Dreary snow days offer ample time for thinking. Not just about perfectly timing the driveway shoveling, or whether or not to break out another jigsaw puzzle, or how many layers to wear, but about the past.
Yesterday, I made turkey soup (perfect for a snow day), using leftovers from a holiday dinner. When I removed the bones from the broth, I found the wishbone. A wishbone! I hadn’t thought about wishbones forever. When I was a kid, our mother often had a dried wishbone sitting on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. It was one of her secret weapons. When one of us, or two of us kids, came in whining, “I’m bored; there’s nothing to do,” she would whip out the wishbone. “Then make a wish, each of you.” We would each grab an end, close our eyes, and wish. I usually hoped for a hundred dollars. I don’t know what my siblings aspired to because everyone knows a wish that is spoken out loud never comes true. We would tug until the wishbone snapped in two. Whoever had the larger half—well, their wish would come true. But…mine didn’t…now that I look back. I never did get a hundred dollars.
The ingenuity of my mother with little money, no car, no telephone, and a bi-monthly trip to the grocery store amazes me. She was always baking, and candy making, and inventing ways to keep us busy. I especially remember paper dolls and the button box.
Occasionally, for birthdays, we would get a five-and-dime, paper doll book, but most often we folded paper and with Mom’s one pair of scissors cut out our own dolls, coloring them with broken crayons and our imagination. As you can see in the photo, I haven’t improved in the coloring category and one doll always manages to look angry.
And the button box—well, that was better than a barrel full of monkeys. Mom’s button box was housed in a recycled cookie tin and Grandma’s in a chocolate box. You could find all kinds of things in those treasure troves from dusty coins to beads from broken necklaces. Mom, once again in her brilliance, would give us the chore of making a button necklace. Do you know how long it takes to thread a needle through the holes of enough buttons to make even a choker? Like I said, “brilliant.”
The photo for this post is my partial reserve of buttons. Some of them are from my grandmother’s button box. Occasionally, I use one to actually fix an article of clothing, but mostly, I keep them in a mason jar where I can see them and smile.
Button, button, who’s got the button? I do, and a whole load of memories, too.
Loved this! Thank you!
Thank you for your support, Lisa. We all need it.
There is something a bit disturbing about the doll with the purple dress. Just sayin. . .
I agree. I always end up making a doll that looks angry. Alter ego? Thanks for reading my stuff.
We had the wishbone thing going as well! I loved paper dolls but not as much as my mother. She had beautiful old fashioned cut out and coloring books. Buttons too!
Those old memories are so fun,aren’t they?
They are and it’s fun to have conversations about them. It slows us down in this busy, busy world. Miss you here in Montana.
Loved this post. The bus stop was about a block away from our house growing up. Whenever it rained (fairly rare in our neck of the…desert) the bottom of Erburu street would flood. We could have skirted the puddles’ edges and arrived home clean and dry…but what fun would that have been? My ingenious mother started the tradition that if it rained, there would be homemade donuts for snack. (She kept canned biscuits in the fridge in the case of sudden storms – sugar can do wonders.) You could not have gotten three kids home faster, shoes sparkling and bone dry, if you’d flown them. To this day I smile when I look out the window and see rain coming. (Part 2 was frozen pizza dinner in heat waves. Who would complain about the heat if you knew the normally-taboo, ‘junky’ dinner was on its way?…Goodness, just remembered Sunday Sugar Cereals. The only day of the week you could have a ‘sugar’ cereal was Sunday, and then only if you were 100% ready for church. The woman was a genius!) Let’s hear it for flawed, creative, resourceful, loving mothers! And Heide, you did get your hundred dollars, you just had to wait a really long time.
Dear Karin, Thank you for sharing your good Mom memories. I have had so much time to think, reflect and write with the winter being a record cold one and most recorded snowfall ever here in Bozeman. So, it is fun to stay connected in this new-fangled was. You are getting lots of rain, so you better start frying up those donuts.
Dear Heide,
I have a button tin, too. Actually I have two button containers! One is a cookie tin and the other is a shoe box! I did a lot of sewing in my life, now my great-granddaughter is using them while she is living with me. She is caretaking me in my old age, (I am 102!) I also played with Paperdolls. We made our own like you did.
Thank You for bringing back all those good memories for me.
Love,
Joyce
You have a lot of memories that I can help you recall, and that makes me happy! I am so honored to have you as a friend and mentor. Just wait until you’re 103. What will you have to share then?
Hi Heide, this is a test-
I received a notice for this, but it was actually hard to find your comment. Would you email me back on this same email as I want to make sure I could have a dialogue? Thanks.
This is another test
Received this one also.
Oh, how I loved wishbones, my mother’s button box, and the Betsy McCall paper dolls that sometimes came in the McCall’s magazine.I’m so enjoying your blogs, Heide, and the comments that follow as well!
Thank you, Sonia. I am so happy that I bring a little bit of joy to your e-mailbox.