These are the pictures you could have seen — and, we hope, did see — in December’s Bulletin Boards.
The Permanent Family Record
Auld Lang Syne Division
Cindybindy of Woodbury writes: “When this time of year rolls around, I am reminded of the many wonderful New Year’s Eves I spent at my grandparents’ house when I was a child.
Life as we know it
Used-book Store Division
Tim Torkildson writes: “Dinkytown, by the University of Minnesota campus, had a plentitude of used-book stores when I was a lackbeard.
“On Saturdays and school holidays, I spelunked down amidst the flyblown stacks for abandoned literary geodes. I found them, too: such glittering paperback treasures as ‘Winston Churchill: An Informal Study of Greatness,’ by Robert Lewis Taylor, and the whimsical ‘Three Men in a Boat,’ by Jerome K. Jerome. I paid a quarter for each of those jewels and read them so avidly that the brown and brittle pages fluttered down upon my bedroom carpet like October leaves. No matter; I had gleaned enough wild and weird fancies from them, and others like them, to last me a lifetime.
One & Done
The Gram With a Thousand Rules: “The recent news brought back a long-submerged memory from nearly 65 years ago.
The Permanent Grandsonly Record
Or: Ah, the smell of it!
Jomajesty reports: “As told to me by Princess #1:
“On his arrival home from school recently, oldest grandson Jack entered the house and asked where Grandma was. His mom replied that I wasn’t there, and if I was, he would have seen my car in the driveway.
Built to last
Little Sister writes: “It’s comforting to have something in your possession that was made to last.
“This very ordinary Club Aluminum pot was part of a complete collection my parents received as a wedding gift in 1944.
‘Tis the season!
Or: The Permanent Grandmotherly/Granddaughterly, Motherly/Sonly Record
Booklady: “My heart is full.
“This grandmother’s dream has been to pass along some treasured traditions to the next generation. Although my sons were happily involved in Christmas preparations as kids, enthusiasm for cookie-baking did not last. When our younger son died at the age of 21, some of the joy of the season left me, too. His daughter, just over a year old at the time, lived with us for a while and spent lots of time with us through the years.