Wine and cemeteries

Me, Chris and Brookie went on a girl's day out recently and had a grand ole time. First we visited Highland Manor Winery in Jamestown, Tennessee. It's the oldest winery in Tennessee. Check out their website at http://www.highlandmanorwinery.net/ They have a really nice gift shop. But their best asset is their employee, Mara. She's from Italy and I could have listened to her talk all day. She was so interesting. We did some wine tasting. I didn't think I liked wine, but I hadn't tried the sweet wine. Yum. Brookie and I liked their Southern Blush, and Chris liked the Reserve Chardonnay. We took a tour of the place which was very interesting. Then headed to Byrdstown for lunch at the Bobcat. Time to go the cemeteries! A little history first. Brookie was working at the newspaper when I got hired. Then left a few months later. (We remained friends for the past 18 years!) Her mother's maiden name was Flowers, my maiden name is Flowers. So we always teased each other about being related. Brookie is into genealogy and I love researching too. She uncovered that we really are related! Her 3rd great grandfather and my 4th great grandfather were brothers. So we are some kind of cousins. Cool, huh? Anyways, I took them to the cemeteries where my grandparents and other relatives are buried. Then to a "swept cemetery" (Winningham Cemetery) where Jack's grandparents are buried. A swept cemetery is exactly what it is...swept...no grass...they take brooms before a burial or before Decoration Day and sweep the cemetery. Brookie was really excited to see one because she had heard her mother talk about how cemeteries were swept once upon a time. Has anyone ever been to one? I'll post a photo. We visited a total of 7 cemeteries that day and enjoyed talking about the past. I'd love to hear from anyone who enjoys genealogy or wants to share something they've uncovered while researching their ancestors . . .

"A cemetery is a history of people - a perpetual record of
yesterday and sanctuary of peace and quiet today. A cemetery
exists because every life is worth loving and remembering - always."

Memories in a box

We have been cleaning out Granny Mae's house. An older couple will be renting it soon, well, tomorrow! It's all happened so fast. They were going to move in Sept. or Oct., then their house sold so they had to move it up, so we've really been busy. We had to clean out a room across the road from the house so we could put Granny's things there. This room held boxes on top of boxes, years worth of items belonging to my parents that they moved with them as we moved around when I was younger. Well, when we moved back to Tennessee in 1981 this room was used as a storage room for all their stuff....40 years worth of stuff! Mom and I began the process of going through the spider infested boxes. Dad didn't have much hope for us because Mom keeps everything. Mom would open a box and go through each item recalling each memory, what state we lived in when this was bought, where she had made this and on and on. I told her we'd never get through all the boxes if she kept talking about each little item and remembering....Well, we got to some boxes containing my memories. I made this in kindergarten. I carried this with me everywhere. I kept this under my bed, I remember wearing this, on and on I went with each memory. There were so many things I had forgotten about! The pink Raggedy Ann music box (still works!) with a bunch of plastic necklaces and bracelets intertwined, plus some rocks and bottlecaps. I kept everything. It runs in my family ya know. A set of Dr. Seuss books. A set of Judy Blume books. My baby clothes. My brother's baby clothes. My toy gun. My toy top. My drum. A bunch of little purses. A collection of posters of movie stars from the 1970's. More books. More books. More books. I could open a book store. Mom kept it all. So many memories. It was hard to decide what to throw away, what to keep. It had been kept all this time, and now we had to trash it? Mom did very well. We had 2 trailer loads of trash! She threw away all kinds of afghans, wall hangings and other things she had made. In Texas. In Oklahoma. In Florida. In Michigan. She did throw away some things that needed throwing away. And she kept glassware and other important items like the ashtray I made in Michigan in art class. (I asked her if she was sure it was an ash tray.) She kept the letter I wrote her telling her I would babysit my brother but she did owe me a million dollars. (I was 11 or so). What did I keep? Plenty. Books of course. Some old toys of mine that will look cool in my cabinet I'm creating (another story). I kept photos and awards I found in a partially ruined scrapbook. I kept a little swim suit and a petticoat of mine from 38 years ago. I kept my old comic books. I kept too much probably. But there are some things you just can't part with.

"Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things."