It seems that every time I've been tagged for one of those blog memes in the last year or two, I've copied and pasted it into a word document, played with it for a few minutes, and then never published it. So today it's time to clean out my files.
It's time for . . . MEME-O-RAMA 2010 . . . consider yourself tagged . . . and I apologize in advance for the spacing - I suspect it's going to me a mess!
Two-Word Meme : Use two words to answer the following questions
Where is your cell phone? Purse probably
Your hair? wet curls
Your mother? Anxiety producing
Your father? Rocket scientist
Your favorite food? Ice cream
Your dream last night? Forgotten about
Your favorite drink? Milo's tea
Your dream/goal? Healthy motherhood
What room are you in? Computer room
Your hobby? Antiquing photographer
Your Fear? Losing O
Where do you want to be in 6 years? With O
Where were you last night? Snuggled up
Something that you aren’t? enjoying humidity
Muffins? Yes please
Wish list item? One guess
Where did you grow up? My favorite
Last thing you did? drank water
What are you wearing? comfy comfy
Your TV? Real Housewives
Your pets? Spoiled rotten
Friends? Many wonderful
Your life? So blessed
Your mood? Cautiously optimistic
Missing someone? My grandparents
Vehicle? Needs vacuuming
Something you’re not wearing? Pink socks
Your favorite store? Williams Sonoma
Your favorite color? Periwinkle Blue
When was the last time you laughed? This morning
Last time you cried? Yesterday afternoon
One place you go to over and over? Husband’s arms
One person who emails me regularly? dear Karen
Favorite place to eat? Mexican mmmmmm
99 Things (Everything that I have accomplished is in bold)
1. Started your own blog (twice)
2. Slept under the stars (on the beach of Jekyll Island GA)
3. Played in a band (I played flute in my middle school band)
4. Visited Hawaii (for 3 weeks – HEAVEN!)
5. Watched a meteor shower (The Perseid Meteor Shower, both out in the desert near the Great Salt Lake with friends, and laying in the back of our pickup in our pasture with my wonderful husband.)
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disney World
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo (not happening!)
11. Bungee jumped (DEFINITELY NOT HAPPENING)
12. Visited Paris (twice – for several weeks each time – LOVED IT and miss it!)
13. Watched a lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (quilting)
15. Adopted a child (Ahem….)
16. Had food poisoning
17. Seen the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables (we have a garden every year and grow pumpkins in the fall)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in person
20. Slept on an overnight train (from Switzerland to Italy)
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch-hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (we anonymously pay for police officers’ meals in restaurants on occasion)
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Swam under a waterfall
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater (There is one two minutes from our house.)
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving (see #11 above)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check (once, accidentally)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square (New Year’s Eve 1999 with a million+ of my closest friends)
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London (I was at the palace but didn’t stay for the changing of the guards – wonder why?!??!)
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
25 random things:
1. I crawl into bed like a little kid instead of sitting on the edge and swinging my legs around.
2. I don’t like the Beatles’ music. Even a little bit. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.
3. O and I met online. His was the first and only profile I responded to.
4. The first night we spoke, I hung up the phone, looked up at the stars, and said, “I’m going to marry that boy.” I just knew.
5. When I clean house, I usually put Tom Cruise’s “War of the Worlds” on the TV in the den and turn it up loud.
6. The best concert I ever saw was James Taylor, at an outdoor venue in the mountains of Park City Utah.
7. I am a ridculously obsessive college football fan.
8. When those Sarah McLaughlan dog/cat abuse commercials come on, I immediately plug my ears and close my eyes until they go off. I am ridiculously tenderhearted when it comes to animals.
9. Holding a gun makes my knees feel weak, like what happens when I stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon.
