Making Memories

 
Some memories just happen.  Others have to be made.

Another wonderful inheritance I received from my Dad is the importance of doing this and the huge catalogue of memories I have from growing up.  We were always encouraged to experience life - touch, taste, smell, feel - grasp it with both hands.

This is why we ended up hurling ourselves into rivers in Yorkshire in small inflatables and being thrown over rapids, spluttering with exhilaration.  This is why we dug holes in the fields behind our garden and camped out in them.  This is why mum and dad woke us up again way after bedtime because it had snowed and ran laughing into the park opposite our house as a family, tumbling and falling in the deep, glistening whiteness. This is why we turned our hands yellow from picking hundreds of dandelions for Dad's wine. This is why Dad built ram shackled tents from wood and tarpaulin to house "Midsummer Nights Eve" parties, stringing wild flowers and fairy lights in the dusky evening air.

 Sometimes if you don't just do it - do something, the moment is gone and it will never be given back to you. 
That's why last Sunday we packed a picnic (in a hurry!) and headed off for the sea.

The essentials for a Welch family trip of this kind are definitely spare clothes - a full set for each child - because the inevitable always happens and anyway, the fun is being able to let them wade and paddle unrestricted.

I love bundling them up again in fresh clothes and back into a warm car.  This time we stopped off for an ice cream at Whiteways on Bury Hill on the way back (because obviously, there are no icecreams at the beach!).  This provided ample opportunity for Jonny to inspect every motorbike of the possibly 100 or more that were parked up.  The boys are beginning to appreciate this pass time too.  Memories.
I've also been pondering this week about the importance of objects in memories.  There are some objects that I can't ever remember being without - a candlestick holder that was my mum's - which I took for granted as part of the fabric of our home when I was little, but which is now mine, and has a newly appreciated beauty.

I love bringing it out for a special dinner - even though it is cracked and broken.  It's beautiful.
A row of wooden houses made by my Dad for me to paint.

I never painted them, but I love them as they are, lined up along my mantelpiece as a little reminder of the lengths he would go to to support my creativity.
A crocheted blanket made for Reuben by my Sister-in-law.  One of the most special gifts anyone has ever given me - because of the love that went into creating it and the story it grew out of.  It marked a special time.

Love this photo of a very cross Reuben wrapped in his blanket!

Today I received, in the post a beautifully wrapped "Box of Sunshine" from a friend; filled to the brim with goodies to brighten my day.  Sometimes objects - things - can be just the pinprick of light you need!

Never underestimate the power of a random gift and never hesitate to go for it and give one - (even if you feel it's beyond the point your friendship is at).  Creative and thoughtful gifts, given with love are always in order.

Lastly, I had the pleasure of finishing the patchwork quilt for a friend's daughter's wedding this week.  The patchwork itself had been done - all by hand, mostly by my friend Jan, but also by a whole array of other people.

All that needed doing was the actual basting, quilting and edging.  I can honestly say it was a joy to do it - not only because I love doing this sort of thing, but also because I could feel the love in each stitch my machine crossed.  This object was imbued with love - it was literally stitched into it.  To hold something like that for a short time and have the privilege of bringing it to completion is not something you get to do very often and it was.....Heavenly.

I tucked my littlies into bed tonight, littlest without Teddy - who was lost as he often is - but never at bedtime.  I thought I could do it.  I thought I would be able to leave him as I listened from behind the bedroom door to his smallest and most disappointed voice saying "where Teddy gone?"  No, I couldn't do it.  Off out into the garden  for one last look and after climbing into several bushes, found Teddy and was able to reunite the two of them for restful sleep.  Some Things are just too special to be without.