"Pongáio" was the name my Aunt Mona gave to a long, green, cool room where we gathered at her home —
replete with comfy chairs, a rocker, sewing machine, sewing goods, beautiful beads, shelves, books, bibelots, photographs, odds'n'ends, mementos of a life, treasures —
a gathering of all the useful & 'useless' things that so make life a pleasure.

Wednesday, February 03, 2010


The title above is from Jane's post at her blog, Posy, and below is a bit that I found beautiful. She had been musing on her life and that of her dear Grandma who had passed away very recently.
"My wish is that when it is my funeral and if I have been privileged enough to have the same roles as Grandma; that my children and my children's children will know quite simply, whatever my failings, how deeply they had been loved."

A beautiful post, and a good reminder when the "children", whatever their ages may be, are making us pull our hair out! And, most important, I believe that it is what mothers wish to say, but often don't, or can't.
So, thank you, Jane, for putting this into words and sharing with us.

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