10. I am the world’s worst surfer. Literally. Couldn’t even sit on the board.
11. If I could live anywhere other than my home state, I’d move to the Oregon Coast or the Gettysburg PA area.
12. I have to have my feet covered when I sleep or the booger man will get me.
13. I am proud to be from the South.
14. I cannot stand for people to drop by my house without calling. If they call, 95% of the time they are welcomed to come, but I think it is beyond rude to just show up and ring someone's doorbell.
15. I can't pronounce the word "rural" properly without it sounding like I am rolling a marble around in my mouth.
16. I remember the moment I found out Donny Osmond was engaged. I was in 4th grade and my little heart broke. I was sure he'd wait for me. I promptly took a pencil and blacked out his teeth in his engagement photo.
17. Shaun Cassidy soon came along and made everything all better.
18. Morning glories and hydrangeas are my favorite flowers.
19. I usually tear up during the national anthem, and DEFINITELY tear up when military planes do fly-overs at sporting events. I don't even have to be there and it gives me chills.
20. One of my g-g-g-g uncles was killed at the Battle of Champion's Hill near Vicksburg MS during the Civil War. His uncle who was fighting along side him had him buried under a big tree, separately from the other dead soldiers, in case his family was able to come retrieve his body. (They did not.) I secretly hope that someday, I might be able to find his burial spot. (I have transcribed his journals and letters from the Civil War and feel like I know him.)
21. I love to wash clothes. I love to dry clothes. I hate everything that comes after that.
22. I always have a big glass/bottle of water with me wherever I go.
23. I can't sleep if the comforter/bedspread is on the hotel bed. I wake up all during the night to make sure it's not touching me. O quickly learned that the first thing we do when we walk into a hotel room is bunch up the bedspread and deposit it in the corner. And then wash our hands.
24. My husband is the best person I have ever met - hands down.
25. If I was stranded on a desert island with a DVD player and could have one movie or TV show, it would be "Sex and the City".
In the last 72 hours, I have:
1. Gone to an auction filled with incredible antiques but nothing that I really wanted to buy
2. Communicated with someone I swore I’d never communicate with again
3. Heard “I love you” from my husband at least 50 times
4. Talked to a girlfriend on the phone and laughed my head off
5. Re-watched the “Real Housewives of NYC” reunion show (okay, twice)(okay, three times)
6. Teared up watching a baseball player hit a grand slam on the first pitch of his first major league at-bat - what a great background story the kid has
7. Curled up with a good book
8. Had a friend and her two pups over for a play date with our dog
9. Gone into our “child’s room” for the first time in a couple of months
10. Wished for fall, over and over and over again . . . TOO HOT!!!!
The Eights
8 TV Shows that I watch:
1. Real Housewives – all seasons
2. Pawn Stars
3. Deadliest Catch
4. American Pickers
5. Top Chef
6. Ghosthunters on SciFi
7. Judge Judy – yes, I said it! JJ is the highest rated syndicated show on TV, including Oprah, so I'm not the only one!
8. Antiques Roadshow
8 Things I look forward to:
1. smooching my husband when he gets home from work
2. getting a call from Mark’s social worker ( O has left another message this morning)
3. our trip to New England this fall
4. having two dear girlfriends visit from near and far for July 4th weekend
5. spending Father’s Day with my daddy
6. Sept. 4 – the start of college football season
7. getting my hair cut
8. part 2 of the “Real Housewives” reunion tonight (again, no judging)
8 Things I wish for: (in no particular order)
1. I wish for O and I to have a long, healthy life together.
2. I wish for BP to cap that damned oil well NOW.
3. I wish for an in-ground swimming pool – we kick the idea around from time to time.
4. I wish for my team to win a Notional Championship this year.
5. I wish for my girlfriend’s son to prove all the doctors wrong and live a long, healthy life.
6. I wish for autumn and beautiful leaves and sweaters and crisp air and cider.
7. I wish for my husband to be happy, always.
8. You know what my 8th wish is, don’t you?
8 Things I Regret: (in no particular order)
1. I regret quitting piano lessons
2. I regret loaning my former best friend money - it ultimately lead to the end of our friendship
3. I regret gaining back a lot of the 100 pounds I lost several years ago
4. I regret not spending more time with my grandparents
5. I regret not breaking ties with my “maid of honor” after her behavior in the days and weeks leading up to my wedding. Our relationship went on for 6 years longer than it should have.
