Friday, November 12, 2010

It's the Little Things. Really Little Things.

My kitchen is old, the sink is scratched and the counter is cracked in places, but the little sliver of stainless behind the faucet gleams! (Not germane to this post, but the splash wall is an example of my faux painting. I hand-painted it to look like a lighter-colored version of the faux marble counter, and Bon Appetit is what my mother always said before we ate—just like Julia Child.)

R E M E M B R A N C E — There are certain things that happen on a daily basis that bring me right back to my childhood. Like cleaning the kitchen sink and its surround. Like not worrying about the crumbs on the floor, Huh? Allow me...

Growing up in the family I did was an interesting experience to say the least. Because of some events that happened to me at an early age, outside of my parent's control, it was apparently deemed better for the tiny me that I spend less time around my older brother. I had a second "home" with my mother's sister, my aunt Hoohoo and her husband Bill, who just happened to be my father's brother. My mother and Hoohoo were half sisters, spoke to each other several times a day on the phone, and were as close as could be. They were also oil and water, lol. I wouldn't be the person I am today without both of their ample influences.

Hoohoo and Uncle Bill lived about 1/2 mile away in the family home of Hoohoo and my mother. Hoohoo never met a spill that she didn't mop up immediately, a Revere Ware saute pan that didn't get its copper bottom polished every single time it was used, and a wallpaper book full of colors and patterns, flowers and stripes she didn't fall in love with and order too many rolls. My mother, well... let's just say that my mother's interests didn't really include housework or decorating, rofl. My mother was an RN, she set up health insurance plans for migrant workers in the 1960s in our town, set up Well Child conferences in their early years, and even after retirement from the Visiting Nurses, continued to see her elderly former patients almost every day. But housekeeping? Well, this Amish saying on a trivet on the kitchen wall said it all: Our house is Clean Enough to be Healthy, and Dirty Enough to be Happy (and yes, that same trivet is on MY kitchen wall as I type this).

While my mother always loaded the dishwasher after dinner, Hoohoo always did her dishes by hand. At Hoohoo's, I learned the fine art of hand drying the silver, drying each porcelain dish one at a time, top AND bottom, and never holding two wet crystal glasses at the same time in my little hands. Hoohoo always said that if "we" weren't good enough to use the real silver everyday, who was? At home, I learned the 5-second rule about dropped food (and I learned NOT to pick it up at Hoohoo's). At home, we used whatever dishes were on top, whatever silverware was clean, whatever glasses didn't have something caked on them from the dishwasher, lol. I learned that dry crumbs on the floor will eventually be stepped on making them smaller, and they'll be fine like that until they're vacuumed up over the weekend. Or next weekend. At home, I learned that there was more to life than wearing an apron and making sure every thing was perfectly in its place every single minute of every single day. That's not to say Hoohoo didn't have a heart or didn't help out friends, or that my mother was a slob, let's just say they tempered their spirits in different ways. The little Gemini Casey, the little straight A Casey, the little damaged Casey, absolutely excelled in both environments.

But there were occasions I made sure each woman wasn't too "stuck." Sometimes I insisted that Hoohoo and I go up in the attic and "explore" the dusty old stuff up there before every piece of cutlery was put away. And she did. Sometimes I would insist that my mother clean her Revere Ware with real copper cleaner before she turned the kitchen lights out. And she would. And sometimes I just had to do stuff at home by myself, lol, knowing that I was being a pain in the ass to my parents, but also knowing at that early age I wanted things a certain way.

So how does all of this relate to the opening of this post? One thing that really bothered me about our kitchen sink at home was the area behind the faucet. There was an area about an inch wide between the faucet and the wall, that always seemed to trap dirt and debris. My mom would run her dishrag over it,  a million things on her mind that needed to be done RIGHT NOW, but that little sliver rarely sparkled, there was always SOMETHING that could be wiped away. There were times that I would sneak into the kitchen and take some wadded up paper towels and slowly glide them back and forth in that little one-inch span until it gleamed as stainless steel should. That little one-inch area became my little "thing" that I attended to at least once if not twice a week, for the entire time I lived in that house. I have no idea what my mom thought about it, I'm sure she noticed it, but I always gave her plenty to think about in other ways. I'm sure a little extra cleaning on my part was one of my easier idiosyncrasies to live with, lol.

