Forsythia, in my Grandmother Mary’s crock pitcher. I’m lucky to have several pieces from her kitchen. My favorite is her dough bowl, similar to those featured in Pottery Barn but far more precious, since I know they were her hands doing the kneading. I suspect she even had a little helper kneading in that bowl a time or two…a little boy who left the farm and is now a 67 year old man in San Francisco. My dad.

I never met my Grandmother Mary but I have her name. I have her molasses jug. I have her recipe box. I have her crocks and dough bowl. And as I get a little older, I feel a need to keep these treasures of hers alive, so that her great grandchildren can be connected to that Kentucky farm kitchen and the farmer’s wife who made bread and pies and cornbread.

The same recipe I use, the way my dad likes it.

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  1. this blessed nest says:

    what a touching post! so true about keeping her spirit & things alive with the kids. i feel the exact same way with my things.


    thanks for linking up to the SPRING FLING!

  2. Ginny Marie says:

    Those parts of our past are so important! Thank you for sharing, and for linking up to Turning Back Time! Those forsythia branches look just right in your grandmother's pitcher.

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