6. Hmmm – there isn’t much more I regret. Sure, I’ve made mistakes in my life but in retrospect, I just don’t have a lot of things I still regret. I guess that’s good.
The Fives
Snacks I enjoy
1. ice cream
2. popcorn
3. bananas
4. chips & my homemade salsa
5. peanut butter toast
Things I would do if I were a millionaire
1. pay off our mortgage
2. buy my husband a tractor (he is obsessed with them)
3. go to the fall antiques shows in Nashville and fill up my car with treasures
4. make a huge donation to an animal rescue organization
5. put in a huge in-ground swimming pool
Bad habits I have
1. cursing – not as often as I used to, but still too much
2. biting my nails
3. being impatient
4. not trusting my instincts
5. liking chocolate way too much
Jobs I have held
1. pizza maker
2. nanny
3. medical office manager
4. writer
5. antiques dealer
Monday, June 14, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Time For Some Windex
D and I were headed to dinner tonight and I happened to glance at my backseat passenger window.
It was covered with Mark's smudgy little handprints.
I miss smudgy little hands. So much.
It was covered with Mark's smudgy little handprints.
I miss smudgy little hands. So much.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Ain't That a Kick in the Pants?
I had a few minutes to kill earlier today so I was zipping around on the innernets to see what I could see. A quick check of a few favorite blogs, a google search for the “Real House**wives of NYC” to see what everyone had to say about their reunion show the night before (it was 60 minutes of delightful, let me tell you!), and a peek at the local auctions to see if there was a fun one for O and I to attend this weekend.
I glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but sigh. Mark’s court hearing has come and gone this week and while I knew that the judge wouldn’t rule immediately, I asked SW to please call or e-mail to give us an idea of how things went for the birth family in court. Not a word.
I glanced at the calendar and sighed again. Friday afternoon – just a few hours and the SW’s will pack up their files and folders and call it a week. No chance of any phone calls or any progress for 60+ hours. At least. It’s no wonder that I’ve come to look forward to Mondays. A new week means that unless SW’s are on vacation, they will have five more days to make progress on the cases of any of the kids who are on our radar. Five days that we might even get a call about a brand new child. Five whole days!
Only a few minutes remained before I had to zip off to run my errands, and I was thinking about adoption. I wondered, just in passing, if there was a patron saint of adoption. My friend google told me that there are three: Saint Thomas More, Saint Clotilde & Saint William of Rochester.
Saint Clotilde?
I glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but sigh. Mark’s court hearing has come and gone this week and while I knew that the judge wouldn’t rule immediately, I asked SW to please call or e-mail to give us an idea of how things went for the birth family in court. Not a word.
I glanced at the calendar and sighed again. Friday afternoon – just a few hours and the SW’s will pack up their files and folders and call it a week. No chance of any phone calls or any progress for 60+ hours. At least. It’s no wonder that I’ve come to look forward to Mondays. A new week means that unless SW’s are on vacation, they will have five more days to make progress on the cases of any of the kids who are on our radar. Five days that we might even get a call about a brand new child. Five whole days!
Only a few minutes remained before I had to zip off to run my errands, and I was thinking about adoption. I wondered, just in passing, if there was a patron saint of adoption. My friend google told me that there are three: Saint Thomas More, Saint Clotilde & Saint William of Rochester.
Saint Clotilde?
Saint Clotilde?
Why in the world would that sound familiar to me? I’m not Catholic. I know next to nothing about saints, except those in New Orleans, but I was sure that I KNEW that name from somewhere.
So I kept reading.
