A pure sense of nostalgia, that’s what comes over me when I think about the old days and my grandmother.
Then I can almost smell that ‘antique’ scent from her attic, filled with old, nearly forgotten furniture, boxes, and Christmas decorations. I can smell her lemon-scented geraniums in the greenhouse, her favourite 4711 Eau de Cologne, and the freshly washed laundry simmering in a large pan on the stove.
I remember my grandfather in his carpenter’s overalls, his ever-so-sweet strawberries, the most delicious coffee with the creamiest milk, and the little chocolate bars that were always pressed into my hand.
All around us linger history, memories, old stories, and
that old nostalgic feeling.
This blog began when my mother showed me an old photo album, filled with photographs of her as a child, of my grandparents, of their former home, and of my great-grandparents’ farm. I absolutely adore those weathered black-and-white photographs with their scalloped edges, carefully pasted into an album with yellowed pages, each accompanied by elegantly handwritten notes and captions.
They tell the story of my history, my past, and, in a way, my future as well.
In my mother's old photo album
With a touch of wistfulness and a longing for the past, I leafed through the photographs in my mother’s old photo album.
Most of the photographs dated from the late 1930s to the late 1940s and were, my mother proudly told me, taken by my grandfather himself with an old camera. It makes me wonder where that camera ended up and whether someone now has it displayed on a shelf as a vintage piece. My thoughts drifted to my grandfather, who would finish a roll of film and then have it developed. Where did he do that? He would probably have had to cycle into town, but where could he take his film, and how long did it take before he could hop back on his bicycle to collect the photographs? Afterwards, they were likely gathered around and viewed together by the whole family.
How different things are today. Easier, of course, but less exciting and far less special.
Fond of a objects with a story
As a lover of history, I sometimes experience a kind of homesickness for the past, a longing for earlier times, whatever period that may be.
That is why I am so fond of old objects with a story behind them. Things that I find difficult to part with and always keep. For example, I have kept the weathered suitcase with which my father moved from Barbados to England 65 years ago. I also still have the old moving chest that my grandfather made for my mother when she moved to England after getting married.
I have even kept the preserving jars from my grandparents’ cellar, complete with plums and cherries that are perhaps 30 or 35 years old. And then there are my grandmother’s old flan tins. Useless and rusted though they are, they look wonderfully beautiful and full of character on the shelving in my utility room. In the small attic room, the old cricket bats and cricket sweater remain as quiet reminders of my grandfather’s days as a professional cricketer in England.
All around me are tangible stories, history, scents, and memories.
I imagine what life was like in days gone by
When I walk through the countryside around Thorn in the early morning, along centuries-old sandy paths and beneath ancient, thick trees whose branches stretch far and wide, I find myself wondering who has walked there in the same way before me. Whose footsteps lie hidden beneath the sand, and who might have lost an old coin, a letter, or a ring along the way?
And then I arrive in the historic village, where it is still peaceful and quiet, and where the first warm rays of sunlight illuminate the centuries-old buildings. In those moments, I feel as though I have stepped into another era, a time without the sounds of cars and mopeds, and without the bright colours we now see in clothing, shop signs, awnings, and window displays.
As I walk over the old cobblestones, I imagine what life was like in days gone by: how horse-drawn carts filled the lanes, how cows were led to the stream, and how women, like my great-grandmother, did their washing in that very same water.
If I could be a time traveller, I might see my great-grandmother there, busy with the considerable task of washing work clothes, aprons, and pinafores in the stream. Soaking, scrubbing, and wringing them out. What hard work it all was. I could sit beside her and ask how she managed it all in her day, and how on earth she coped during the winter months.
I furnished the room with old items
When a room in our house became vacant two and a half years ago, I decided to turn it into a guest bedroom. Without any particular plan in mind, it gradually developed a nostalgic atmosphere of its own. I furnished it with old items I already had, such as my grandparents’ old alarm clock, vintage pencil cases, and old suitcases. I then added to the character of the room with a beautiful antique chest of drawers, a mirror, and a few prints and paintings that I found in a charity shop.
