Thursday, June 4, 2009

Theme Thursday = Clock


In rural Indiana, as young girl, I lived in my paternal grandparent's
backyard, in a little trailer with my mother. She worked full time,
while I happily spent most of my days in the bustling household of
my dear grandparents, aunt and three uncles. My youngest uncle,
who is six years older, and I had the most fun on warm summer
afternoons down the road at Mr. Tinkle's shed.
.
Mr. Tinkle (yes, that was his real name) was a scrubby, Darby O'Gill
kind of guy, missing a few teeth and always sporting a worn wool cap.
He was the local fix-it man, tinkering on small appliances, but mostly
clocks. It would take a second or two for my eyes to adjust to the cool
dark shed from the bright summer sun. Inside was the curious,
intriguing scent of motor oil, mixed with old dank wood. Lots of junky
parts, covered with a layer of grease and grime, littered the dirt floor
of his shed. Tinkle, bent over the guts of a clock, always brightened
when we dropped in for a friendly chat. On one particular visit, he
gave me a small pink flamingo salt shaker.
.
To this day, I am drawn to vintage wind-up alarm clocks, and have
more than a few scattered around the manor. Those delightful, lazy
afternoons, in Tinkle's shed just might have something to do with it.


(Here's a picture of my grandparents' house and our trailer in the
back. That's one of my uncles pulling my trusty red Radio Flyer
wagon. Okay, I know. The cars are dating me. The top photo is my
great grandmother's kitchen clock. I'm told my grandmother would
use it to keep time, on school mornings in the early 1920s, in Flora,
Indiana.)

78 comments:

  1. What a precious moment in time, so sweetly narrated and illustrated. It takes a lot of us back too.

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  2. Awesome photo of the clock... and story.

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  3. Oh, I am a clock person, too. What a story my 'great grandfather' clock could tell, if it could only speak. Dad and Mother brought him to the USA from Australia, and the clock man said it's late 1700's/early 1800's.

    Along with the great grandfather clock, we have an old cuckoo clock, and three very old mantel clocks -- one which belonged to my great, great aunt Maggie. So Mother named her Maggie. I inherited her after Mother's death. It was a tearful moment to be 'the kid' that got her.

    I'm sorry for rambling on! This is your blog!!! Anyway, I loved seeing your old photos. I believe we need to nurture ourselves by learning and treasuring memories from our pasts.

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  4. fun memory. spent time with my great uncle in his shop as he crated furniture. long boards would become chairs and tables. how fun to watch the "becoming". lovely post willow.

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  5. My youngest uncle,
    who is six years older, and I had the most fun on warm summer
    afternoons down the road at Mr. Tinkle's shed.


    Glad you clarified that point! ;/)

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  6. I love this anecdote...and the clock! My husband laughs because I have a thing for clocks...clocks everywhere...multiple types...in large numbers throughout the house...one clock from The Netherlands is hand-painted ceramic...funny thing is that the timepiece runs backwards...but I love it!!! Why does my husband laugh over my clock collecting? Simple. I am always late. LOL. Love your grandmother's clock...love this post! You have a wonderful writing voice! Easy to "listen" to...~Janine XO

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  7. Blessings
    I love all you share
    Love Jeanne♥

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  8. Lovely post. Clocks can be magical.

    We have an old schoolhouse clock -- mostly I don't notice its ticking but late at night when all is quiet, it's like the heartbeat of the house.

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  9. Such An Elemental Memory.Clocks might in theory be Sterile...But In Practice They are surrounded by the scents,sounds,dankness & Light of Human Life.
    Beautiful Memory.Thank You.

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  10. A very nice memory. Growing up back then was very different from how it is now. My parents would always have a neighborhood watermelon party in the summer. We would throw cornmeal on the floor of the garage to make dancing to the phonograph easier. Well, the grown-ups danced. Us kids just slid around on it.

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  11. What wonderful memories, Willow. So many things shape us and make us who and what we are. I find peoples' stories so fascinating.

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  12. Before I reached the end of your post I was going to say how I thought this must be why you are such a collector of oddities and things you keep in glass jars.
    You painted an oh-so-charming picture of a most interesting childhood.

    Kat

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  13. Clocks keep track of our memories sometimes don't they Willow?
    Isn't just marvelous how some people's name ends up being their trade? The Tinkering Mr. Tinkle!

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  14. What lovely memories you weave. I know you frequently do here, but I think you should write the story of your life. You are popular because you are immensely readable.

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  15. another great trip down memory lane with you.
    i loved it.
    xx

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  16. What a lovely post. Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself.

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  17. Oh I love those old clocks, they are so beautiful and full of history :)

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  18. Mr. Tinkle. Priceless--as all good memories are. I know that "curious, intriguing smell of motor oil, mixed with old dank wood." There is nothing else like it in all the world. Also love the Pasternak quote and the Wilbur poem. Thanks!

