Tag: vintage

1901 House

Musings on Life and Beauty

Last month when I attended my Aunt Laurie’s funeral in Idaho we stopped for a few minutes at the home of her mother-in-law Leora Brown in Malad, Idaho.  Built in 1901, she and her husband married in 1941.  They raised their family in this house.  She has now buried her husband and two of her sons, one of whom is my uncle, who passed away less than four months before Aunt Laurie.

I couldn’t help but marvel at the irony of walking through the house Uncle Dennis grew up  in… after he is gone.   Leora graciously allowed me to take a few pictures…


The only bathroom in the house, and it had the most amazing wallpaper up in it.  I would never choose it, but still I loved it, and I was amazed at how long it’s been there.

A look at the whole bathroom:


Ten foot ceilings throughout the entire main floor of the house.  Gorgeous.  And  fun detail on the openings between rooms.  More vintage wallpaper.


Awesome transoms above every door.  The glass has been painted on all of them, and on a few there was wallpaper.  I loved that a couple of them will still open.


Original doors still in place, with their original hardware and detail.  Wow.  They’ve been there for more than 100 years.


Upstairs there were sloped rooms, more vintage wallpaper, an armoire filled with quilts Leora has made over the years.  This vintage wallpaper stopped me in my tracks.  Can I have some?  Please?


The house sits on the family farm in Malad, the cemetery just across the ravine.


I really wouldn’t mind watching some sunrises from this spot.  Wouldn’t mind it at all.  It was breathtaking to pause and look up, marveling at the grandeur of the sky.


And then we drove home.   It was a great little stop on our way out of Malad.  Many thanks to all the Browns for sharing this treasure with me.

HH

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Whimsical Vintage Wreath

Christmas, Decorating, Happy Finds



Last spring I picked up this rusted metal wreath for a song.  It was the bow that got my attention, reminding me of something Dr. Seuss would have drawn, but here it was in three dimensional form.  I’ve been waiting all year to use it for Christmas.


I took it with me to a favorite shop where the owner and I played with different ideas.  I wanted to do something to dress it up, but I didn’t want to detract from the whimsical nature of the simple wreath.  We settled on some simple white and clear acrylic sprays  coming out of the bow, and I added a large (5 inch diameter) round Christmas ornament to the center of the bow.


When we held the ornament up to the wreath, we both laughed.  It was so over the top that it was perfect.  The scale was just right for the wreath as a whole, and the bling was just plain funny, especially on the simple rusted metal form.


I love the unexpectedness of the entire thing.  And as usual, I love that it’s one of a kind,  totally original.


It doesn’t hurt that we did it all in neutral colors, either.  I don’t have to take it down in January.  I think this wreath will live in my kitchen for a while, along with these lights .  It adds to a simple but sparkly feel in the room which is just what I need to get through the gray winter.


Every time I walk through the room I look at this wreath and laugh.  I love it.

HH shared here

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Golden Wheat

Dishes, Happy Finds

Last night I made a quick trip to my local thrift store looking for something specific.  Naturally, I didn’t find it, but I did find this:


It was the pattern that made me stop.  A picture of golden wheat on each plate:


My mind’s eye automatically pictured a few treasured pieces of vintage Madeira linen I had at home.
This wheat pattern I have in a set of four placemats.  The detail on them is intricate and lovely.  I marvel that someone spent countless hours placing each stitch by hand.


But this is the piece the china reminded me of most.  A Marghab piece in the New Wheat pattern.  Breathtaking.


In my ultimate Thanksgiving dreams I would have 30 of these placemats to serve Thanksgiving dinner on.  The pattern is so simple and sophisticated.  I love it.

And so I stood there, pondering the china, reflecting on the timeless symbol of golden wheat and how aptly it communicates appreciation for simple things:  for sustenance, for harvests, for the beauty of the earth.  I turned one over.


22 karat gold!  Usually I’m not interested in gold, but my heart quickly made an exception.  I counted the pieces.  Twenty-eight in all.  Twenty-eight pieces of china for $18.  They came home with me.


Later that night I stood at my kitchen sink and carefully washed each piece.  I noticed how the gold has largely washed off many of the dinner plates, leaving only a hint of the shine that once graced each rim.  I noticed stains on a few, and scratches on the wheat image in some places.  I couldn’t help but wonder about whose Thanksgiving table was graced, obviously many times, with these beautiful pieces.  I wondered at the memories the plates held, the family recipes they’ve seen, the conversations held around that table.


Part of me felt sad for whatever twist of fate sent this lovely stack of dishes to the thrift store.  Did someone pass away?  Did enough of them finally break that they no longer were used?   Why did no one want them?

My sister-in-law serves Thanksgiving dinner on her grandmother’s china.  Each year they are carefully washed by hand and stored lovingly.  I watch this ritual take place in honor of a wonderful woman, and feel a twinge of envy that no such heirloom will ever be mine.  I envy the act of remembrance it represents, not the dishes.  I look at my newly acquired china and wonder why no one wished to do the same with it.


I wish to.

My heart whispers a silent “thank-you” for the twist of fate that brought this treasure to my home, for the chance to use them tomorrow.  There aren’t enough for the large group we’re expecting, but we will use them for dessert.  The thought makes me smile.  It means that tomorrow night I get to stand again at my kitchen sink to carefully wash them as I reflect on the memories of the day.  Tomorrow these plates begin a new journey, gathering memories at my kitchen table to be carefully stored away until next year.

The thought makes me smile.  And would you believe there’s even sunshine outside?
Life is good.

Jennifer

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