Friday, August 8, 2008
I loved trawling through those rooms. I would disappear for hours just treasure hunting and eventually trounce downstairs with gems for my grandmother to catalog and identify. I can even remember asking her if I could have certain things when she died.
Anyway, after she died we spent weeks cleaning it all out and we probably threw away much treasure with the trash just to get through it. I did save a chest filled with quilts that drew me in. Even at 23, I loved the idea that people had made them, that they had a history, a heritage and a connection to my grandmother.
Grandma never quilted. She was a knitter. And a collector. And I loved her fiercely and I still miss her all the time. Grandma Kingsley and her magical junk rooms.