Every once-in-awhile I just have to show you the real heart of my kitchen... the apron hanger!
To say I love aprons is such an understatement!!! If you would come to StoneGable you would surely find me answering the door with one of my sturdy bib aprons on! I call it my "uniform"!
Aprons and I have a long and deep history...
Both of my grandmothers wore aprons. I really did not know my dad's mother very well as she lived in Missouri and she died before my dad got out of the Service. So I only remember meeting her 3 times. But I remember pictures. She was a no nonsense farm woman and always had an apron on in all the pictures of her I have ever seen.
Once, when I was 8, while visiting my Missouri grandparents, I killed a chicken by wringing it's neck. And took it to my apronned Grandmother who made quick work of turning it into the most delicious fried chicken I have ever eaten!!!
The next time I visited her, at age 13, she introduced me to the wonderful world of Rhubarb! And yes, she was wearing an apron.
My Nani, my mother's mom, wore aprons too. Her's were the kind that fit over her head... sorta like a jumper. They were a lighter weight than the one's I wear now and were covered with pretty flowers and had fun coordinating cording all around them.
Nani's apron hung on a nail behind the cellar door. It had a special smell... probably from being in the cellar... It smelled safe and loving and peaceful. I can still smell it just by thinking about it... and it brings me to tears. I adored my Nani!
My Nani's young life was enveloped in the Depression. Her life was marked by it until the day she passed away. Nani literally wore her aprons to a thread and then ripped them up for rags.
I have what I call a "bit of the Nani" in me... I have one denim bib apron that went from being a cooking apron...and when I could no longer stain stick the cooking stains out of it... it became my painting apron... and when it got too worn for painting became my gardening apron. It's the first one I grab... it feels like it deserves to be worn! We have gone through so much together!!! I think it takes a long long time to train an apron!!! Sounds strange... but some of you will get it!
My kitchen-paining-garden apron... freshly washed!
My mother wore pretty aprons that tied around her lovely, thin waist... they suited her. I have never seen a more beautiful woman and a more proper lady in all my life! She never spilled things or got a smudge on her! Some of her aprons had small dainty pockets on her hip! Not like the big deep pockets that go from one hip to the other on my aprons.
They are filled with, clothes pins, a cell phone, deadheaded flowers, dog treats, a tissue or two and much more! Digging into my apron pocket is like opening a box of Cracker Jacks... there is always a surprise inside!
My sweet Mother carried one thing in her pretty apron pocket... a delicate hankie! My mother also has a drawer full of hankies. Something I did not acquire a taste or habit for.
They are filled with, clothes pins, a cell phone, deadheaded flowers, dog treats, a tissue or two and much more! Digging into my apron pocket is like opening a box of Cracker Jacks... there is always a surprise inside!
My sweet Mother carried one thing in her pretty apron pocket... a delicate hankie! My mother also has a drawer full of hankies. Something I did not acquire a taste or habit for.
I like to change up my aprons... seasonally. This year it's red, white and blue! Lots of bright patriotic color! Like the season, the aprons change too!
Scamp the photo bomber!
Scamp the photo bomber!
Oh, if my aprons could talk!!!! They would tell stories of a young wife learning to cook... and at first not being very successful at it. And of a darling young husband that ate it all and never let on... and still doesn't today!
They would tell you of being used and abused to gather flowers and vegetables from the garden... caring heavy loads of tomatoes or onions or heavenly smelling peonies!!!
They would get misty eyed as they told you that tiny ones were bundled and cradled and wrapped in their fabric. They were called to dry little one's tears and dirty hands and once in a while they were even used as a hankie for little noses!!!
They would tell of all the dinner parties, and family holidays they attended because I was just too tired from cooking to care to take them off!
One special blue apron would tell you about the first time my daughter put my apron on and how it made me cry because she looked so grown up in it!
They have been called into action as a dish towel and even as a pot holder.
They have been washed and bleached and stain sticked a thousand times!!!
And they would also tell you that they feel important and loved and responsible and needed!
Yes, me and my army of capable aprons have lived a whole lot of wonderful life together!
Remember to
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