Antiques – One Day Wonders with JBK

Some may call me a basket case; that’s okay, I’ve been called worse.

Out of the bunch, I think only two have been purchased. The rest were either given to me or I inherited. It makes no difference; I love them all.

In a previous life I made one. I learned enough that I won’t be doing that again. It takes work, space and skill. Another rightfully belongs to my daughter, Naomi. She made it at a long-ago summer camp. To date, she has not been bitten by the basket bug to make any more.

They may have been useful in their day. Apparently the day is over.

Baskets are not all I inherited. My hutch residing in the dining room is chock full of dishes and tea cups that I never asked for. On Facebook I have noted that a china hutch is no longer desirable. That day is over too.

Every once in a while someone will repost that notice that I have quit reading. There was more to the list of undesirables that I house as well. What does a person do that has all these reminders of family members that moved to their eternal home?

Some things I use today fondly recalling my Grandma Andrews standing at her kitchen table busy at work with her enamel mixing bowl. Or drying dishes with my mothers antiquated dish towels that are not nearly as useful as the new ones available today. Thinking of these two women and their ‘tools’ of the trade bring me joy.

It has been said, ‘You can’t take it with you.’ How I wish some of the stuff could have gone with them!

All that being said, I learned my granddaughter, Willow, loves antiques. It thrills the very cockles of my heart that I might be able to dump some of my junk on her! I mean give it to her if she has interest.

A few years ago, we went antiquing together with her Boo when I learned of her love for vintage. Going through the store, I thought, “Good grief girl, you could shop at my house free of charge!”

I since then have given it more thought; she may be more into the Mid-century modern. At some point I’m going to have to inform her that’s not antique. It may be old and trending, but it was ugly then and ugly now.

Oops! An opinion just slipped out. I will have to administer grace to all Mid-century lovers, just as you will have to extend grace that my home looks like that of an old woman.

There is nothing wrong with making your home a place of joy as long as we keep in mind this place is not our eternal home.

I’m betting if we can dump the junk in preparation for that final move; family will be most grateful.

During this COVID season, I have cut back drastically from shopping. Such a pity as I am an excellent shopper. I have a system; beginning to my right, I walk the four outer walls. Then proceed up and down the center aisles, making sure I miss nothing. As I go along, I place items of a potential purchase in my cart. Just before I approach the cashier, I retrace my steps and return my choices back on their respective shelf. I don’t bring much home, but do save a few dollars in the process.

A new home dec store opened in the neighborhood some time back and I could resist no more. The day was reserved on my calendar and I was so anxious I could taste the anticipation. Enough time had passed that I gave myself permission to make a fresh addition to my home. Clearly, I was in a spending mood.

Following the above pattern, I happened along many nice items. They didn’t make it to my cart, though. The place was full bore decked for Halloween. I’m not into spooky, so passed them by. However, I am all over autumn décor. There was much to be had; but a bit glamorous for my taste. Others were a little too scare crow like. Did I mention that I’m picky? I prefer the term selective. Much was priced over what I was willing to spend. Leaving the store, I was disappointed in my inability to satisfy that spending spree I had hoped for.

But wait. Next door is an antique shop. Old and broken in is more my style. Antique stores are not what I remember from my youth. My parents used to frequent them when there was a furniture need; and indeed, the merchandise was vintage. Today, we might find something old, a fair share of refurbished items or new crafts with that aged look. If you are intent on a genuine antique, care must be taken.

I am glad I entered. Because being a genuine antique is not of importance to me, I find myself more open-minded to what strikes my fancy. Today my fancy was struck by a vintage toy we once had for our children. It was a pint-size bench that held round pegs for hammering. Immediately, it brought a smile to my face.

Our first home had four bedrooms upstairs in a revamped attic. There was only one heat register; unacceptable for Michigan winters. The home improvements started with a new furnace and heat ducts for the upper level. The job created quite a racket, more that our little son could handle. When the workers began their hammering, so did Jamie on his toy. I thought was his coping mechanism was clever for a three-year-old.

I’m not quite sure what to call the other purchase I made. Possibly an urn, or maybe a vase? It certainly was not a need but the colors called out to me. Blue and green are a favorite color combo of mine. Showing the purchase to my husband, Dave, I noticed Roseville written on the bottom. I have watched enough of the TV show, Antiques Roadshow, that the name sounded familiar to me. Roseville pottery is of value. There were no other markings to determine if it is the real deal or a knock-off. No matter to me, I like it.

My mother’s words come back to me, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

Another adage, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It makes me so very grateful that Jesus found joy in me before I had joy in him. He might be smiling at us right now.

Tag: Antiques

A Basket Case

Things That Bring A Smile