Cajun Corner – Vol.
5, No. 13 – April 7, 2013
Bon
Jour! Welcome to Cajun
Stitchery’s weekly email and welcome to our family.
ΘΘΘΘΘ
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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.
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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