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The Apron and Other Musings

I began writing this post several weeks ago.  Before the world seemed to go topsy-turvy.  Before social distancing.  Before we had to search for basics such as bread and milk. Before all the other changes that have occurred to keep us safe and healthy.

I know many of you are like me.  We draw comfort from our Heavenly Father, our friends, loved ones and things from the past.

I watched The Quiet Man the other night and one of my favorite lines in the movie occurs when Mary Kate Danaher explains to Sean Thornton the importance of things. "Ever since I was a little girl, I've dreamed of having my own things about me", said Mary Kate Danaher.  I can relate to Mary Kate. There is something so comforting about having our things about us, especially during uncertain times. I find there is a calmness to mixing up pie crust in one of my mother's cast off bowls or sitting at my grandmother's dining room table working on my Bible study. Her table serves as a writing desk in our reading room.  I think Grandma would have liked the re-purposing of something so precious to her. Thinking of my grandma brings me back to the post I began composing several weeks ago...The Apron.

She walked into the kitchen and donned her apron.  It's her everyday apron, the one she turns to first. It is soft and faded from years of washing.

It has wiped tears from her child's eye after a fall from his trike.

It has served to quickly dry her hands as she answered a knock at the door or refereed her boys at play.

Her children have played hide and seek under its folds and have pulled on its strings as they guide their mom through a game of horse and buggy.

It has been covered in flour only to be dusted off again to hang from the kitchen peg.

Her hands have reached deep into the pockets.  She knows how to move her hands back and forth giving a crazy sort of life to the apron. She and her boys dance around the kitchen to their favorite Christmas jazz song.  The apron flaps around and seems to keep time, while sweet giggles fill the kitchen. They call it the Apron Dance.

It has held a toddler securely to a chair when a booster seat was not available.

It has been tied around a two year old as he helped his mommy make chocolate chip cookies, smiling for the camera with his apron on and a big chocolate grin.
She turns and looks at the underside of the apron, observing the straight sewing lines made by her grandmother as she pumped the foot pedal of her Singer sewing machine.  The same sewing machine that now sits in the reading room and serves as a side table.
She thinks of her sweet grandmother who donned the apron long before she ever did. An image begins to form in her mind of her grandmother.  She is wearing the apron and her hands are thrust into her biscuit bowl as she prepares breakfast for her family. Oh, the many biscuits this apron must have seen.

The soft folds and curves of the apron have been tied to the waists of three generations of women. The apron protecting their day clothes as they prepared nourishment for their family. It's amazing how a few pieces of dime store cloth, sewn together on a Singer pedal sewing machine, has the ability to evoke such strong and precious memories. For that, she is thankful.

Wishing you Blessings and Good Health,
Lynda from Still Woods Farmhouse


  1. Beautiful post! Thanks for sharing.

    1. Hi Sandy! Thank you so much! Trying to get back into the swing of things. I miss my blogging community.

  2. How lovely---! This brought back so many memories...baking, homemade gravy, hanging clothes out on the line and endless apron pockets of clothespins. I still have a tote of my grandmothers aprons..daily and company aprons...and her perfume wafts in the air with a mixture of soap, lavender and vanilla. Sigh---lovely thank you for jogging my mind of better days!

  3. Lovely. Thank you for evoking comforting memories, especially in these sad days.

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