The times - they are a changing. ( OK - I
borrowed that line! ) But I'm getting old. And when I was young I remember my
parents Helen and Mickey trying to raise 5 kids. Could I do that myself now -
hell no! But they did it!!! And I'm quite sure I didn't appreciate how they did
it at the time, but I'm older now and have a better acceptance for the daunting
task they were faced with and how they managed to pull it off.
They grew up in a time when you didn't throw
anything out. I can remember Dad adding water to
the "empty" Ketchup bottle to get the last drops. ( He was the only
one that would use it though ) As children of my parents we were granted a different
economic time eventually - one of convenience perhaps privileged and certainly
one that was "disposable".
We grew
up in a time when it was cheaper to buy another of something than it was to fix
the original. The concept seemed good - at the time. But now - the times have
changed again. The concept hasn't - it's still cheaper to buy another of
something, but we recycle now. We can turn plastic bottles into petroleum.
I've
grown fond of this "new" idea of not throwing things out. My
appreciation most certainly goes out to those who have kept what was important
to them. I like passing it down from one
generation to the next in the hopes that it survived the possibility of getting
tossed out, not because it was cheaper to buy another one - but because of the
history behind it.
I like
and enjoy collecting antique furniture. I like to think about the different people
that have previously owned it, that it was a "fly on the wall" and
has its own stories to tell. And one day - it will be able to tell a chapter of
my life as well. Perhaps it will catch me pouring just the tiniest amount of
water into an "empty" ketchup bottle and it will remember me writing
this about my father? I'm getting older and yes the times are changing.
The radio
in the picture is a new "guest" to my home, and the needlepoint was
done by my Great Grandmother Margaret McRae who died July 10, 1886. Perhaps in
another 100 years they will whisper stories to someone else.
Thank you
to Earl MacDonald, a guest blogger, for writing this article.
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