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  19. What a lovely story of your yesteryears.

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  20. Fond memories, they are so poignant now, aren't they?

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  21. What great memories! There is something so fascinating about clocks. I grew up in rural Indiana too, and I lived in a house right next to my grandparents trailer. We're like shadows of each other! ~Lori

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  22. mmmmmmm.... the rich sensory memories of childhood!!! they're all there inside us waiting to be revisited. thanks for sharing this one willow! steven

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  23. What a cute story! The clock is beautiful, too. I want to know if you and uncle ever tried to jump from the little porch roof of the trailor to the garage of the house? They look like about 3 feet apart! And how fun to have lived so close to your grandparents!

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  24. Willow, there's nothing "dated" about you; you're timeless! And we lived in a trailer similar to that one. Too, looks like you've gotten more than the lamp, handed down. Nice clock and nice post :)

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  25. Oh Willow I LOVE these pictures and the story! What images you conjure. And here's another thing we have in common: We lived in a trailer, too, in two different trailer parks for about a year. I didn't grow up there but I still have a soft spot in my heart for trailer life. (We own a small travel trailer and I LOVE it!)

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  26. everytime I see that clock image of yours I momentarily think it's an eye and eye lashes

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  27. Willow, this is a wonderful post. So many rich memories. I find it fascinating that I was not that far away from you in Indiana. I'm a little older, but I think we were watching some of the same things on tv and eating some of those candies from the 50's. I agree with another person. You need to write a book. I'd buy it for sure.

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  28. Nice childhood memories. I remember windup clocks very well. I love clocks as well.

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  29. I am doing some drive by blogging. The paper has loaded me up with assignments through Saturday, and you should see my poor house! I so need a maid.

    I love those photos.

    Great commentary. Do you think you can slow that clock down for me, so I can at least sweep up the cat hair dust bunnies?

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  30. Hi Willow,
    was this a small town you lived in because the road out the front of the house looks very narrow.

    A lovely story Willow, thank you

    Happy days

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  31. a wonderful walk back in time - thanks for sharing Willow :)

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  32. Lovely childhood memories. I too spent many hours in sheds with an "intriguing scent of motor oil, mixed with old dank wood." I loved being around men in the neighborhood fixing things, creating things out of almost nothing.
    Beautiful Mary Cassatt portrait in your sidebar. Always a pleasure to visit here at Willow Manor.

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  33. What a wonderful photo, Willow, and a story to treasure.

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  34. Good morning, Willow.

    Sadly, the Mr. Tinkles of this world are dying out. But you paint a vivid picture of his workshop. I can almost smell the wood and oil!

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  35. I enjoy clocks too! And the cars in your photo.

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  36. Hello Willow,

    Lovely memories. And Mr Tinkle might be the right sort of resident for Woolley Wood, wouldn't you say?!

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  37. I like it when you are in reminiscent mood.

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  38. We never had a Mr. Tinkle in the neighborhood (although I did know a Mr. Dickout--but that's another story), however we did have a neighbor who worked on his car in his garage all the time and didn't mind us kids hanging around.

    In later years I used to wonder what was wrong with his car that he needed to be working on it every night of the week?

    Maybe he just needed a good clock?

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  39. Aw, I love the pictures! Especially the second one...I'm a sucker for old-ish photos. I think the not-so-bright colors are much prettier than new photos.

    I also really like the name "Mr. Tinke." Haha. He sounds like he'd have made a wonderful character in a children's book. :)

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  40. I love the photos.. Mr Tinkle sounds so fairytale like, and your words conjure up the atmosphere perfectly!

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  41. My dad was a great collector of old clocks, his favorite was (an extremely annoying, chime every 15 minutes) Winchester ... My sister seems to have inherited his clock love ... me, as long as I know what time it is I am happy.

    Great story, Willow

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  42. What a fabulous story! I wonder if there's any such thing as a Mr. Tinkle anymore? Surely there must be one or two.

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  43. Wonderful memory. My father had his grandfather's clock, dating to the mid-19th century. It was a large mantel clock with a door and a glass frontispiece on the bottom of the door with the top glass clear so you could see the face of the clock. The bottom part of the door glass had a bunch of Concord grapes on a white background. It's was either blown or painted on, I never really checked. It had to be wound every night and it would make a "Bong Bong Bong" sound when it hit the top of the hour. When Dad died, my brother took the clock and I am glad it remains in the family as it remnds us both of our father.

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  44. Love this. What a wonderful memory.
    Whenever I stayed with my grandparents and Sunday would roll around my grandfather would drop my grandmother and I off to church and he'd go across the street to attend his "mass" with his fix-it friend in a little shack filled to the beams with clock parts. Every so often I was granted permission go with him. Oh, how I loved those Sundays.

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  45. I love these little glimpses, Willow. Perhaps this set-up explains why you have always felt so connected to the older generations of your family?

