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| Monkey |
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| After 60 years, Monkey still has power to soothe. |
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| sidewalk skates |
Throughout the years, I have seen this little monkey sitting on a shelf with other pictures and mementos in Jim and Margaret's home in Dahinda. I had always told Margaret that when she was ready to get rid of it, I would like to have it. Each time Bill and I would visit Dahinda, my eyes would go to that shelf to check on Bill's little monkey.
It wasn't until Jim and Margaret moved to Mendota that she decided to part with the monkey. And it wasn't until then that I actually got a good look at the thing! The fur has been almost all rubbed off; the stuffing was hanging out of one leg, the head was hanging onto the neck by a few threads, the pants have been torn away, the glass eyes are hopelessly scratched, the nose is gone, and he looks SCAREY!
But Bill remembers loving this little monkey and sleeping with him. When I stitched his head back on, I noticed several different colors of thread. I imagined either Margaret or Grandma Sevier lovingly stitching this monkey back up so Bill could sleep another night with peaceful and comforting thoughts.
So now Monkey resides in Charleston and sits on a shelf in our guest room with David's lion, Heather's Baby Beans doll and Patrick's Curious George monkey. (Brando and Jordan haven't given me their bunnies yet.)
AND, I found my childhood skates! I spend the weekend with several girlfriends at the Covered Bridge Festival in Indiana and came upon a booth with a few antiques. When I saw these sidewalk skates, I just had to have them. The leather straps were still intact, but looked pretty stiff and rotten. The clamps that fit around the soles of our shoes still worked and the key was even with the skates. The wheels weren't rusted, so I was tempted to try them out, but I don't think those clamps were meant to work on athletic shoes. We had leather shoes with those thick soles - just perfect for clamping some skates onto. I remember hours of skating with my sister on the sidewalk in front of our house in Pana. No pads..no helmets..just skates and skinny, little bare knees. We weren't allowed to cross the street, but that was OK, because the sidewalks went down to the corner and then half-way down the next side of the block.
Just looking at the skates brings back warm, fuzzy memories - not unlike the memories Bill has when he looks at his monkey.
