18 October 2010
My grandmother died several years ago.
Even though we did not live in the same part of the country,
we corresponded through letters.
I practiced my writing skills on her.
I do not claim any ability to write interesting letters,
I only know that I can make them "newsy".
Bless her heart,
she probably spent hours trying to decipher my handwriting,
my train of thought,
or what all those little hearts and drawings
along the side of the paper meant....
recently my Aunt, in charge of settling the estate,
let me know that she would like for me to have
a desk that had belonged to grandma's family.
I really didn't expect that at all.
I was flattered and more than a little nervous
about what it would look like,
where it would go....
All apprehension vanished when I saw it.
I loved it.
And then I started to explore the inside...
and found that the shelves hidden behind the curved glass door
rested on pegs.....most of which were missing.
Yeah!! a trip to the hardware store
(a secret pleasure of mine)
Found the appropriate sized pegs,
and some wonderful polishing oils
and then home for more exploring...
and once I was sure the shelves were
and the exterior wood was shiny,
and found this...
very old scissors,
a sweet little Swingline "Tot 50",
a newspaper clipping with
a photo of a very similar desk,
and two pieces of wood that appear
to have been broken off of a piece of furniture.
I looked this desk over from top to bottom,
and do not see any missing pieces...
so, I am pleased to know that
this desk was used regularly,
held onto bits that needed to be kept.
The best part of
my exploring happened when I realized that
when I open the front
in order to retrieve a letter,
or write one,
that it still retains a whiff or two of my