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« SOMETHING FABULOUS IN THE MAIL | Main | Where is Waldo the Hermit Crab »

October 23, 2008


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beth williams

when we were sifting through mounds of what had been my grandmother's belongings, items she had moved, selected and kept as she and my grandpa downsized and downsized and downsized; I wonder if the items I wanted and took with me are things she would have not given a second thought or if I ended up with something she treasured. I guess we know the things she treasured. It was such a process to weed through her home and wonder if we should sell, give, or toss the things that belonged to her. I have a wooden bowl that sat on her counter with bananas...I wonder who got the cardboard tube with rubber bands she saved from the newspaper.

Maija Lepore

I know how dear your grandmother was to you- what a wonderful treasure!

Nancy Jamar

Amy: Thank you for opening that window into your soul. I have some wonderful memories of my great grandmother and the mysteries and treasures that abounded in her house. There was not an inch of floor, for instance, that was not covered in an intricate layered system of hand-braided rag rugs, but the thing I loved most was the collection of miniature things that proliferated on the window sills in the sun room and through out the house, for that matter. Any thing small, diminutive, tiny, cherished...found its way onto the ledges and sills that lined the house. We never tired of looking at them all, and to this day, I have a small but treasured collection of tiny things that resides in my laundry room, housed in an old soda crate from my grandfather's garage. A porcelain dog conducting his choir, tiny brass hose nozzles, wire baskets, and my collection of celluloid twins that celebrate my own twin-ness with my brother. Gawd, have I gone on and on! Thanks for dredging up those memories, though....hugs from here, Nancy

Penny-Elizabeth Neil

What a beautiful story. I have a similar one about my uncle, who (like my Dad) had a fascination for tiny things, of which he has a box full.

When I was 17 and entering art school he said to me 'what sort of art are you making?' and I told him box assemblage, with found objects. He went inside, fetched out an old cigar box and said 'look through there, tell me what your favourite thing is.'

So I sifted through all these wonderful tiny treasures and eventually settled on a silver Buddha no bigger than my thumbnail. He smiled and said 'The last time you looked through that trinket box you were 7. That Buddha was your favourite then too.' And he gave it to me.

Your story has reminded me of this, and of the hours I can while away sifting through my father's (still growing!) collection of 'odd bits'. He and my uncle gave me the 'tiny treasure' bug.

Romy Tam

I adore it! What meaning such little things have!!!!

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