now wear glasses.)
We didn’t take as many photographs when I was young as we do “nowadays”! So even the photographs became a source of inspiration for me, as I made up stories about the strangers in the photos.
My love for old
junk treasures may have begun with this scrapbook.
Maybe my hesitation to throw away anything began with this scrapbook.
An invite to a tea party – I do love to join in on all of the tea parties in Blogville. Did that love begin in the attic loooooong ago? Looking through the pages of the scrapbook, I determined that my mother had a lot of friends and a lot of fun while she was in college. Maybe that is the reason that I attended college. (It may also be the reason I did more partying than studying when I went to college!)
Well, THAT was therapeutic! This post started out as a trip down memory lane, but it turned into a trip into the
shallow deep recesses of my mind for some self-analyzing! Now that I know that all of my problems began in that attic, with this scrapbook, I have something to blame for all of those problems, and I didn’t even have to pay for the therapy!
I’m linking this post to Story Tellers Wednesday at A Southern Belle With Northern Roots. Thank you Shannon for hosting.
Don’t forget -- Cloche Party at A Stroll Thru Life on September 17th! Be there, or be square! (Uh Oh! That trip down memory lane brought back some old lingo!)
My dear friend, Cindy, uses a term that I love, because it is so descriptive of what I have done in this post. I have been “heart plopping”. I’ll say it again, if you’ve never visited my blog before, I don’t often heart plop on here, so please come back again some time. A huge thank you to each of you who stick around to read my heart plopping and anything else I might post on my little blog. laurie