Clotilde was the second wife of the Frankish (French) king Clovis I. Born in 475, she was instrumental to her husband's famous conversion from paganism to Christianity and, in her later years, was “known for her almsgiving and penitential works of mercy”.
So I kept reading.
Clotilde was the second wife of the Frankish (French) king Clovis I. Born in 475, she was instrumental to her husband's famous conversion from paganism to Christianity and, in her later years, was “known for her almsgiving and penitential works of mercy”.
Now dangit! Clovis I sounded familiar too. Why would I recognize the name of a French king from over 1500 years ago? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
And when the lightbulb went off, I still thought, "SURELY NOT!"
I went and opened the file I've complied on my grandmother's family tree. I love and adore researching my family history and have spent years going back centuries in search of my ancestors.
Do you know why Saint Clotilde sounded familiar?
And why a Baptist girl from the US would know that name?
Because Saint Clotilde is my 53rd great grandmother.
Let me repeat . . .
Because Saint Clotilde is my 53rd great grandmother.
Let me repeat . . .
One of my great grandmothers is the patron saint of adoption.
ADOPTION, people!!!!!!
Now ain’t that a seriously ironic kick in the pants?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Dry Erase Board
I have a dry erase board hanging by my desk. Down in the right corner I have my most-important-yet-not-committed-to-memory phone numbers of girlfriends and our vet. In the lefthand corner is the mailing address for our local D*C*F*S, and the direct line numbers of two social workers we’ve worked with in the past few months. There’s a college football schedule for our team. (Less than three months till kickoff!) I’ve also jotted down reminders of the TV shows I want to watch, the birthdays of people we love, and when our pup and kitties get their monthly medicines.
And then there are the names: Mark, Jason, Chris – each with dates beside them. These are the beautiful children whose parents we’d love to be, and the dates that their cases go back to court.
We’re coming up on the first one of those this week – for little Mark. He was two days from moving into our home and we had to make the difficult decision to walk away from him. I’ve talked before about the situation, in as much detail as I can post on this blog. We knew going into it that he’d be a legal risk placement – that his birth family was working on getting him back. O and I vowed not to let our hearts be swept away by this child. That lasted all of about 15 minutes and we were both thoroughly hooked.
Mark fit so perfectly into our life. He seemed so happy with us and was very appropriately bonded and loving by the end of the time we spent together. Our decision to walk away was made very quickly - the result of being blindsided by something we couldn’t have anticipated. When you reach out to four knowledgeable people whom you respect and they all tell you to walk away, and when that advice mirrors your own gut instincts, you are left with very few choices.
We think of Mark every day and miss him so much but we don’t regret the choice that we made.
I was finally able to talk to Mark’s SW yesterday. I really like her – just as much as I like our SW, which is saying a lot. Mark’s birth family’s next court date is this week, and SW said she would not be at all surprised if Mark is sent home, at least on a trial basis. If you know what we do about this birth family, the idea that they would be given yet another opportunity to raise this precious child after screwing up time after time after time – well, it would make you sick.
But that may very well happen and I can tell you right now, if Mark was in our home and we were even MORE bonded to him, and MORE in love with him than we already were . . . well, I think both O and I would be absolute basket cases at this point. My stomach is turning flips just writing about the possibility of him going “home” – it would be exponentially worse if he were here. I cannot imagine.
In the past couple of months, we’ve been left to wonder why we got so close to Mark being placed with us if it was all just going to fall apart so quickly and so dramatically like it did. I haven’t been able to land on an answer, but maybe, just maybe it was to save us from an even worse heartache. Perhaps our pain and sadness then was simply saving us from even more pain and sadness now.
We made it clear to the SW that if this case does, in fact, go to TPR, we want to adopt Mark. From everything she’s said, I believe we will be strongly considered. But for now all we have is a tiny bit of hope along with a stack of photos, some really lovely memories, and a smudged name and date written down on a dry erase board.
Doesn’t seem like much, does it?
