Sentimental Me

After my father died several years ago, we did some remodeling to the home I lived in from the time I was twelve until I married at twenty-one.  One of the first things we replaced was the old kitchen door that opened to the small brick and concrete back porch.  The top half of the door had panes of glass, while the lower half was made of solid wood panels.  I don't know how many layers of paint were on that door.  Over the course of over forty years, I remember it being white, yellow, green, and gold.  I probably don't remember a few other colors in between.

For most of those forty years, an ugly, black dial phone hung by the back door.  It was the only phone in the house.  As a teenager (way before cellphones), I stretched the phone cord as tight as possible so I could sit on the little back porch and talk without being overheard. In our little house, the kitchen was the busiest, and noisiest, room in the house.  One of my best friends lived right across the street.  We rode the same bus, walked home together from the bus stop, then we'd talk on the phone for hours about our day.  Go figure!

There were always frilly little curtains, usually made by my mother, hanging on the window of that backdoor.  I can see her now--looking out the window, laughing and talking on the phone with her sister, Lottie.  Lottie lived in Belmont, about 20 miles away.  There were no long distance charges for calls to her, but calls to Mama's sister, Ollie, about 35 miles away, incurred charges.  Therefore, they only called each other in an emergency, since the call might cost them thirty-five cents. Ha ha ha!  All of them are gone now.  Oh my, how things have changed.

I would like to know how many times Mama carried heavy baskets of wet clothes out that backdoor.  Without a clothes drier until the late 1970's or early 1980's, she hung clothes on a line spring, summer, fall, and winter.  I've helped her bring in clothes that wouldn't dry on damp, winter days when they were frozen stiff.  We'd hang them over the backs of chairs to dry.


So many memories!  You must understand.  I just couldn't bring myself to part with it.  Without argument or question, my husband salvaged the bottom half of the door. But, whatever would I do with it?  I had no idea.  So, it's been stored away for years, just waiting.   Then I saw the photo on the right on Pinterest...half of an old door with shelves and hooks and drawers.  I love, love, love it!


My parents' door, with memories still attached, has been resurrected to a new purpose by my handyman husband.  The photo on the left is our version. We just hung it today and I love how it turned out!  All it needs is a black dial phone with an extra-long cord.  Of course, I have one of those, too.

Copyright 2014 Laney's Musings