The last post by RS about his dad got Gina and I chatting yesterday on the chat line. We do not always talk nonsense. LOL. We got to discussing how alike our dads were. They too, as Bobs' were familiar with the making do of their day. My dad never went shopping at the local home builders outlet, he went first to the dump. The dump charged nothing in those days to be a scavenger. It was a badge of honor to get something for nothing and find a purpose either then or in the future for the goody one found. Our basement and so called garage were a virtual treasure trove of things that had use in dads' eyes.
We had a family of four and at Christmas during the depression, accepted gladly whatever Santa came up with. My mom would buy each of us three girls our first baby doll. From then on at Christmas we got new outfits for them and of course made in the secret hours of my moms' nights at the radio listening to her shows, after we were lovingly tucked in. Dad made doll furniture, beds, chests, sewed Mat tresses. He had learned to sew at his mother's knee. She was a dressmaker for extra income on the ranch in Oregon.
These were valuable lessons to be learned at the time of our childhood. We learned that labels meant nothing. It was the receiving of a desired toy that counted. If it was lovingly made it was taken care of. You understood the time and love going into the item.
Too often now the children ask for "things" and quickly grow tired of them and discard them for the newly advertised item they see on the t.v. And they are so label Conscious that if it is not what is "in ", it is "out".
Well we kids of the depression and our kids have been taught a lesson that is sadly being lost, improvising and using old to make new. We never heard the term re-cycling. We lived it.
My brothers first bike was one he built with dads help. If one were to look in my garage today it would seem like my dad was still accumulating stuff. My husband, now 77, still is hanging on to things he never will be able to use again. He will not part with them. May have a purpose you see?
But the lesson of the companionship of our fathers and the love in the making of these toys in our past is what we remember the most.
Ahhhh fond memories of the olden days. My true inheritance! The past love and all that went into my days on Summers Lane in Four Corners.
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