When I am back at the old homeland I love to crawl up into the attic and glance at all the old farm tools stashed up there waiting for the next planting season. Over the years of spring cleanings these are the things that will not be thrown away. You can wander into any little country store, antique mall, and sometimes even the occasional restaurant and see these beauties hanging from the rafters. The farming tool of the past has now become a symbol, like the forgotten skeleton of good old Yorick in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. When Hamlet reached in and pulled out this memory a flood of emotions of “the days past” came rushing in. It is the same for me when I glance into that dingy little space above the house.
I love this image my grandmother took in the 20’s
By Hazel Holley Crabtree