Autographs of Ainsworth, Part 1: Kitchen Drawer

This morning I am cooking and freezing spaghetti squash from my garden. Each squash has to cook for 12 minutes in the microwave, then sit out until it's cool enough to handle comfortably. Then I'll have to scoop out the seeds, scrape the flesh into strands, put the results from each squash into a gallon-size freezer bag and carry the bags downstairs to the freezer. The skins and seeds go out to the compost heap, the contents of which I've never used but I still feel obligated to put fruit and vegetable scraps out there and feel all virtuous when I do.

All in all, pretty time-consuming.

So let us, while we're waiting on the spaghetti squash, move to the topic of my kitchen drawer, and the people who have there memorialized themselves for eternity, or rather for as long as the house stands — or rather, until somebody paints over the kitchen drawer. Or remodels the kitchen and tears out those cabinets, which appear to be hand-made, and I wouldn't trade them for the fanciest line that Home Depot carries, so it certainly won't be me doing the remodeling.

But back to the drawer. Difficult to photograph; in some cases difficult to read, but here are the signers thereto:

Here is a shot of the whole underside of the kitchen drawer:


(Click on images to enlarge)

Hard to read, no? Then here are the individual signatories:

Sally Lines
Dec. 19, 42
SAT.
[illegible] Mrs. Fasel
Now

"Norma Lines"
April 26, 1948
Monday

May 5, 1944
Janet Lines

"Sal"
May 19, 45
Tuesday

The inside of the drawer was signed in red crayon by Hubert — presumably Hubert Lines, from whom I bought the house.

And then Norma, that mischievous girl, reached inside the socket into which the drawer fits (sorry, I don't know the correct terminology) and signed again:

Norma Lines
April 26, 1949
HA!
HA!
Tues[?]day



That's it for the kitchen autographs. There was one other that I found in the upper cabinets when I pulled up the old contact paper, but I didn't make a note of it and I'm not pulling up all the new contact paper to find it again.

Back to the spaghetti squash.