Since
I wrote about mealtimes a month or so ago, I’ve been thinking about other childhood
memories. Combine that with the focus of my study right now – Oral History –
there has been a whole lot of thinking going on.
One
reading for my course focused on the memories attached to objects like photos
and bric-a-brac or even appliances ! In this article the family photographed
every room and wall in their mother’s home after she had passed away, to
preserve the memory of how her home looked. That was something I never thought
of. The idea was that although someone might think they had no memory of a
particular event, the photograph might uncover a lost thought. I can see how
that might work.
Anyways,
it got me thinking about objects I have accumulated and where they came from.
In
one of my boxes there is a 45 (you all know what they are – right ?) in a worn
paper sleeve with tracks such as Old King Cole and Little Boy Blue which used
to get played again and again on the radiogram at Nana’s. The disc would sit at
the top of the spindle and drop to the mat and play the tunes we loved so much.
Interestingly that same radiogram is now a treasured belonging of Lauren. It doesn’t
work now, need to get that sorted.
I
have some of Nana’s cookbooks and a collection of ornaments that used to live
in the china cabinet. I think we all chose something from there to keep. I also
have a few other little containers which I think came from my other Nana’s
home.
In my
brother’s garage there is a well loved light brown Morris Minor. We all have
memories of that car I think. Trips to the Lake, the garden centre, Whakamaru,
the Mount, the pool at Cambridge (and breaking down on the way home and needing
to get towed), to Te Awamutu, Auckland and even all the way to Wellington.
Then
there are photos, the memories attached to some of these are gone now as there
is no-one to tell them. Others still have memories which can be shared – just need
to work out the best way to record all of them.
One
thing in the reading article was the “magic” toaster – it got me thinking about
toasters. Ours was one with doors – is that what you’d call them ? You had to
toast the bread one side at a time, opening and closing the “door” to turn it
over. A pop-up toaster was along time coming in our house. Toast also arrived
at the breakfast table on a toast rack ! I need to get back to that. It seemed
like a more mindful way to start the day, rather than the rush it often is – to
get up, eat and get out the door these days.