It’s not, but we’re hanging onto it with all we’ve got.
And then there are the names: Mark, Jason, Chris – each with dates beside them. These are the beautiful children whose parents we’d love to be, and the dates that their cases go back to court.
We’re coming up on the first one of those this week – for little Mark. He was two days from moving into our home and we had to make the difficult decision to walk away from him. I’ve talked before about the situation, in as much detail as I can post on this blog. We knew going into it that he’d be a legal risk placement – that his birth family was working on getting him back. O and I vowed not to let our hearts be swept away by this child. That lasted all of about 15 minutes and we were both thoroughly hooked.
Mark fit so perfectly into our life. He seemed so happy with us and was very appropriately bonded and loving by the end of the time we spent together. Our decision to walk away was made very quickly - the result of being blindsided by something we couldn’t have anticipated. When you reach out to four knowledgeable people whom you respect and they all tell you to walk away, and when that advice mirrors your own gut instincts, you are left with very few choices.
We think of Mark every day and miss him so much but we don’t regret the choice that we made.
I was finally able to talk to Mark’s SW yesterday. I really like her – just as much as I like our SW, which is saying a lot. Mark’s birth family’s next court date is this week, and SW said she would not be at all surprised if Mark is sent home, at least on a trial basis. If you know what we do about this birth family, the idea that they would be given yet another opportunity to raise this precious child after screwing up time after time after time – well, it would make you sick.
But that may very well happen and I can tell you right now, if Mark was in our home and we were even MORE bonded to him, and MORE in love with him than we already were . . . well, I think both O and I would be absolute basket cases at this point. My stomach is turning flips just writing about the possibility of him going “home” – it would be exponentially worse if he were here. I cannot imagine.
In the past couple of months, we’ve been left to wonder why we got so close to Mark being placed with us if it was all just going to fall apart so quickly and so dramatically like it did. I haven’t been able to land on an answer, but maybe, just maybe it was to save us from an even worse heartache. Perhaps our pain and sadness then was simply saving us from even more pain and sadness now.
We made it clear to the SW that if this case does, in fact, go to TPR, we want to adopt Mark. From everything she’s said, I believe we will be strongly considered. But for now all we have is a tiny bit of hope along with a stack of photos, some really lovely memories, and a smudged name and date written down on a dry erase board.
Doesn’t seem like much, does it?
It’s not, but we’re hanging onto it with all we’ve got.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
One of Those Days
Have I mentioned that I have a serious passion for antiques? Not just any antiques, mind you. I lean towards early (pre-1870's) country and primitive, handmade items.
It started when I was probably 8 or 9. My mom went through an antiques phase, and one afternoon when we were in a former-cotton-warehouse-turned-antiques-shop, she let me buy a curling iron from the early 1900's - the kind that heated on a stove. I was hooked.
I find so many things fascinating about antiques.
The first of course are the items themselves. Because I lean towards early, handmade items, I love to see the craftsmanship (or lack thereof), and wonder who made them and who used them. Did an early 1800's father make that sled for his kids as a Christmas gift? And did they use it through the years, and pass it along to their kids and their kids and their kids until it came to me, all smooth and worn by centuries of fun? Did a mom sew that quilt for her daughter as a wedding gift? And did that quilt cover the daughter minutes after she gave birth to her own daughter? And did that grown daughter lay under it each night praying for her husband to return from war?
The sheer amount of history some of these items have "seen" is staggering, and I feel as if I am just a steward of the antiques in our home - that it's just my job to love them and care for them until they can be passed along to yet another generation.
I also love "antiques people". There is nothing better than going to an antiques show. Of course I'm looking for things to add to my collections, but it's almost as fun to just be there - to feel the excitement in the air and to watch others looking for their own treasures.