I think about that little stainless steel sliver behind Mom's kitchen sink every night now after dinner and it makes me smile. I wash up the few dishes/pots/pans I've used and put everything on a towel to dry overnight—my own time-saving habit, lol, and I'm glad I don't have a little child learning THAT. The last thing I do is wipe down the counter and then rinse the stainless steel sink and the surround. I have that same damn one-inch area behind my current faucet and the splash wall behind it, and I clean it every time I use the sink. It reminds me of my two "moms," my real mom and her sister, my aunt Hoohoo. I like to think that wherever their spirits are, they're both doing what they need to be doing and they're both smiling at me doing these things I need to be doing. Like cleaning the back of the stainless steel sink surround behind the faucet and quietly stepping on crumbs on the floor.  : )

13 comments:

  1. OH CASEY, HOW I LOVED YOUR STORY. I CAN REMEMBER HOW OUR TINY KITCHEN WITH HARDLY ENOUGH ROOM FOR TWO PEOPLE IN IT WAS ALWAYS COVER WITH CRUMBS ETC ALSO. IT REALLY BOTHERED ME. UNTIL THIS DAY DIRT ON THE FLOORS BOTHERS ME BUT YOU LEARN TO LIVE WITH IT. MY MOM WAS THE BEST COOK IN THE WORLD SO WHY WOULDN'T THERE BE STUFF ON THE FLOOR. WE HAD A LARGE FAMILY AND WHEN I LOOK BACK AT THOSE YEARS I NEVER REALLY SAW ALL THE HARD WORK IT WAS FOR MY MOM. SOMETIMES I WOULD COME HOME FROM SCHOOL AND THE KITCHEN SINK WOULD BE PILED WITH DIRTY DISHES NOT REALIZING HOW HARD SHE WORKED STARTING HER DAY AROUND FIVE COOKING DAD A FULL BREAKFAST, THEN SENDING HIM OFF TO WORK. MONDAYS THE LAUDREY WAS HUNG ON THE LINE BY EIGHT. BRINGING IN THE CLOTHES AND IRONING EVERYTHING THAT WAS WASHED THAT DAY AND YET THE DISHES WERE'NT DONE WHEN I GOT HOME FROM SCHOOL. BAD MOM. BOY HAVE I EVER LEARNED HOW HARD MY MOM WORKED AT HOME. I STILL CAN'T STAND DIRTY DISHES. MAYBE IT'S THE SHAME WHEN I DIDN'T CLEAN THOSE DISHES FOR MY MOM AS TIRED AS SHE WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON. MANY DAY WHEN I WOULD COME IN FROM SCHOOL SHE WOULD BE LAYING ACROSS THE BED TAKING A REST. AGAIN NOT REALIZING HOW TIRED SHE WAS AT THE TIME. I CAN REMEMBER HOW SHE WOULD TAKE ALL THE BEDDING OUT INTO THE BACKYARD TO AIR. MIND YOU, WE HAD A TWO STORY HOME.PLUS,A CELLER THAT WAS USED TO COOL OFF IN THE HEAT OF SUMMER IT WAS ALSO USED FOR COOKING IN THE SUMMER AND CANNING THE FOOD FROM THE GARDEN THAT ONLY SHE WORKED.OH MY ONE BROTHER AND I DID HAVE TO WEED AT TIME BUT WE ALSO HAD A GREAT WAY JUST TO DISAPEAR WHEN THERE WAS HARD WORK TO BE DONE. LOL, MOM KNEW, SOMETIMES WE'D GET AWAY WITH IT AND SOMETIMES NOT. "MEMORIES"
    I BET THERE'S MORE TO YOUR STORY CASEY AS DOES MINE.

