Yesterday was another very rainy day in July - definitely more like October in terms of how you'd better dress to go out! (And picnics definitely better held indoors.)
The illustrations above were made by me some sixty years ago, and are parts of a calendar that I made for my paternal grandmother - presumably either for Christmas, or her birthday. The drawings were in a sort of frame where one could change the picture for each month. (For some reason, three out of the twelve months are missing now, but I assume all were included originally.)
While it's been raining this July, I've been spending some time going through boxes of old letters etc. Reading, sorting, shredding... in order to at least reduce the amount...
I come from a family of hoarders and writers. My paternal grandfather was a journalist with local history as his special interest. My dad was a railway enthusiast who spent much of his spare time writing books about Swedish railway history. In their retirement years, both my parents were engaged in a local history society; and mum also contributed personal memories for the National Museum of Nordic history (in answer to questionnaires).
After our parents died, my brother and I inherited a house full of hoarded stuff - and not least loads of "paperwork". We donated boxes of papers and photos to the local history society, and had a truckload (literally!) of this and that collected by the national railway museum. When we finally sold the house, quite a bit of family-related stuff still came home with me, though. Ten years later, I'm still (periodically) sorting through old letters, family history notes, photos, postcards and other memorabilia...
Through my nearly 69 years of life, I have of course also managed to hoard some similar stuff of my own - even if living in flats rather than in a house of my own during my adult years has set certain limits.
Neither I nor my brother have any younger generation of close family to pass things on to, though. So my aim is to try to keep "organising and reducing", while I'm still able.
It's a slow process, though, because every time I start going through something, I find myself travelling back in time... Whether it's laying the puzzle of my parents' or grandparents' lives before I myself was even in the picture - or reviving my own memories.
Yesterday, I (re)found a pack of letters and drawings from myself to my paternal grandmother (saved first by her, and then by my parents).
The earliest one, I think, is from when I was about 3½ years old. Before I was born, my mum was a teacher for young children. After I came into the picture, she was a housewife with her own baby as her only pupil. It seems she started teaching me to write already when I was around three...
Alas it is in Swedish, so most of you reading this can't fully enjoy my phonetic spelling. But the deciphered message runs: "Hi Grandma, today I've been out playing with Åse and Pia and Amari (=Anne-Marie). I have drawn a picture for you. Monica"
My mum (in an enclosed letter) claims only to have helped "a little"...
To save her mother-in-law from too much headache, she also interprets the drawings: The first one shows two girls (I'd say a mum and daughter!) and a clothes line with washing hanging on it. The other one a nursery with a baby lying on the bed. (Note: My brother wasn't born until I was six. I do seem to recollect having wished for a sibling when I was much younger, though...)
10 comments:
since they make you happy, these old letters I mean, I say keep them. after you are gone it will not matter. Of course you know I keep nothing. I have one letter from my grandad and 2 or 3 cards from early child hood. nothing but a few photos and my dads glasses. we have bob's grandfathers glasses, the old rimless round ones. some museum or collector might want them. do what make YOU happy, life can change in a split second..
you have a gift for drawing, maybe you should take that up and start doing the copy cat thing I have been doing.
Sandra, it's all about going through stuff I haven't looked at in a long time (if ever) and deciding what I find worth still hanging on to, or not. These childhood drawings (and some more) are staying; they are now in a binder in my bookshelf (that I had emptied of other things) rather than tucked away in a box at the bottom of a drawer...
Sandra, I used to draw and paint periodically most of my life. In the 1990s I took water colour classes. What made me "stop" was pain problems in my neck and down my right arm and hand after an accident (2000), including difficulties holding pen or brush. Slowly got better but still have chronic pain problems and need to prioritize.
You have clearly inherited your Mum's artistic talent, Monica! You were still a little girl of about 9 years when you made the calendar pictures for your grandmother, and I think they are really good.
As for phonetic spelling, I did that, too! My sister is a year older and went to school already while I was still in kindergarden. Every afternoon, I pestered her into playing "school" with me - for her, it was a good repetition of what she'd done in the morning, and for me, it was fun learning to read and write before starting school.
My sister and I often spent time at our maternal grandparents' place. We hated it when she insisted on giving us hot cocoa for breakfast - we wanted cold milk straight from the fridge and liked to add as much chocolate powder as we could get our hands on. One day I wrote a letter to my grandpa - in Swabian phonetic spelling :-D
It said more or less: "Dear Opa [German for Grandpa], we love you very much, but only if you tell Grandma not to make anymore hot cocoa for us."
You were a good little artist for that age. And your letters are really good for a 3 year old! And goodness, the first drawings, I cannot draw NEAR this well even now!!!
Meike, learning the mysteries of sound vs spelling is probably tough in most languages... :) One thing I remember from early childhood about my respective grandmothers is that my paternal gm used to make waffles in a waffle iron (and hers were different than my mum's), while my maternal gm (who died when I was six) made tiny pancakes in a special frying pan on top of her cooker (something I never got anywhere else). As for cocoa, I remember liking that both hot and cold.
Ginny, I'm rather impressed myself, looking back at it now! (lol)
Your early artwork and language are great. Do keep them for yourself. So sorry that your right hand is giving troubles, but I'm glad that you can blog at least! I have had to deal with Essential Tremor in both hands for a couple of years...as well as arthritis in fingers. Getting older does have some stumbling blocks!
It certainly does, Barbara...
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