Picking in The Old Days

Today is Monday and I'm off to hunt for 

some new old stuff.  

I mean treasures. 

I'll be scouring, digging, unearthing, tromping,

PICKING!

Tho' rarely a day goes by that I'm NOT hunting and buying, 

somedays are dedicated to the pleasure.

 Grandmother Thelma, was my role model.  

When my Aunt Lo' was an antiques dealer in Fairbanks, Alaska, many, many years ago, Mamom "picked" for her.

  Let's not even go into how long ago . . . 

suffice it to say I began picking at the tender age of about 16. 

 I'd pack our lunches and follow along behind Mamom, as excited as could be, because you just never knew where she'd take us.

Having eaten a proper hot breakfast,


 (Mamom believed big hearty breakfasts were high on the list . . . right after cleanliness and Godliness and using proper manners),

we'd leave before 'first light' . . . 

  We'd drive forever across two lane country roads to the place she'd chosen for our adventure. 

 It was usually a farm or old property in a wonderfully remote area, seemingly untouched by time.   I recall the feeling of having stepped back 100 years on those journeys.


When the early morning mists lifted, we'd pull in, uncork the coffee thermos to fortify ourselves for the task ahead, and jump from the truck to begin our "work."

(Just dawned on me . . .  that's where the superbly delightful association of coffee and my life probably took root!)
LOL

There was always the beginning:  the pleasantries exchanged between homeowner and visitor . . . "come set awhile . . . have a cup of coffee . . . I jes' made hot biscuits" . . . don't this weather beat all? . . . My bean's have gone to shrivellin . . . don't know what the corn'll do.  Child, come have some biscuits . . . she's jes a skinny little thing . . . Henry's out workin' on the tractor . . . you 'girls' come on up and set on the porch while I call him up." 

It was all wasted time in my book - I was ready to get into the cellar or the attic or the barn and 
get to the 
STUFF! 

 But I have an idea now, that that was where the negotiations began.  

And I can still taste those biscuits . . . 

Continued in tomorrow's blog .