Edgar Guest

Scenes From The Cottage: The Bedroom

January 22, 2015 at 9:33 am by Claudia

I’d say the “Master” bedroom, but really, let’s be honest here. We have two bedrooms. One functions as a guest bedroom/office/studio. The other is the one we sleep in. So I’m not going to use the somewhat grandiose Master. Come to think of it, Master of what? Of his domain? Of his lands?

And why not Mistress? Or Master and Mistress?

I’m starting a movement to cease and desist using the term “Master Bedroom” unless you have an estate in the country with servants in the house and serfs working your land.

The bedroom is tucked under the eaves, which makes furniture placement a challenge – to put it mildly. But it’s cozy, that’s for sure.

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It’s impossible to take a picture of the entire room. I’ve tried.

Those of you who have been following this blog for a while will remember the new California King bed we ordered last year and the delivery saga that ensued. We ended up having to sleep in the full sized bed in the other room for about a month. To say we were in tight quarters is an understatement. But the new bed has been with us almost a year now and we love it. LOVE IT.

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No, I don’t iron my pillowcases, not even for a photo shoot. I can’t be bothered. I do make my bed every day, though. I cannot handle an unmade bed unless I’m sick.

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A couple of years ago, when Don was away working, I went on a mad painting spree. The furniture in the room had a variety of wood finishes, many of them darkish. We have two small windows in this room, so I decided a creamy white was in order. It looks much better, though I worried it would be a bit feminine for Don. He assured me that he didn’t care because he was only in the bedroom when it was time to sleep.

A practical guy.

The dresser was found on a street in Cambridge when I was living there. Free. My friend and I carried it for about four city blocks and then up four flights of stairs. I’ve had it for about 23 or 24 years. It’s been painted gray, then yellow, and now aqua and cream.

The vintage rocker needs some repair and I plan on attending to that shortly. I love that rocker. I crocheted that throw and made the quilt, as well.

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A vintage tea towel as dresser scarf, assorted jewelry, a silver pillbox from Tiffany’s given to me by my late mentor and his partner, my grandmother’s lamp, my great-grandmother’s tea chest, and a photo of my late brother and me.

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A photo of me when I was teaching at Boston University (oh, to be that young again), some McCoy and Roseville pottery, and Don’s head shot (which I took).

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A pansy print that I bought while working in Owensboro, Kentucky. I love the print and the vintage frame. A D hook from Anthropologie which holds my necklaces (most of which I never wear). D for Don, by the way. I also had the C, but I couldn’t find it when I was putting this up. So the D won.

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I coveted and salivated over this painting for over a year. It was in a shop in San Diego – Vignettes – and as I went back and forth to SD to coach a few shows, I would see it and gaze upon it and then I would walk away because it was too expensive for me.

Finally, I took a picture and sent it to Don, talked it over with him and got his approval, and then drove to Vignettes where Lori, the owner, told me that she had wrapped it up for a customer and was getting ready to put the sale through when the customer changed his mind. All the while, she had been thinking that I was going to be so upset when I saw it was gone.

That clinched it. I bought it. I always knew it would go on this section of the wall that surrounds the chimney.

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Impatiens brought in for the winter.

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Egg cups. And a Christie Repasy print.

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Beautiful Japanese wood block prints on rice paper. These are Don’s. He bought them when he was courting me and living in the company housing provided by the Old Globe. He wanted something to personalize his living space.

On my side of the room:

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Books and lots of ’em. There are books behind books – two layers deep.

The black and white photograph of a rose was taken by my late brother, there’s vintage mirror my mom bought me when I was visiting them in Michigan, another parakeet lamp that I found (!) that needs some rewiring, photos of Winston and Riley and Scout.

The lone wolf print was purchased while we were living in San Diego.

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My traveling pals: Maggie Rabbit, Wayfrum Holmes, Little Lamb. They’re sitting on a vintage hatbox I found many years ago in the Berkshires. And that’s Home, by Edgar Guest. I found it in a local antique shop last year.

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More books. A bit blurry, but you get the picture. They’re everywhere.

There’s also a cabinet to the left of my dresser that our old behemoth of a television sits on, but I didn’t get a photo of it, though there’s one elsewhere on this blog.

On a sunny day like today, the bedroom is filled with a lovely, rosy glow. And though I’d love more wall space, instead of the half-walls, there is something wonderful about being tucked under the eaves in an attic bedroom.

Any questions? Feel free to ask in the comments section.

Happy Thursday.

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An Edgar Guest Treasure

January 12, 2015 at 9:24 am by Claudia

You already know I’ve been slowly collecting the poems of Edgar Guest, who was my dad’s godfather. He was a very popular poet, known as the People’s Poet, was a reporter for the Detroit Free Press, had a long-running radio show and was, from everything I hear about him, a great guy.

I wrote about him recently when I found another volume of his poems. The other day, a package arrived in the mail from my cousin Eileen. Eileen’s mother was my Aunt Lettie, my dad’s sister. Aunt Lettie was my favorite aunt (my vintage dress form, Letitia, is named after her) and was the member of my dad’s immediate family who kept all the family records and memorabilia. She knew all the stories. Thank goodness she did. When Aunt Lettie died, Eileen inherited a lot of that memorabilia.

