Oldest Antique

 Antiques

Here are responses received from my faithful readers:

ITV: The dryer!

VEV: No doubt about it - moi!

AVH: Does your avocado green dryer count? ;) If not, how about the black lacquered Chinese screen? To VEV's answer (which was SENT TO ALL), AVH says: Haha I thought about that same answer!

'Oldest antique' is featured in the blog that follows.

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GOLDEN AGER

If things get better with age, then we must be getting close to freakin' magnificent. -  Unknown

What do you call an old folk? 

'Old' sounds a little rude. 'Senior?' Tolerable, but so high school. 'Older adult' sounds politically correct, but it doesn't say very much. 'Older' than what?

Well, how about 'super adult'?

I suppose that's what VEV is.

He is the oldest antique in the house.

Still Feeling Spry at Almost Eighty. Canada: 2024

When he was younger, everyone over the age of thirty looked middle-aged. Everyone over fifty, antique.

Time, as it went by, confirmed that he wasn't wrong. Those little age differentials, so crucial and so gross when he was young, eroded. He had been swept into the silver tsunami of the non-young. 

He might have wondered.

What happened?!! 

But heck, forget that.

Long live 

being vintage

and

fabulous!

Geri-Active And Unstoppable. Photo: ITV, Miller's Country Gardens, Delaware, OH: October 2024

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DECISION ON CONTEST WINNER

A comment on proceedings has been raised. ITV said that the two other respondents were both automatically disqualified for not following directions.

Also, this just in.

Received from ITV: Do you accept bribes? Like a margarita from The Goat on Harvest Night?

Comment from AVH: ITV is automatically disqualified for offering bribes. How will I get my slice of gourmet pie?

After careful consideration by a panel of distinguished judges, here is the final decision. 

Resident Judges: Shane the Possum, Beau Bean the Gerbil, and Chip the Chipmunk

VEV, you got the correct answer, but your prize is voided because you violated the contest rule of respond to sender only. As a consolation prize, you'll get carrot shavings, two pumpkin seeds, and an acorn.

Because of the foregoing invalidation, the category has been re-set to Next-In-Line Oldest House Antique (after LAMP and DRESSER). 

The correct answer is DRYER.

Maytag Dryer, circa 1976

For giving the correct answer and following the rule of reply-to-sender only, but influencing contest outcome with a probable felony (hic!), ITV loses... wait...er.. hmm.. Yay! I just love everyone! (hic!). Zhe gehts one big slizze av' pie. (Hic!)

For agreeing with VEV's correct answer though not responding to sender only, making a partially-correct guess (DRYER is not avocado green, it is poopy yellow), and positive attitude that she would win, AVH gets the grand prize of one slice of gourmet pie/cake.

It will be shipped to you by ITV. Trust her!

COONGRADULATIONZZS! 

P.S. No morre contests. (Hic!) YOU'rre ALL a probblematic concern!

Hickory Dickory Dock

 Antiques

Don't watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going. - Anonymous

What a timely advice (pun totally intended).

A wall clock that graced the topmost reachable wall in our southwest home for five years, and which has continued to be a wall feature in our current mid-west home has inspired me to live by this motto.

I remember being obsessed with it.

It plays Westminster chimes on the quarter, half, and hour counts with each swing of a brass-finished pendulum. An off-white dial, surrounded by a brushed brass bezel, features gold Roman numerals and ornate, black hands.

Its architectural good looks have survived through the years, though twice-repaired for its chimes. I have relished looking up at it, positioned high on the loft wall, a perfect mix of traditional elegance and contemporary lines and texture.

Westminster Chime Wall Clock, Service Merchandise (now defunct), Phoenix, Arizona: Circa 1978

It has been a summons to not count every hour in the day, but to make every hour count.

That the clock is ticking. Hickory dickory dock!

That time is about making moments.

Live.       

Perhaps I should have bought

this clock instead?

Hickety, dickety, dock!

Red Chest of Memories

 Antiques

The passage of time is surely divine and is filled with rhythm and reason whatever the season. - Anonymous

I look at this chest of drawers and wish I could go back in time and watch the girls grow up all over again.

They were only toddlers when they were gifted a used dresser by a friendly grandmother who lived in the Windy City apartment across from us.

It is short and sturdy and, at that time, aged brown since it had been in our neighbor's storage for I didn't know how long. I couldn't even identify its wood nor its age by its legs. 

Did I know to inspect if its dovetail joints had thin adhesives or sealants in between? Perhaps as an indication of vintage.

Nope. I didn't know enough to care.

Drawer Chest, Chicago, Illinois: Circa 1964

All I knew was that it was a much-needed furniture in what we had fondly called Little Room, which was the girls', as opposed to Big Room, the parents' room.

Painted a cheerful red, it soon got crammed with tiny little clothes.

I remember.

Itty bitty pants and flowered jammies, socks and wee dresses, undershirts and bibs. In pinks and baby blue and yellow.

From Chicago, it has traveled with us to various homes.

Now residing in the Grandkids' Room in our current home, it holds scant beddings for the bunk bed, stuffed animal pillows, a dragon-hooded towel, a box of Lite-Brite Classic, puzzles, and painting supplies for when the grandkids visited or slept over.

It sometimes fills me with an overwhelming rush of sadness when I gaze at it, for in the blink of an eye, even the grandkids have grown up so fast. Time is passing swiftly, rushing forward, everything seemingly gone as quickly as a dream.

Yet the thought that nothing can ever actually be lost consoles me.

For the most treasured heirlooms are memories.

And with those, even when I can't go back, I can always move forward.

Nighttime Beacon

  Antiques

Looking around the house, I can see how it has become the repository of what could now be high-value collectibles. 

I never tire looking at them, as each tells a story. Purchased from stores that are now mostly defunct, their allure has not faded. They let me experience memories that sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. 

So, in this series, I invite you to travel through time and enjoy the history and patina of home vintage finds with me.

*****

In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary. - Aaron Rose 

A lamp does not speak. It introduces itself through its light.

I concur.

A brass torchiere floor lamp was one of our purchases when we moved to a high-rise apartment in the Windy City way back in the mid-70's.

Full of old-world character, it provided a handsome lighting solution with its slender, clean-lined silhouette. The lamp features an ornamental, vintage-style lantern paired with a single-light glass shade (unfortunately broken and seemingly irreplaceable).

I've always thought it is classic.

Brass Torchiere Floor Lamp, Wickes Furniture (now defunct), Chicago, Illinois: Circa 1974

Set between the leather sofa bed and the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, it emitted just enough ambient light that highlighted a view of the clawing waves of Michigan Lake on Lakeshore Drive.

It stayed with us when we moved southwest. Against a window on the bare living room of our ranch-style home in Casa Grande, it silhouetted a sleepy little street outside and a landscape, flat and sparse.

A year after that, in a home in Arizona's capital city, the stairwell could be darkened and shadows would play on the oak walls of the tri-level living room, but there it was - lighting the nights that turned into a night, a day, and another impossibly long night.

Lamp with glass shade still intact,

Christmas in Chicago: 1976

It almost always has been relegated at the corner of the main living  room. 

That's where it is currently, by the piano, against a picture window in our mid-west home.  Old. Worn and faded. 

But it continues to be a beacon.

As it highlights fat robins hidden in the shadows or a lone hummingbird scampering for a last sip of nectar on a teetering feeder.

As it quietly throws random memories like confetti.

As it continues to teach that life could be converted into a festive promenade, even as the heavy overcast sky steals the sun's light.