Treasure Chest Thursday: Granny's Biscuit Bowl

Wooden biscuit bowls, also called dough bowls, were a standard household accessory in the kitchens of our ancestors.  Most often these hand-carved bowls were used for nothing but biscuits.  I inherited this one from my mother.  She said it originally belonged to her grandmother and it was passed down to her mother.  I feel so blessed to have this precious heirloom as part of my family collection!  It is probably close to a century old, if not more.  I'm curious about the type of wood it was carved from- it is a soft, velvety wood, or has it become soft from aging?  I would like to one day take it to an antique expert and get more information on it.  I can just "picture" my great grandma standing in her kitchen with her hands in this bowl, turning and kneading dough for homemade biscuits- there's just no telling how many biscuits took form in this old wooden bowl.

Treasure Chest Thursday: A Mother's Love Statue

"All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother"

~ Abraham Lincoln ~

This beautiful treasure was a Mother's Day gift from my parents to my grandmother, Susie Johnson.  It was given to her in the early 1970's.  After Granny passed away, Mom regained possession of it and kept it on display, usually in her bedroom.  I had always told Mom that if something ever happened to her, I wanted the statue.  I was granted my wish.  I don't know why I was always fond of this piece.  Maybe because it reminds me of the tenderness between a mother and her young children and the bond between them.  I now have this nearly 40 year old statue displayed in my bedroom.  

Treasure Chest Thursday: Mom's Antique Italian Vase

I have an antique porcelain Italian vase which was given to me by my mother several years ago.  She acquired it at a flea market while we were living on the westbank of New Orleans.  For many years, the vase had its place in my parents' formal living room.  There is a story behind this vase, one that I'm sure my brother Tony still remembers.

The year was probably 1974 or 1975.  We were living in Marrero, Louisiana at the time and we were about to make to trip to Mississippi to visit relatives.  My siblings and I sat in the car, waiting for Mom who had gone back into the house to quickly grab something she had forgotten.  We could tell when she exited the house that she was angry.  She stormed toward the car and began interrogating us.  She wanted to know how her vase got broken and who did it.  Of course, every one of us proclaimed our innocence in the crime.  Examining our faces, she sought for clues as to which one of us was lying.  It didn't take long for her to figure out it was my youngest brother Tony (the culprit of many mischievous acts at our house).  

She then flung open the back door of the car and pulled Tony out, demanding an explanation from him.  His story was that he and his friend Trey were playing marbles in the hall and one of the marbles rolled into the living room and while trying to get the marble out from under the chest the vase was on, Trey knocked the vase over and it broke.  He didn't know how to fix the vase so he just propped it back on its base.  

Mom then marched Tony back inside the house.  The rest of us got out of the car and waited on the curb in silence.  Mom rarely spanked us and when she did, it was usually a few taps with her house slipper.  For reasons unknown, she usually left the spanking up to Dad.  When Mom and Tony returned to the car, we loaded up and left for our trip.  We sat in silence most of the way.  We didn't want to push our luck because we knew Mom was already angry.  Tony got his butt whipped that day, not because the vase got broken but because he lied about it.  

This little story has been cause for laughter at some of our family gatherings in the past.  To hear Tony tell the story, Mom didn't even ask any questions.  When she realized her vase was broken, she knew immediately that Tony was the guilty one because he was blamed for everything.  She stormed out of the house, went to the car and  literally pulled him through a 2 inch opening in the car window then beat him nearly to death. One would just have to know my brother's comic expertise in telling such family stories- he can tell them with a dead on serious face while adding a lot of humorous sarcasm, sort of like Larry the Cable Guy.  

In any case, the vase was glued back in place and one would have to look at it very closely to even notice it had once been broken.  I have no clue as to it's material worth, but I wouldn't trade it for anything simply because of its sentimental value ;)

Treasure Chest Thursday: Charmed

Several years ago, I acquired a charm bracelet from my mother which, she stated, belonged to my Aunt Bertie Johnson.  The bracelet was made during World War II and the charms are symbolic of that period- hand grenade, soldier, missile, bullet, land mine, airplane, and U.S. military emblem.  

Mom stated that Aunt Bertie received the bracelet from a "boyfriend" who was stationed overseas during the war.  Since Aunt Bertie is no longer living, I can't inquire about the story behind the charm bracelet.  Was the "boyfriend" her future husband, James Moree, or was it someone else?  Mom didn't know.  I know very little about the man that married my Aunt Bertie.  He died when I was seven years old.  Maybe I can get more information from someone in the family at our reunion later this year.