found: i am a caretaker

I had the most gorgeous conversation with one of the volunteer ladies last week, at my regular oppie. She is there, every Thursday morning, when I pop in for a quick look after the School/ Kindy dropoff. She goo-gaas over my littlest one, ever on my hip. She encourages my habit, with comments like What a find! or Such lovely treasure!

Last visit, I took some little plates to the counter, shaking my head. I don't need them, but I can't leave them. I said. And then she told me

It's people like us, we are the caretakers. It's important.

And I know you know. It really is.

A cute-as-a-puppy baby ensemble, sadly too small for my small. I'm looking at you, Miss Christina.

A beautiful hand-crocheted cot blanket. Perfection.

An incredible needlecraft book, published in 1946. The ladies working on the treadle singer in the front of the book reminded me so much of my Nana, my heart ached a little and I took the book to the counter without looking at the price ticket. Sometimes you find things, other times, they find you. My Nana used to tell me the story of going to her Aunt's house every evening for a few months to work on her wedding gown. I would pick Christmas crumbs out of her lace tablecloth, and she would tell me how she travelled by bus after working in town as a telephonist all day, then sit and sew with Aunty. Her wedding gown was beautiful, as was my Nana- a true classic beauty. My lucky sister has inherited her high cheekbones and strawberry curls. She was glad that I am a needleworker, I think.

What are you caretaking? I seem to be developing quite the taste for vintage books. Something about preserving the printed word in this modern era strikes me as important. I'll be looking at other caretakers, here.