Post-holiday Reflection and Gifted Additions to the Stash

My Christmas was wonderful. I got up early in the morning and walked the dogs in that magical time just when kids are starting to wake up and shake their parents awake. When we were little, my sister and I used to jump on my parents' bed, then sit impatiently at the top of the stairs until Dad had decided it was a decent hour to get out of bed. :) While I walked the dogs, I imagined similar things were going on in the houses I passed by. There is nothing quite so magical as Christmas morning for a child (especially when it was pretty much guaranteed to include a box full of books! my favorite gift every year...).

I went to my parents' early, and we opened gifts, ate breakfast (I brought over oranges and squeezed fresh juice), watched a movie from someone's stocking, and basically hung out until my dad's side of the family got there. Then, we had dinner. Yum.

I am incredibly lucky, and I received several really great gifts, including a Pier 1 chair (for A and me) and tickets to see Lady Antebellum. One of the little things I got was an ornament my mom made me, and I thought I'd share that here. She always gives my sister and I an ornament that symbolizes something important from the last year. Sometimes they require explanation, but this one definitely didn't. :)

The other thing I got that you all reading this will be interested in was a box from my grandpa. My grandma died quite a few years ago now, but he's been holding on to her stuff, probably hoping to find someone who would appreciate it. He gave me her sewing machine a while ago (my dad is fixing the cord on it, so I have yet to actually see the machine, but I have the table in my sewing room), and on Christmas, he brought me a box. I didn't really know what to expect from it, and I was pretty surprised. My grandma was a quilter, but I guess I didn't realize just how much non-quilting sewing she did. She had three unfinished projects in the box. The first was an apron with an eyelet skirt and floral bib.

The second was the expected quilted pieces. I'm not a quilter or even an aspiring quilter, nor am I a big fan of brown, so I'm not sure what to do with this.

The third was an A-line skirt with those cool diagonal pockets set into the side seams that I don't know how to do. :) It's pretty wrinkly, but you get the idea. I wouldn't have chosen the fabric, but it's all cut out and ready, and it looks like it'll fit me, so I might stitch it up and wear it in honor of her.

There was also a fat quarter of blue flowers on ivory and a couple yards of a heavy tan and brown fabric I can't identify.

  

And then there was the box within the box.

Yup. That's the box I put my gift for my grandma in when I was in 3rd grade. I had a little trouble with spelling, but at least I got our names right! :) And just in case she couldn't tell what the object I'd given her was, I labeled the inside of the box lid:

Now, you should know that I have a terrible memory. Like, notoriously bad. My first memory is of walking down the hall toward my bedroom and realizing halfway there that I'd forgotten what I was going there for. Yes. You read that right. My first memory is of forgetting something. But I remember those hot pads. When I was in 3rd grade, my dad made 36 little hot pad-sized looms for my class. Mrs. Roy taught us how to weave on them with yarn, and I remember thinking that this was the coolest thing ever. The 3rd grade class made a little woven quilt out of them, and it hung on the wall in the school library. I loved making those squares. So much that I'm pretty sure I made a "hot pad" for everyone I could think of. It makes me want to take up weaving!

Because this is already quite the long post, I'll just finish with a photo of what my grandma kept in the box. At some point, I'll share some photos of the other things of hers I've gotten from my grandpa, and the details of what's in this box. It's nice to use the things she left behind, to be able to connect with her in this way.