Friday, May 26, 2017

Ode to the cigar box. . . .

I have been going through some old cupboards of mom's over the last few months, with her.
Had have come up with many fun, historical, hysterical and interesting finds.

One item brought back many memories, The Cigar Box!

 We use to ask at the old '905 Liquor Store' when ever dad took us in.

At least that's the one I remember asking for them in. There were probably others, but that's the one that sticks out.

I came across this one this past weekend.

It must hold treasures, right!
 This is a view of the contents.

An old clipping that a friend of the family had written about her memories of living through the 'Battle of Britain'.

An old Scotch tape container, which held other things.

A Lucy from 'Peanuts' ornament of some sort, made of wood. Unknown age.


And a letter from my uncle Alvin, who served in WW2 and passed away a few days before Kennedy was shot. We were in the funeral parade when we hard about the assassination.

I have not read it all yet, I think my cousins will like a copy, but for some reason it was written to my mom to give to my aunt.

It's not always about what's inside as much as finding something new/old to explore.

Do they still make cigar boxes?
I wish they did, I would get some for my daughter to explore when I get old.

What do you keep your treasures in?

Friday, May 19, 2017

Ah, imagination, it's a good thing.

 We had to go up to Shelbina for a funeral a few days ago. My daughters great grandfather passed away.
During the lunch after wards the kids got to hanging out with the Preachers daughter (always trouble right?).
She wanted to show them this old house in town.

So off they went.

Being a small town, and the preachers daughter, we let them go off on their own for a while (15 year old cousin with them, the responsible type).

After they had been gone, well, long enough, I set off to find them.

I met them coming back, at which point this gave them a reason to go back. To show me.
 Once a grand place it is now pretty well to far gone to save.

They convinced themselves that at one time it had been part of the underground railway.

And who knows, maybe it had been.

Older cousins of my wife said they had heard the same when they were kids.

The roof line and brick work are, or were, beautiful.

With porches painted white, at one time it most have been one of the nicer homes in this small town.
 This doorway under a side porch was where they decide the slaves at one time hid.

From this view you can almost imagine how nice it once was.





















In contrast, this house completely remodeled and kept up is only a few doors away.