    My parents have a beautiful grandfather clock from Germany -- and it is the only thing that both my brother and I really, really covet.

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  46. Mr. Tinkle, I love that! I'm going to use that name... thanks.

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  47. Nice memories. Clocks are so intriguing.

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  48. what a wonderful post....and reminds me of a wonderful photo I have, but forgot of my dad working on an old clock... darn, it would have been a terrific addition to the mouse's celebration of clocks....hum, will have to think about adding it. but actually I think I may have used it awhile ago now that I think of it...double hum.

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  49. I'm not sure when wind up clocks went out of fashion, but I miss them. Same with watches, I noticed the other day that one of my watches had stopped so I tried to wind it with the itty bitty knob on the side, but all that does now is change the time. Cooky!!!

    Great photos you have, sort of like my grandparents home in Connecticut.

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  50. You took me back to my past. I remembered going with my Grandfather to his Gas Station, and the smells of grease, gas and mold. I loved this post. It reminded of my own experiences as a child.

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  51. Hi! Willow,
    Thanks, for sharing!...a wonderful memory of how your "interest" in vintage wind-up alarm clocks collecting began, Mr.Tinkle, and the photograph of your great grandmother's beautiful kitchen clock.
    Take care!
    DeeDee :-D

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  52. That is a wonderful memory. I love the accompanying photos.

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  53. This is good. This really good. Actually, this is better than good. It's great. I loved the tale and I was suddenly transported back in time to a beautiful countryside with two kids playing hide-and-seek.

    The next book I have in line to read (after I'm done with Herr Bach, some day :-D) is a collection of essays written by a fellow blogger. He has also free-lanced for newswpapers. I think it'd be worth contacting publishers and start thinking of getting most of your columns as essays. The writing is precise, no matter whether it is a long or short post, it is always interesting. Just a thought. Marvellous images, too. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

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  54. I love the picture of your grandparents house. What a gift to have all that time with family. I hope they are treasured memories.

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  55. Love this story - Mr Tinkle would make a good character for a childrens' book. Have you still got the pink flamingo?

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  56. I love all these glimpses into the past
    so evocative and intriguing.
    We want more more of course......

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  57. Thanks for the little peek into your childhood. It appears to be full of love and family and kindly neighbors. Things really were more simple then, me thinks.

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  58. wonderful pics --looks like many ideal summers were spent there in that backyard. Mr Tinkle--what a name. Love it. Lovely story.

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  59. Hi, it's me the drama queen, we have to talk, please stop by my blog.

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  60. What lovely memories, Willow! Your description of Mr Tinkle's shed is wonderful, I can just picture it!

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  61. Great, personal post! Thanks for sharing those memories!

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  62. The car pulled in the driveway looks like an early 1950s model.

    My neighbor man was like your Mr. Tinkle except he fiddled around with Civil War stuff -- from swords and knives to guns and uniforms. Many years later, his widow sold it to a collector for tons of cash.

    Your story brings back lots of memories.

    You mentioned my dad's features...

    We(meaning my Lincoln clan) have most of the President's features from eyebrows to hair to the bridge of the nose etc. If you take a piece of paper and put over my face from the bridge of the nose down (when my hair is longer) I am a dead ringer for President Lincoln -- the part of me that shows.

    Bing-it!

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  63. What a grand home for sure, so close to Granny, how lucky. We lived in the little house next door to my paternal grandparents when I was small...I was in paradise, lots of cookies! I so miss my Granny!

    I had a trailer just like that when I lived in Florida, talk about retro...again, paradise!

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  64. Awesome...i can almost taste the dust of the little shed you describe.

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  65. Tinkle, the tinkerer. It does sound like character from a children's book, don't you tink? I mean, think?

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  66. There are poems herein, willow.

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  67. Hi there. Lovely post, and I just wanted to say thanks for stopping by my blog and following me. It's much appreciated.

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  68. Seems like we all knew a mr. Tinkle somewhere in our past!

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  69. Mr. Tinkle, sounds out of a Dickensian novel. You have had a most interesting and rich life.

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  70. Ps my grandfather made wooden clocks. I have some of the gears, of wood, he carved or whatever he did to make them.

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  71. So sweet . . precious memories indeed and unfaded by time.

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  72. Did you, since you were so close, walk along the locks for the canals in or near Delphi????

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  73. Great post Willow!Have a lovely weekend!

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  74. what fabulous memories

    i'd love to have seen the pink flamingo salt shaker - do you still have it?

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  75. I love the clock picture and the picture of your Grandparents house along with yours. I enjoyed your story about your time living there and enjoying your family life. You have such a great memory and attention to details.

    Thank you so much for sharing.

    God bless.

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  76. Not to concern yourself with age, Willow. I recall seeing those car models as a child, and my brothers had a red flyer wagon. It is wonderful to look back to remember how things were and the times you had with the people then.

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)