Sunday, April 7, 2013

Cajun Corner - Vol. 5, No. 13

Cajun Corner – Vol. 5, No. 13 – April 7, 2013


Bon Jour!  Welcome to Cajun Stitchery’s weekly email and welcome to our family.



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This weekend George and I moved some of Mama’s furniture from the garage into the house next door.  Oh man, the memories are flooding into my head each time I touch a chair, drawer, or any of her stuff.  Having sat in our garage since 2008, all of that furniture needed to be cleaned.  George would bring the furniture in and I would clean it with my Murphy’s Oil Soap.   Oh, that stuff smells good.  Before moving the furniture in, the house was so spacious and I was concerned whether we had enough furniture for the entire house.  It is funny how once the furniture starts moving in the place looks so much smaller.  We don’t even have all of the furniture in there yet.  For months, if not years, we have planned out where everything would go.  We knew that her California king size bed would not fit in any room in that little house.  Now that we are moving things in, we are finding that the furniture we had ear marked for certain rooms weren’t quite the size we had envisioned.  My precious dining room table may not fit where we planned.  We are, however, flexible and have already decided where to put the table if it doesn’t fit.

That dining room table has plenty of stories behind it.  Back in the early to mid-1970’s my Grandmother Theaux and I corresponded frequently.  In one of her letters she told me that she wrote my name under the dining room table and that when she passes that table belongs to me.  I really never gave it a second thought because, at the time, I did not have room for it.  A few years later she passed away.  I wondered what happened with the table because I never got it.  I figured everything had been sold to make money to care for my Aunt Philo and Uncle Dickey.  Years later when I did visit Mama in New Iberia, lo and behold, there was the table.  There was no sense is saying anything, so I didn’t.   One night, after Mama moved in with us, she told me that when they went to remove the furniture from her mother’s house there was a name written underneath the table.  I told her that I knew about that.  She said that she wanted the table, so she erased my name.  Well, I’ve got the table now. 

What’s so special about this table?  I was always told that the table is over 200 years old.  As the story goes, my Great Great Grandmother DuChamp had this table shipped from France to her home in St. Martinsville.  No doubt the table is old and definitely over 100 years old, but I’m not sure how they came up with 200 years old, unless the table was passed down in the family in France and then shipped to Louisiana.  My mother did have a wonderful imagination and could exaggerate things at times.  Nevertheless, I have fond memories of that table at my grandmother’s home. 

While working in the house today I perked our first pot of coffee in the new Cajun Stitchery.  Woo hoo!  Just kind of breaking it in. 

Our friend who was going to help us move Clothilde on Saturday forgot that he offered to assist at a funeral at sea on that day and promised to help move her on Monday.  That means no embroidery work on Monday.  That’s okay.

As I have cleaned furniture in the house this weekend, I keep remembering that I took pictures when we bought the house.  Actually, at the time that I took the pictures, George had already emptied the inside of the house of the clutter.  The pictures were taken so that we would have a before and after comparison.  I’m so glad I did that.  This weekend I took pictures of the inside of the house, after remodeling.  Today, George and I sat down and watched the two slideshows of pictures.  All I can say is that my husband is one heck of a guy.  Except for the heating and air conditioning, plumbing and refinishing the floors, he did all of the clean-up and remodeling by himself.  He began in 2005 and although he finished in 2012, there were 2 years that he wasn’t able to work on the house at all.

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April cold with dropping rain
Willows and lilacs brings again,
The whistle of returning birds
And trumpet-lowing of the herds.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Peggy Henshall
Cajun Stitchery
(850) 261-2462
P.S.  You are always welcome to stop by and look at all of the catalogs and pass some time with me, cher.

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