There is something about technology from a century ago that grounds me….sorry, no pun intend with the cover picture. Once installed, the only thing it requires to run is, sheer will. No electric, gas, propane nothing just a willing and able body.
It also reminds me that once long ago, things were made to last. This disposable society is a jagged edge against a raw nerve in my soul for me. So the peace of things past are multi purpose for me, for my home for my family.
A little coffee grinder is of no significance in this life in the big spectrum of things. But mounted on our kitchen wall it is a connection to the past, a grounding rod that I otherwise would not have. I have no idea of the story of this particular item from yesterday but my mind runs wild with the story behind it. The home it once hung in, the people that used it and the possibility that an ornery old curmudgeonly type may have had it, is rejected immediately. Instead I envision it hanging in the kitchen of a home similar to my own, at least in atmosphere. And…………….
they were a young family, where the sound of the grinder called the children to come and assist. As the the feel of the handle in their hand, turning the wheel and feeling and hearing the sound of the beans going through the grinder was too, a connection of sort for them.
Maybe after the children grew and it was just her and him, she made sure he had a fresh pot of coffee after a long days work.
Maybe the wooden spoon that scooped countless pots of coffee was hand carved by one of her sons when he was younger, a gift for his father.
Maybe she ground fresh coffee in that grinder every morning before he led them both in their daily devotion. At daily time she often would notice the years of work, worry and love on his hands. The strength that comforted her when she saw them rest on the Bible as that seemed often days to be the only time they did rest.
As the two aged and their summer of life turned into winter they would spend countless evenings by the fire with a fresh ground pot of coffee, reliving the past and yet looking forward to eternity.
Maybe, once he had gone onto glory, those are some of the memories she held on to, simple, repetitive, but never common. The sound, the feel, the smell, the taste all reminding her of a life they had lived. Hands gnarled with age and arthritis no longer able to grind, she still thought of precious moments every time she walked by it……….touching it with fond memories or removing the lid just to inhale the aroma to take her, for just a split second, to a time far removed.
Then one day when she had gone on to be in glory to see him again, a part of her life, holding all the memories connected to that simple insignificant object, ends up in a yard sale or an antique auction. With no way for the one who purchases it to know what it really meant.
Its just a coffee grinder, once belonging to someone long ago, maybe they never even used it, maybe they hated coffee. But I know the memories in my family that have been made around this crazy little thing…….children waking up to the sound of the grinding, rushing down the stairs to come “help”. The smell of fresh ground coffee being a memory in RJ’s mind from two decades ago. This daily chore so deeply embedded in his memories it is something he says he never will forget, and he says it with fondness. That memory represents in essence his father as his father LOVES coffee, the start of a new day, that Momma was getting the household going with the clinking of the stove, her and Daddy sitting at the family table with a hot fresh cup of coffee while they fixed the problems of the world before the day began as he came down the stairs. It isn’t just a grinder it is part of our way of life, a way to make memories.
Much more fulfilling then opening a box from China.
I enjoyed that. Thank you for sharing. Almost makes me wish I liked coffee.
LOL, that is funny Cindy. Thank you and God bless!
Lovely! I grew up with what people would call antiques in the house but, they were not just items of decor, we actually used them. I, too, have fond memories of a coffee grinder though ours is a wooden one with a little drawer at the bottom from which comes the freshly ground beans. Old things take on a bit of the spirit of people who loved and used them, I think, which is why I love all the old things I have. I also love that my children know what these tools are for and that many of them belonged to great-grandparents. Having old things also makes me more intentional. You just don’t rush when you are using a handheld egg beater or juicer and I could not sleep in a house where the tick-tick of old pendulum mantle clocks could not be heard. I love all your videos but especially ones which show your lovely and peace-filled home. Thank you!
Yes on the tick-tick of the clock! A must have! This may be over analyzing but on the other hand it may just be part of the bigger picture….prior to the advancements of the Edwardian age I feel that most people appreciated items passed down, maybe mainly because the mass production isn’t as we know it today. Sadly over the last 100 years we have had so many advancement so quickly and producing so many items at unbelievable rates of speed that you no sooner get one item and you are being convinced it needs to be replaced. This is the bases for our society to lose appreciation for the old ways and the old things. We have little to no connection with the past. I truly believe this mindset has also effected the way we react to the aged, it has taken away our appreciation of them because our society has taught us they have nothing to offer us…..That is so sad! I love to hear stories about parents connecting to the past and helping their children to connect, such as your story. It is really a gift to give that to children, it will forever effect their feelings and reactions on “old” things as well with how they deal with people aging. God bless you Dawn!
I grew up in a city suburb but my grandparents lived 3 hours away on a small homestead. We visited them very often especially during the summer months. Grandma cooked on a wood stove, drew water from the well as there was no running water inside, and always wore an apron. When we visited my job was to gather the eggs from the hens but to watch for the rooster. Grandpa, in his railroad striped overalls, tended to the garden and always had a pocket full of pink lozenges to share with me while I helped him pull weeds or pick beans for Saturday supper. Oh, and I was the only child in my first grade class that knew what a chamber pot was. Because of my wonderful memories of my beloved grandparents I have a fondness for less modern things. I like to do things the way my grandmother did and wish now that I would have paid closer attention. My mom, her daughter, is 96 years old and I am always asking if she remembers how Grandma did this or that. Watching your videos and reading your blog helps me go back almost into my Grandmother’s kitchen. Thank you for that. May God continue to bless you in your journey.
Those are lovely memories Pam, you are so blessed to have them! How wonderful you mother is still with you so you can turn to her to help fill in the blanks! Ron’s grandfather died several years ago at the age of 93. Sadly, at that time, we had not spent much time thinking of the lost knowledge he contained, even just of family history. We have since wished on many occasions that we had created a book of questions to give to him,prior to his passing, so he could answer it with his own words and memories of the things we now wonder of and will never know. Thank you for your viewer ship of our youtube channel and our blog. When you said in your comment “watching your videos and reading your blog helps me go back almost into my Grandmother’s kitchen” just made my heart melt! We so appreciate you! God bless you!