Monday, April 10, 2006

Hack Silver

Memes have died and been replaced by Contests.
Miss Snark's just finished last week ( no, I did not enter - too busy.) Konrath did one the week before, and Jason is advertising a neat one.
If I don't have these links right, please see sidebar.

Tanya has a question up about psychic experiences. One of Carla's posters uses "remote viewing" to provide details for her novels.

Odd, the things a question can pluck out of one's memories.
It was the summer I was eight, playing in the orchard behind the house one hot, lazy Sunday afternoon, building grass huts for my white and yellow cat, Puff, and feeding him grasshoppers.
I hear a vehicle and had the sudden image of a gold-coloured car pulling in the upper entry of the circular drive. Aunt and Uncle had a gold-coloured car.
I raced up from the orchard and skirted the woodshed in time to see a gold-coloured car pull into the upper end of the drive - exactly as I had seen about a minute, two or three minutes, before.
Odd things.

There's a ridge along the border somewhere between our countries called Skidaddle Ridge, named for generations of evaders of prohibition laws, game wardens, conscription and the like.
Not all used it to evade.
After he and his borther survived WW1, a man from the area moved to the US and took up farming.
A son flew B52's in the USAF.
Another generation of that ilk served in the Gulf War.
Yesterday I opened an e-mail to find one of the fourth generation died in Bayji, Iraq, on Thursday.
172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team.
He was 21.
"Through the twisted tree of family line, how constant is the theme of soldiering, solidified in blood and bone..."
What's a border?
God keep.

The Button Box

She liked the sound they made.
The slippery, slithering pebble sound when she dug out a handful and sifted them through her fingers.
Buttons from Grandma's button box.
All kinds of buttons.
She spread them out on the sofa beside Grandmas's chair and tried to match them.
Jet and glass buttons, bone buttons, wooden buttons and silver ones, and brass ones with shanks.
Some of the white buttons had a sliver of irridescence remaining from the shells.
Some didn't.
Those were ivory, Grandma said.
A hundred years of buttons. Maybe more.
Grandma was very old.
Other things were buried among the buttons.

...to be continued.

23 comments:

Jay said...

That's a lovely collection of story telling.

Bernita said...

Thank you, Miss Jay.
I must say your "residence" post brought back a few memories too.

Savannah Jordan said...

Bernita~

It's as if you reached in and stole a memory from me. I used to do the exact same thing with my Grandmother's buttons. I remember the pitted feel of the old buttons, remember liking them better because I could feel the history in them...

Thank you.

Erik Ivan James said...

I enjoyed especially the "button box".
My sister has a large box of buttons that belonged to our mom, her mom, and on back to the "old country."
There may be some collector's value in that box, but who cares. It will next pass on to my sister's daughter then on to her daughters.
Thank you for bringing back some nice memories of my own.

Dennie McDonald said...

I love the name Skidaddle ridge!

nice reads this morning....

Lady M said...

Yep - reached into my brain and stole the cherished memories.

Yannno. I don't keep buttons, because I don't sew.

*you wouldn't want me to, I end up sewing whatever I'm wearing to whatever I'm sewing*

But I think I might just have to get some buttons to hold out for when my kid has kids. That is a very fond memory...

That and going through all of my grandmother's jewelry. She would let me sit for hours and hours playing in it - looking at it.

It was enticing - intoxicating and just wow!

Thanks for the memory stroll.

Hugs to you B!

Spinetingler Magazine: Online Reviews said...

It is weird what triggers memories. I often think our childhood recollections are both the sharpest and the most suspect.

Sandra Ruttan said...

And yes, that was me.

Doing code updates and forgetting what I was signed in as.

Bernita said...

Yes, Lady M, the jewellery box - and the old trunk too.
Thank you, Dennie.

Without doubt there is a collector's value, Erik. So nice it's being passed on.

Not stole, Savannah - shared, buttons hold together the fabric of memory.

Bernita said...

Possibly, Sandra.
I find the snap-shot images vivid, but the continunity, the sequence of them unclear.

jason evans said...

So vivid. What a potent metaphor for lives.

BTW, thanks for the mention!

Shesawriter said...

Bernita,

Have you had other instances of precognition before? That story sounds eerie.

Bernita said...

You're welcome,Jason, my son.

Since?
A few, Tanya. Clear snap-shot if something incidental. A sense of blackness/black cloud if the approaching event is "bad."

I prefer to explain these occasions as an instant computation based on the coalescence of subconscious clues.

Sela Carsen said...

You have the most unusual, facile mind, Bernita. And yes, God keep the family that soldiers on.

Bernita said...

Thank you, Sela.
You understand.

Bonnie Calhoun said...

What a wonderful way to put stories together! I also like that they are to be continued!!

The buttons....I have a old-fashioned sewing basket with a lid (full of buttons) that belonged to my great-grandmother and was handed down through each generation...and now it's in my care.

I remember as a child, laying them out on the table and trying to match them up...some groupings are still held together with the string that I strung them onto as a child.

What a great memory to have brought to the forefront of my thoughts!...Thanks for the memory, Bernita!

Bernita said...

Endless fascination, Bonnie.
How nice you're the one to have Ggrandmother's button box, too.

Gabriele C. said...

I have a nice button collection, too. Among them some genuine silver ones - I had one made into a brooch and two into a chain-connected fibula which I use to attach my shawls in winter.

And some from my g-grandfather's WW1 uniforms. The WW2 stuff ended up in the Werra river in 1945. ;-)

Bernita said...

I really like the idea of making antique buttons into brooches and fibulas.

Sandra Ruttan said...

Yes, the continuity is unclear. That's what makes them suspect. I could have sworn one memory was from a specific house and going back years later, the layout wasn't at all right. But the impression in my head was so clear.

Anonymous said...
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For The Trees said...

I had dibs on my grandmother's button box and all her knitting needles, put my name on it and everything, and my mother gave it away to some charity because she didn't want her oldest son to have such feminine things. That button box meant a LOT to me. But, so goes the lottery of life.

I told Sherry about this once and she cried at the injustice. That was long ago, though.

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