I'm thinking about the old home place this week.  Here are a few things that remind me of my family in NY.  One is this old sewing table made out of a HEAVY iron (?) sewing machine from who knows when.  Mom's mom, the grandfather I never met, made it into a table, if I'm remembering right.  It traveled down to Texas with me early in my grad school career and I've lugged it around with me ever since.  HEAVY.  Now Benjamin pulls up on it and gets closer every day to pulling the plants down.  Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out where else to put them... 

Looking at the picture again, I remember that the crate he is leaning on and the chair behind the table also made the long journey from my parents' basement to my various Texas homes.  

In the picture below, mom painted the picture of a caterpillar that hangs in Benjamin's room.  Right now he's more interested in The Very Hungry Caterpillar.  But I look forward to the day when Benjamin points to the picture and we can make the connection between the two caterpillars and talk about his grammy together.  

We read him stories here every night before he goes to sleep.  It's a pleasant little scene isn't it?