06/14/2026
I didnāt grow up on a farm. There are many things I am still learning. I think I will always feel a little āleft outā in the sense that some of this stuff is not just intuitive to me. My farmer has always been so gracious.
Yet, I too have a rich story. Itās not a dairy story. But itās part of who I am. š¤I grew up in East Providence, RI. So did my parents. And my Grandparents. And my Great Grandparents. My maternal grandparents lived right behind us. My dadās father was the town treasurer. Though I never knew him. He died when my dad was 12. Thereās still a golf tournament named after him for a Scholarship at the High School. The Dolly Searle Golf Tournament. But I grew up with lots of family around and generations in the same town.
This clutch in the photo was my momās. I remember her storing it in the bag with her white stole, and hand m**f. As a little girl I loved watching her put on her make up and get ready to go out.
When we were going through momās stuff, years ago, I brought home the clutch. Inside were name cards from weddings she had attended and coat claim tags. Through the years I have used the same clutch and added name cards.
It brings me great joy to carry it. Do you hold memories like that? š¤