There are those who race up and down the aisles, scanning the booths as fast as they can looking for the one piece they need. There are others who come in teams, quickly split up, and talk to each other on walkie talkies about what they're seeing. There are people who see something they want and make every effort to hide the gleam in their eye, 'lest the dealer know that they've got 'em where they want 'em. Others make a beeline for their prize, and can't get their wallets out fast enough to pay for it. There is nothing better than watching someone come across the piece they've always wanted - their joy is palpable.
I also think it's fascinating to watch and wonder why people are drawn to the things they're drawn to. Some people elbow each other to get to the glassware. I'd just as soon have it boxed up and taken out back to the dumpster. Others would look at an 1830's hand-carved treen bowl I am in love with and think, "You paid money for THAT?" As with everything, to each his own.
My collections include: quilts, baskets, handmade stools, early rolling pins, treenware (items made from wood, usually for the kitchen), redware, sleds, dough bowls, heart items (cookie cutters, maple sugar molds, boxes), and on and on. I have a couple of old letters - one a little girl's 1913 letter to Santa, the other a love letter to a young woman from her secret admirer, written in the 1860's.
Possibly my strangest item is a 1600's pewter plate, owned by Jemima Stark who died 21 Feb. 1837 at the age of 77. The plate was struck by lightning in the home of Simeon Abel, her son-in-law, in Bozrah Connecticut, on 22 June 1878. I know this because the information is painted on the back of the plate, which has two chunks blown out of it, presumably by the lightning. LOVE IT!
I have a little bit of everything. You can never tell what I'm going to like - sometimes I can't even tell you WHY I like something - but I definitely know it when I see it.
I don't go to antiques shops very often anymore - at least locally. I find that more and more, they are filled with garage sale type items. There are very few actual antiques to be found - just lots and lots of "collectibles" and vintage items. Since I rarely buy anything made after 1875, they simply aren't the places for me.
However, a couple of weeks ago, O and I spent the day over at my family's mountain. Of course, we don't actually own any of it anymore. It was settled by my grandfather's family in the late 1700's and was named for them. Our family cemetery is near the hollow where my great grandparents' home was, where my grandfather was born. Anyway, we visited a nearby antiques shop that actually had some nice things. I bought an art deco European Christmas tree stand (a departure - I usually stick with earlier American items), and a cast iron bell for the yard. As I was going up to pay, I noticed a phone. It was probably from the 1950's - black, with a rotary dial. I love its' crazy big numbers and the whole look of it - not my style at all, but as I said, I knew I wanted it when I saw it.
I was completely hooked once I stuck my finger in the rotary dial and turned it. It made THAT SOUND. You know THAT SOUND - that clickety clickety click as the dial spins back to its' resting place. It is the sound of me learning to dial a phone when I was little - of calling my grandparents' house to tell them I was coming to play. I LOVE THAT SOUND.
So I spent $25 on hoping that O could fix it. I wasn't too hopeful, though. The part that plugged in the wall was unlike anything I'd ever seen. O said they stopped using that connection in the early '60's.
Well, today my dear husband spent 15 minutes taking it apart and changing a couple of wires and guess what? I have a phone that works perfectly. And the sound of the ringer might make me even happier than the sound of the dialing. So I think I'm going to put it beside my bed. Yes, it might take a bit longer to call 9-1-1 in case of emergency, but if anyone breaks in and tries to accost us, I will simply hit them with the phone's handset which weighs about five pounds.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you giggle with delight. Today is one of those days.
It started when I was probably 8 or 9. My mom went through an antiques phase, and one afternoon when we were in a former-cotton-warehouse-turned-antiques-shop, she let me buy a curling iron from the early 1900's - the kind that heated on a stove. I was hooked.
I find so many things fascinating about antiques.
The first of course are the items themselves. Because I lean towards early, handmade items, I love to see the craftsmanship (or lack thereof), and wonder who made them and who used them. Did an early 1800's father make that sled for his kids as a Christmas gift? And did they use it through the years, and pass it along to their kids and their kids and their kids until it came to me, all smooth and worn by centuries of fun? Did a mom sew that quilt for her daughter as a wedding gift? And did that quilt cover the daughter minutes after she gave birth to her own daughter? And did that grown daughter lay under it each night praying for her husband to return from war?
