WORDY WEDNESDAY – A Christmas Story About A Photo
Since this is Christmas Eve … a renowned magical eve … I figured my photo post for today would be exempt from the usual wordless state of posting. This is because without the accompanying Christmas Story, the photo would have no meaning at all.
Let me begin by saying that my mother was the original Mrs. Clean. In other words, her house never was dusty or out-of-order. This was a miraculous feat considering she was raising three sons. But every Christmas she would begin a full house cleaning that would take an entire week. This always started with washing all of the windows in the house … inside and out. Taking down and washing all curtains and drapes and then ironing and rehanging all of them. Washing and waxing all floor surfaces, and then cover the now clean surfaces with newspapers. (This was back when newspapers were printed using hot type instead of today’s offset printing and the ink did not rub off or smudge any surface that the paper touched.) And finally ended up by dusting and polishing all wooden furniture with Old English Scratch Remover/Furniture Polish.
I am not the housekeeper that my mother was, and occasionally I don’t get around to washing the dinner dishes until the morning after. But I usually do attempt to keep a somewhat bachelor-style tidy house. (Mlle. Renee is the one who always leaves her toys lying around on the floor.) This year I decided to give the house a first class mom-style cleaning from ceiling to floor. And frankly, I wore myself out doing it. I had to empty my new super-sucker vacuum six times just sweeping the wall-to-wall carpeting. (Mlle. Renee has big dirt catching paws.) To complete the cleaning process, I even went into the basement to look for mom’s bottle of O.E.S.R./F.P. — and surprisingly not only was it still there, it was still usable!
So I brought it upstairs, found an old cotton sock and started working on mom’s antique dark stained end-table. (I know it is antique because it is three years older than me.) Since I hadn’t polished the table in a number of years, it took a lot of work to bring it back to full luster.
In a place of honor on the table there are two historic mementos. The bride and groom from the top of mom and dads 1937 wedding cake, and the picture of my mother that my dad carried in his wallet for over 25 years. Mom took it out when he died and carried it in her prayer-book. When she died eight years ago I took it out and put it into an antique picture frame and added it to the table as a tribute to her. Yes, I guess I’m just old-fashioned and sentimental.