    HAVE A GREAT DAY PLAYING.

    GRANNY

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  2. This was certainly one of your most brilliantly written entries. I'll be VERY disappointed if it doesn't make it into your book verbatim.
    I just finished watching Julie & Julia, again! I think this is the 5th or 6th time! Bon Appetit !

    PS - I have the same little obsession.

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  3. Oh Casey, THIS is exactly why I am waiting SO SO impatiently for your entire book to be finished.
    Telling a story that evokes memories in others who read it while keeping them interested and imagining YOUR life.
    Such a wonderful gift you have. Thank you for sharing it (and I will GLADLY pay for the entire story upon completion and even then I'll bet there is more story that could be told)
    Thank you mama and Aunt Hoohoo for the care and love given to Casey. What a fine man with an enormous contribution to many lives you both raised.
    Mare
    Good a.m. Granny and X

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  4. Oh, PHEW! Pieces like this are the hardest to write, and I'm never sure they're going to be even slightly interesting. Your supportive comments mean the world to me. I'm glad this piece resonated with all of you. It even brought PX out of his semi-retirement, lol. : )

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  5. YOUR STORY IS LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE. GIVE ME MORE.

    GRANNY

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  6. Casey this is the part of you I LOVE the most, perhaps because I know how hard it is. Like you have said so many times before there is a common thread that runs through all of our lives no matter who we are or where we are and I think it is that common thread that is attached directly to the heart of all of us.

    Hey X nice to see you back, you were missed.

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  7. Hi Mare, Hi Annie! Hi Granny!
    I'll do my best to visit more - VERY hectic on this end. Hope everyone is doing well !

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  8. Casey, you ARE a wonderful story-teller! The way you craft the words, the way you evoke feelings, the light hand you use on what could be very heavy subjects: it's all perfect! I was actually moved to the point of being shaken by this story. I'm the better person for it, thanks to YOU!

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  9. thank you Katie. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your comment.

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  10. okay, Casey, you had me in tears. I love the way you write and I always want to hear more. I miss your mom, too, though I hardly knew her. Can you believe how many years it has been??? :(
    I love you and I miss you.
    <3 Debbie

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  11. Hey Debbie! Well, you didn't know my mom for all that long, but her address/name book has your two children's names in it! you must have made a great impression on her. I'm going to take this winter and string my stories into a book. GPP might be interested! If not, I'll shop it around. I'm so happy you're checking out my blog!

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  12. I was hesitating to comment on your story because I didn't want any comment of mine to trivialize what was clearing a story written from the heart. The other folks on here have said pretty much everything I thought of saying better than I could have. I just want to say how your blog has really enriched my every day experience and awakened memories that had been lurking -- I wasn't suppressing them but I wasn't thinking conciously about them either until things that you say brought them back up where they can be considered and sometimes shared. I really look forward to that book when you write it -- it sounds like a 1-click order from Amazon for sure! I know that there's a lot that you haven't addressed in the blog.

    Paul, NYC

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  13. PAUL, I FEEL YOUR A VERY SWEET SENSITIVE PERSON.SOMETIMES SHARING IS HARD TO DO.I TOO, CAN'T WAIT TO READ CASEYS' BOOK. THE DEDICATION WILL BE INTERESTING. I FEEL I HEAR HOO HOO AND MOM CALLING OUT TO US.I ALREADY WROTE MY BOOK ON ROSS' AND CASEYS' BLOG. I WISH I KEPT THE STORIES I TOLD IN A FOLDER SO MY KIDS COULD READ THEM. TO MUCH WORK TO GO BACK AND DIG THEM ALL UP WHEN I USED TO GO THERE. I DON'T WANT TO GO BACKWARD JUST FORWARD. EVEN IF I NEVER POST ANOTHER WORD HERE ON CASEYS' BLOG I WILL ALWAYS READ IT. I EVEN SHARE IT WITH MY GRAMPS. SOMEDAYS HE EVEN CHUCKLES.

    HUGS
    GRANNY

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