Happy day before Thanksgiving

It's the day before Thanksgiving and I just got back from getting the last few things I need for our meal.  Our celebration includes me, my husband and my beautiful little dog, Dusty.

At Thanksgiving and Christmas, Ron and I actually sit down at the table and

eat off place mats with food in pretty little bowls, sitting on

Grandma's red and white crocheted round hot pads.  (I have a gillion of those in all sizes, she

was prolific in her later years, it was just about all she could do, in addition to

dishcloths.)

This time of year always gets me thinking about the old days.  My previous post about my dream

made me really start thinking about the old days.

This particular picture is the closest model I could find to look like what I remember our old car looked like.

This is the car that carried us  up route 66, 

past the Blue whale,

past our very favorite bridge in the world,

to Grandma's house every weekend and on Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

This is the car that my brother fell out of in the Utica square parking lot.

This is the car you could see the road going by, through the floor in the back seat, because it had rusted through.

This is the car that took a trip down the driveway all by itself one day after

my brother and I had been playing in the front seat. 

 We apparently knocked it out of gear. 

Went back in the house and while we were quietly playing something else at the dining room table, we saw the car go by the dining room windows sans driver. 

The only thing the saved the garage was a big galvanized washtub sized bucket full of sand that was our 'sandbox', 

 (BTW, the garage is still standing, sort of,  it leans more every time we go by and see the house in Tulsa.)

This is the cart in which Daddy always whisper whistled "When you wore a Tulip" every time he drove us to Grandma's house.

This is the car Daddy kept a little notebook in the glove box that he wrote down the mileage and how much gas he bought

every time he filled it with gas, changed the oil, aired the tires etc.  Actually he kept a notebook in every car he ever had and he did the same with his lawnmowers!

This was the car that you couldn't roll down the back window because my brothers best friend tried to roll it down the wrong way really, really hard until he broke it.

This is the car we carried newspapers to the recycling place in the backseat on Saturdays, and weighed the car and the papers and then the car after the papers were emptied and they'd give us $2.37. 

  Back then that was something.

I guess I miss my family.  They, my brother and sister,  will be having Thanksgiving together.  My brother goes to my sister's house tonight and then on to his daughters house tomorrow in Fairfax Virginia.  (My brother lives in North Carolina and my sister live is Virginia.)

Tomorrow Dusty gets a plate.  He's already getting excited.

If you have memories about an old car leave me a comment.

Happy quilting