The room has a cosy, nostalgic 1940s–1950s feel without being truly old-fashioned or feeling overly heavy. It simply has a warm sense of the past. If you would like to see more of this room, I previously wrote a detailed blog (soon to be translated) about it.
Keep something, and one day it may come in useful
I simply cannot walk past a charity shop or a little antiques shop without going in to see whether they have any beautiful old china. I could say that I do not need any more, but my motto is that you can never have too many lovely things. As my grandmother always used to say, “Keep something, and one day it may come in useful.”
Whenever I spot old English teacups, I simply have to buy them if the price is reasonable. As a result, my china cabinet is now full of them. Most of them are used regularly, though, because tea really does taste better from an old teacup, and teatime becomes a wonderfully nostalgic little moment of enjoyment.
An old, abandoned farmhouse
On summer mornings, when the bright sunlight finds its way between the neighbouring old houses and illuminates the farmhouse windows, I can just make out the outlines of a few objects that apparently still remain inside. An old fireplace with a pendulum clock upon the mantelpiece, and a painting hanging on the wall.
My mother, who used to buy milk there as a child, remembers the historic cowshed and how she had to walk between the cows to reach the kitchen, where the farmer’s wife sold fresh milk.
How I would love to travel back in time and see that farmhouse as it once was. What would I find there? A farming family, cows, stoves, chickens, a kitchen garden, a squeaking hand pump by the sink, and perhaps a dog or two stretched out in the afternoon sunshine in the farmyard.
His old spade and garden fork
My grandfather was devoted to his vegetable garden, which seemed absolutely enormous when I was a child.
There were rows of beans, potatoes, and strawberries sweeter than any I have tasted since, as well as thick stalks of rhubarb. I can still picture my grandfather standing there with his old spade and garden fork, making sure everything looked neat and grew well.
There were also many traditional cottage-garden flowers in all sorts of shades, such as chrysanthemums and strawflowers. Some of these flowers were dried so that my grandmother could use them to create the equally traditional floral arrangements she loved to make.
When my grandparents’ house had to be sold, I was given a few items from the garden. Those old forks and rakes still have a special place in my garden shed, at the far end of the garden, where I tend my own much smaller vegetable patch.
Even the few packets of flower seeds have a special place in a wooden box. The year ‘90 is written on them. To someone else, packets of seeds that are 36 years old might seem completely worthless, but I truly treasure things like that. They carry a story and form a tangible link to my past.
With a nostalgic sense of the past
My favourite books with a nostalgic sense of the past:
The Cazalets – Elizabeth Jane Howard
Land Girls – Susan Cookson
Miss Marple/Tommy and Tuppance – Agatha Christie
De Nachtroos – Lucinda Riley
Spaans Vuur – Wouter van Mastricht
De koffiedief – Tom Hillenbrand
My favourite series and films with a nostalgic sense of the past :
Grantchester
Pride & Prejudice
From time to time
Downton Abbey
Land girls
Grantchester
All creatures great and small
Het verhaal van Nederland (NPO)
My favourite places for food and drink with a nostalgic atmosphere:
De Maaihoeve – Drunen
Gasterij de Koffiemolen – Valkenburg
Moeder de gans – Teuven
Curious as this two-year-old rascal is
Like a little shadow, Jimmy follows me everywhere. Curious as this two-year-old rascal is, he sticks his nose into absolutely everything, which means that taking photographs for blogs or Instagram can sometimes be quite a challenge.
Below are the photographs as I originally intended them to be, alongside the versions where our little fellow decided he wanted a say in the creative direction
A large bottle of ink close at hand
What question would you ask your ancestors if you could write them an old-fashioned letter?
Memory is a way...
History and the past are all around us. I hope you enjoy them just as much as I do.
Thank you for reading, and until next time!
Love,
Tanya
“Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”– The Wonder Years
For more inspiration, be sure to visit my Styling & Living Instagram account.