The sheer amount of history some of these items have "seen" is staggering, and I feel as if I am just a steward of the antiques in our home - that it's just my job to love them and care for them until they can be passed along to yet another generation.
I also love "antiques people". There is nothing better than going to an antiques show. Of course I'm looking for things to add to my collections, but it's almost as fun to just be there - to feel the excitement in the air and to watch others looking for their own treasures.
There are those who race up and down the aisles, scanning the booths as fast as they can looking for the one piece they need. There are others who come in teams, quickly split up, and talk to each other on walkie talkies about what they're seeing. There are people who see something they want and make every effort to hide the gleam in their eye, 'lest the dealer know that they've got 'em where they want 'em. Others make a beeline for their prize, and can't get their wallets out fast enough to pay for it. There is nothing better than watching someone come across the piece they've always wanted - their joy is palpable.
I also think it's fascinating to watch and wonder why people are drawn to the things they're drawn to. Some people elbow each other to get to the glassware. I'd just as soon have it boxed up and taken out back to the dumpster. Others would look at an 1830's hand-carved treen bowl I am in love with and think, "You paid money for THAT?" As with everything, to each his own.
My collections include: quilts, baskets, handmade stools, early rolling pins, treenware (items made from wood, usually for the kitchen), redware, sleds, dough bowls, heart items (cookie cutters, maple sugar molds, boxes), and on and on. I have a couple of old letters - one a little girl's 1913 letter to Santa, the other a love letter to a young woman from her secret admirer, written in the 1860's.
Possibly my strangest item is a 1600's pewter plate, owned by Jemima Stark who died 21 Feb. 1837 at the age of 77. The plate was struck by lightning in the home of Simeon Abel, her son-in-law, in Bozrah Connecticut, on 22 June 1878. I know this because the information is painted on the back of the plate, which has two chunks blown out of it, presumably by the lightning. LOVE IT!
I have a little bit of everything. You can never tell what I'm going to like - sometimes I can't even tell you WHY I like something - but I definitely know it when I see it.
I don't go to antiques shops very often anymore - at least locally. I find that more and more, they are filled with garage sale type items. There are very few actual antiques to be found - just lots and lots of "collectibles" and vintage items. Since I rarely buy anything made after 1875, they simply aren't the places for me.
However, a couple of weeks ago, O and I spent the day over at my family's mountain. Of course, we don't actually own any of it anymore. It was settled by my grandfather's family in the late 1700's and was named for them. Our family cemetery is near the hollow where my great grandparents' home was, where my grandfather was born. Anyway, we visited a nearby antiques shop that actually had some nice things. I bought an art deco European Christmas tree stand (a departure - I usually stick with earlier American items), and a cast iron bell for the yard. As I was going up to pay, I noticed a phone. It was probably from the 1950's - black, with a rotary dial. I love its' crazy big numbers and the whole look of it - not my style at all, but as I said, I knew I wanted it when I saw it.
I was completely hooked once I stuck my finger in the rotary dial and turned it. It made THAT SOUND. You know THAT SOUND - that clickety clickety click as the dial spins back to its' resting place. It is the sound of me learning to dial a phone when I was little - of calling my grandparents' house to tell them I was coming to play. I LOVE THAT SOUND.
So I spent $25 on hoping that O could fix it. I wasn't too hopeful, though. The part that plugged in the wall was unlike anything I'd ever seen. O said they stopped using that connection in the early '60's.
