Sometimes a memory.....

...will appear at the most unusual time;  take "klinkers" for example:  we were talking about the beautiful homes that were damaged when a dike broke from heavy rains and the muddy water followed the natural channel down to the river.  The homes were built on the flood plane under a level of trust that the  dike would hold, forever.  Then I remembered how the fruit cellar would flood each spring because the water table was so high and Mother would have to put on the knee-high rubber boots and step on cinder blocks to get to the jars of fruit.  Then my mind wandered up the cellar stairs to the back porch and then the furnace room, to the coal bin, remembering my dad shoveling coal each morning to feed the furnace and then the furnace itself.  The heavy cast iron door had a round wire handle and when open would make you reel with the blast of hot, flaming klinkers.  Then I remembered the marble maker (at least that is what we thought it was).  It was discovered by my brother in an old shed somewhere.  The two long metal handles came together at the end with two small round casings that fit together like a waffle maker.  Clay was dug up from a deep hole out in the garden, a little ball was formed and put in the mold.  I remember my brother placing the marble maker in the klinkers for a period of time and ending up with a nice little hard ball.  The only other thing that I know about klinkers is that they have to be discarded on a regular basis and can be used like gravel to fill holes in the farmyard and that you never want to walk on them in bare feet!