from my grandmother’s book, made by Sidney Arthur Kimber, her grandfather
This morning I made rings of forsythia for the doors. It wasn’t that long ago that the evergreen wreaths with the purple bows came down. Debris strewn pockmarked snow still covers much of the yard, but the vibrant forsythia blooms I forced indoors add their bit of promise and hope.
While rummaging and cleaning I found myself in the basement noticing a few old paintings, not mine. They are from my grandmother, and one, at least, is much worse for wear. Mr. Sidney Arthur Kimber has a puncture wound. Thankfully it’s not in his face which is beautifully done, in the Boston School style I believe, which makes sense given the time period. I’ll post a picture later.
Then I found some very old photographs, and wondered who they all were. I realize that I have to get my father down here to tell me what he remembers. It wasn’t long before I found a journal, an indiscriminate gray cover, yellow pages. But what is it? Inside, here is the title page:
Ruth Lockhart Kimber Hardy, b. 1903, d. 1989
There are pages and pages of hand colored illustrations. I’ll post more soon.