Well, today my dear husband spent 15 minutes taking it apart and changing a couple of wires and guess what? I have a phone that works perfectly. And the sound of the ringer might make me even happier than the sound of the dialing. So I think I'm going to put it beside my bed. Yes, it might take a bit longer to call 9-1-1 in case of emergency, but if anyone breaks in and tries to accost us, I will simply hit them with the phone's handset which weighs about five pounds.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you giggle with delight. Today is one of those days.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Meh
Is it wrong that every time I discuss the latest in our adoption quest with my sister-in-law, and she says, “Well, I’m praying for God's will to be done”, I want to smack* her? Can’t you just pray for us to get a child? Can’t you pray that He will reward our painful, frustrating journey with a beautiful child to love? Can’t you pray for your brother to be a daddy?
Meh.
*Just for clarification. I've never smacked anyone in my life - would never smack anyone. Except maybe Tiger Woods. And whomever is responsible for the whole BP fiasco. They seriously need smacking.
Meh.
*Just for clarification. I've never smacked anyone in my life - would never smack anyone. Except maybe Tiger Woods. And whomever is responsible for the whole BP fiasco. They seriously need smacking.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Time in New England
^ ^ ^ This is how I'm feeling about our current adoption prospects this afternoon. So much has happened – yet nothing has happened. We’re still in holding patterns all over the place.
Every year about this time, O and I start planning our annual fall trip. Two years ago we were kicking around the idea of going to the Oregon Coast. Having lived in Utah for ten+ years, I’d spent many a happy long weekend in Cannon Beach and Depoe Bay and Yachats. I was dying to show it all to O who’d never been.
But I remember being so torn.
Surely, SURELY we’d be getting the call any day that our home study was completed and approved, and we’d soon have a child to love. I hated to book plane tickets and make reservations at my favorite little inns along the coast if we were just going to have to cancel them. Which SURELY we would have to do.
I look back at that poor girl and have to shake my head. So excited. So foolish. I really did think it would just be a matter of weeks before it all worked out for us. We nearly decided not to go on the trip. But we did and it was amazing.
Here we are two years later and it’s time, once again, to start planning our fall getaway.
Yes, we currently have four “irons in the fire” re: adoption. Four of them. Three of those involve what will presumably be make-or-break court dates in the next two months.
Every year about this time, O and I start planning our annual fall trip. Two years ago we were kicking around the idea of going to the Oregon Coast. Having lived in Utah for ten+ years, I’d spent many a happy long weekend in Cannon Beach and Depoe Bay and Yachats. I was dying to show it all to O who’d never been.
But I remember being so torn.
Surely, SURELY we’d be getting the call any day that our home study was completed and approved, and we’d soon have a child to love. I hated to book plane tickets and make reservations at my favorite little inns along the coast if we were just going to have to cancel them. Which SURELY we would have to do.
I look back at that poor girl and have to shake my head. So excited. So foolish. I really did think it would just be a matter of weeks before it all worked out for us. We nearly decided not to go on the trip. But we did and it was amazing.
Here we are two years later and it’s time, once again, to start planning our fall getaway.
Yes, we currently have four “irons in the fire” re: adoption. Four of them. Three of those involve what will presumably be make-or-break court dates in the next two months.
Most people in this situation would think, “It’s ridiculous to plan a several-thousand-mile-trip for the fall when surely, SURELY one of these situations is going to pan out for us.” I wish I was still that person – so naïve and hopeful. I miss her.
But we’ve been through the ringer so many times when it comes to all of this. I can’t even count how often we’ve thought our moment had arrived, only to be left nursing broken hearts again.
I don’t want to become a jaded and cynical person. I fight it all the time. But I DO want to be a realist. And the reality is that there is a good possibility that come October 1st, we are going to be as childless as we are at this very moment.
New England here we come.
But we’ve been through the ringer so many times when it comes to all of this. I can’t even count how often we’ve thought our moment had arrived, only to be left nursing broken hearts again.
I don’t want to become a jaded and cynical person. I fight it all the time. But I DO want to be a realist. And the reality is that there is a good possibility that come October 1st, we are going to be as childless as we are at this very moment.
New England here we come.
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