The Guardian Angel
Take your needle my child and
work at your pattern it will come out a
rose by and by. Life is like that...one
stitch at a time taken patiently.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes 1867~
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
It's another unseasonable weather day here, the sun bright, the sky crystal clear blue, there isn't a whisper of the wind. I see the leaves we raked still in their mound on the curb, soon to be swept away either by mother natures vacuum, or the city's, my guess it will be the sooner rather than the latter. For next week as we head in to Thanksgiving preparedness the weather will change as it always does here on the North Coast.
I wanted to bake some cookies today, and some are in the oven even now, some are already cooling in the standby for a test taster. I found a recipe which is reported to have been on the original box of Quaker Oats, not the one which is there presently. And since I love all things vintage that is what is in my hearth baking.
The aroma of the cookies is wafting around the homestead, it conjours up comfort and simpleness. I got to thinking as I was baking these up about how to the best of my imagination it would have been to bake around the turn of the century. Different times to be sure. As I hear the construction vehicles outside my door for weeks now as they repair gas lines, hearing the bull dozers, back hoes and dump trucks whirling about the street, my mind drifted off to a time when perhaps a woman like myself, whipped up a batch of oatmeal cookies and pondered what might have been the sounds she heard outside her window on a day like this.
Maybe the laughter of young children, the birds in trees, and a passing horse and buggy or two on their way to town, clip clop, clip clop, or maybe a delivery from the milkman of milk, cream or eggs and butter. Maybe the day was breezy and the freshly washed towels an.d sheets were flappin on the line, and you can hear the "snap" of them flapping.
For just a moment I felt transported back to a kinder gentler America. And the blur of the sounds of the construction, and 2015 were far far away.
It's a nice thought to think about what went on in the day of a homemaker, sewing, crafting ,cooking ,preserving and tending to the family. It is an honorable workday.
spent working with the hands in service to others.
I would be remiss if I didn't include the recipe/link where I found the recipe.
They are Vintage.....they must be good.