June Beauties
My grandmothers were both born in June. Elizabeth, my mom's mom, was born June 20, and Inez, my dad's mom, was born June 29. Both were young women during the depression, both raised children just after WWII, both worked to support their families. They were what we call strong women, Inez 5'11 and straight as a board, physically so. Both were skilled in gardening, Inez at farming. They sewed. Elizabeth made beautiful wool suits and I have some fabric from her collection to this day, including a beautiful piece of butter colored wool that would make a beautiful coat or suit. There is a set of card table sized tablecloths which she had made in drapery material, they are really beautiful and heavy with ornate trimming. Her bridge club luncheon recipes, I've kept, too. It's her method I still use for iced tea (not too sweet) and one of my prized possessions is the dark blue stoneware pitcher she bought for me, because I loved an olive green one she used for iced tea for many decades.
Two weeks ago I wrote about their skincare routines. Inez didn't wear much makeup, if any at all. She kept her hair in a buster brown bob, and later when it was all gray, kept it kind of twenties style short. My early gray came through her genetics. She could bathe babies in a kitchen sink, filet fish, shoot a gun, work in a cotton bleachery 5 days a week, and intimidate men. She was known to kick once in awhile. She was a stone cold cusser, and I think she gave me the switch a few times as a kid. Though to be honest, I think I was framed by some male cousins. Inez looked like the Mona Lisa, and her youngest son, before he was to leave his military assignment in Germany, flew her over so that they could drive to the Louvre to see that painting, only to find it was closed for some type of repairs. She told that story dryly so I don't know how she felt about it. She had been through a lot, and I suspect this was just one more example of life's bull crap as far as she was concerned. She had a wonderful laugh, and it was rare to hear it. As a child there was no safer place on this earth than in bed with my grandmother Inez, the fan running in the window and the sounds of a rural South Carolina summer droning on and on.
Elizabeth sent me a purple wool skirt she had made after we moved to St. Louis, when I was in 3rd grade. She found a darker purple sweater to go with it. Opening the package, I still recall, I was amazed with the beautiful purple colors. I'd never thought about purple clothes in all my 9 years. But opening that box with shades of purple inside is one of the memories stuck in my head. I think my mom and I both gasped. Sadly, I was not fond of the feel of wool at that time, or not used to it, and didn't wear them as often as I would have had they not made me itch. And, oddly, I never bought myself purple clothes as an adult. I just kind of love the story of that little brief violet joy she provided. Elizabeth had an Electrolux canister vacuum cleaner we would ride on, my sister and I. We'd sometimes let our hair get pulled into the stream of air it sucked in at the back. She let us. She was patient. I still see her coke bottle full of water, with the metal cap punctured through the cork to allow water to be sprinkled on the stack of cotton clothes to be ironed. That big heavy iron. The laundry smelling of sun rays.
I have the cards and letters they sent me as a child and young adult. I think we spoke more over the phone, later, even though I'm sure they both urged me to not run up my phone bill, back in the days of long distance charges. My niece Cecilia has a June birthday, so it continues. The June beauties.
~Oldgirl
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