Showing posts with label old comforts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old comforts. Show all posts

Sunday, June 1

Simple Pleasures.

It is nice to discover, the older I get, the more pleasure I seem to get from simple things.
The smile of my Grandson, when he comes to visit. The happy smile from my Granddaughter, when I unexpectedly encounter her at the local shopping centre.
The warm & happy huge hug from my son, when he comes to stay, & we collect him from the station.

I love the *Sweety* animal photos that friends send me in emails. I am a real sucker for the happy dog/cat/pet pics.

Perhaps such pleasure denotes the size of my shrinking mind?? haha.

A cup of herb tea, a good book, a patch of sun, to warm my body.

A great fabric find, meters of brights on cloth for a mere dollar!

Waiting for the iron, now that it is washed, & the colour has stopped running.
It will make a sunny back for some quilt, yet to be made.



When I was a small child, I never had a 'Special' toy or blanket. Perhaps my Teddy bear would have been my best friend, but I left it in the garden, & a local dog made short work of it, & my mother told me I was not getting another.

I did have imaginary playmates, but it is not so easy to cuddle or cling to a figment, is it. Not that she seemed a figment, but she was certainly less accessible than reality.

My Brother had a 'Cuddy'. It was a fleecy cotton blanket, they type most babies have. It was just one particular blue & white cuddly rug. It was his best friend, & when our mother used to sneak it into the wash, there would be roaring tears, when he discovered it, with my Brother clinging forlornly onto the corner of it, until it was dry, & could come in off the line. No clothes dryers about in those days!

I am not very sentimental about clothes as a rule, though I have saved some of my babies' clothes. A small dress I gave my granddaughter, thinking she may like it one day.

One thing I am rather sentimental about is an old cardigan I have. It is about 24 years old. I rather resembles a badly wounded, &/or dying old dog. It has a mohair/wool/synthetic composition. It has camouflage colours. Gom gave it to me for my Birthday one year. I had admired it every time we passed the shop, where it had been on display.

The buttons have all gone cracked & changed into a navy colour. One button has come off & one of these days I might get around to replacing it. It is grey, green, navy, brown, white, & cream. It is the colour of lichen.

It is like a type of Talisman. If I am feeling gloomy, or chilly, I get out the old 'ABC', as it is known in the family. There is a pattern in a strip which goes around the fronts sleeves, & back, which resembles the ABC television logo. It is an old Comfort. It is very warm, & even after 24 years it still fits me!
It has been admired by friends, & rellies. I no longer wear it in public, but that is not because of it's condition. It is still in remarkably good condition, considering it's age. No holes, no defects. I throw it in the machine to wash it. Admittedly, it does not get worn every day. It languishes in the back of the wardrobe for most of summer. Yet, every cool day, it springs to mind, as just the ideal garment.
It has been so handy to lend to sad grandchildren, to wrap around themselves & cuddle down. The soft fabric of the knit is so warm & embracing. It is almost as good as a warm hug from your mother.
Cardigan.
Even the very word conjures up 'old' images. Old men in sagging cardigans, with bulging pockets. Old women in knitted lumpy cardigans, with woollen skirts hanging like ropes about their old lumpy bodies.
Who remembers Cardigan Twinsets? Those finely knitted, plain jumpers, with short sleeves, & matching long sleeved cardigans. I remember Kiapoi brand in New Zealand. Fine woollen knitted garments. Reeking of moth balls, since moths loved those fine woollen garments, & so the moth balls were scattered among the folds, to keep the moths away. How they smelt! I think they took them off the market, because they were poisonous- not only to the moths!
This post has been brought to you by gloop, & sticky sentimentality! And niggly winter chills.
Roy Orbison, In Dreams.