Back to the package. I opened it up and inside was a note from Eileen saying that my posts about Edgar Guest reminded her of something that was in Grandma Hill’s things. She wanted me to have it.

It’s a booklet. Let me show it to you.

Pelletiers1

It’s about 8 x 10 inches. As far as Eileen and my cousin Mike can remember, the Pelletiers were friends of my grandparents. I asked my dad and he concurs, but as the youngest kid in a family of six kids, he doesn’t remember much more than that. It sounds like the Pelletiers, the Guests and the Hills were all friends.

I don’t know whether this sweet booklet was sent out as a Christmas greeting or for some other reason, but let’s look inside:

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Each page has a photo of the Pelletier’s home in the country, which was clearly a place that Edgar Guest loved to visit. We’re not sure where it was, and my dad reminds me that what was considered the ‘country’ in those days could have been on the outskirts of Detroit.

The little booklet is full of poems that Guest wrote about the Pelletiers. (Pronounced, according the rhymes in the poems – PEL a TEARS. Or maybe PEL TEARS?) I’ve done a bit of research and some of these poems were published. All of them may have been published, I just haven’t got that far.

Pelletiers -at pelletiers

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It’s full of photos of their house, their horses…

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Their prize cow, which Mr. Pelletier purchased for a rather exorbitant sum.

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Their rather elegant dogs.

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The living room of their home, which reminds me an awful lot of the living room in the Craftsman-style house we rented in San Diego. The photo caption on this one is “Caught Napping.” There’s another photo with a Mission-style rocker, so we’re talking early 1900’s (maybe 1910-20 at the latest?) which is also evident by the hair styles of the women and their dresses. I’ll have to take a picture of that photo and share it with you at a later date.

I’m still researching the Pelletiers. Their names come up as residents of Detroit and certainly in Guest’s poem titles. Interestingly, the announcer for Guest’s radio show was Vincent Pelletier, a well-known announcer in the days of radio. Whether he was some sort of relation to these Pelletiers, I don’t know.

Isn’t this amazing?

Imagine how flattered the Pelletiers must have been to have their pal, Edgar Guest, write poems about them!

I don’t know how many of these booklets the Pelletiers sent out, but I can’t imagine there are many of them around. One library has a copy of it in their archives, but that’s the only mention of the actual booklet I’ve found.

I am so thrilled to have this in my Edgar Guest collection. Thank you, Eileen.

My dad’s parents both died before I was born, so the only way I ‘know’ them is through the stories of my dad and aunt. I have a lot of things that were my maternal grandmother’s, but nothing from the Hill side of the family. That is, until last year, when Eileen sent me this:

Pelletiers-grandmahill

A tiny little china dog, marked Germany, that was my Grandma Hill’s. She was of German descent. When I opened that package (not long after my mother’s death) and read Eileen’s note, I started crying. Funny how that happens. It meant more to me than I had ever realized it would to have something from the grandmother I never knew. I don’t know how old this little guy is, but Eileen tells me he sat on their hutch for as long as she can remember.

Neither Eileen or I knew Grandma Hill. Neither did my sisters. I’m not sure about my brother; if he knew her at all, he was just a baby. So this little guy means a great deal and I was so touched that Eileen shared him with me.

New post up on Just Let Me Finish This Page.

Happy Monday.

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Adventures, Day Two

December 31, 2014 at 9:04 am by Claudia

Two days, two day trips. That’s a big deal for homebodies like us. We took off again yesterday in search of chairs. Gosh darn it, we didn’t find even one! But we had fun. We drove across the river again, this time to Hyde Park (home of FDR) to visit one of our favorite antique shops.

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I always see lots and lots of treasures there. I find I am much less inclined than I used to be to bring something home unless I know I have room to display it or simply cannot imagine existing without it. That narrows the list of possibilities down quite effectively.

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This volume (with the green cover) came home with me because I do have room to display it. I collect books by the American poet Edgar Guest. You can see a few others to the left of my new find. Edgar Guest was not only a very popular poet, he was my dad’s godfather and a friend to our family. He and his son Bud Guest were well-loved Detroiters. I don’t often find his books, so when I find one in good condition, I grab it.

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Heap O’Livin was part of the opening line of his more well known poems – Home. You might remember that I found a framed version of it about a year ago.

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I wrote a post called Collecting Edgar Guest that you might be interested in. It gives more background information on Mr. Guest. I wish I’d been lucky enough to know him.

As the chair search continued, we moved on to another shop in Hyde Park and then drove up to Rhinebeck, one of my favorite towns in the Hudson Valley. It was very cold outside and we were hungry, so we grabbed a couple of slices of pizza, then proceeded on to another favorite antique center. No chairs. But there was a Maxfield Parrish original print that I want very badly. One of my first posts ever on this blog was about Maxfield Parrish and how much I love his work. I’ve wanted an original print for years but have never been able to purchase one. It was never the right time. This antique shop had three of them. I thought about putting the one that won my heart on layaway. But I decided to walk away and, if it still calls to me after a couple of days, I’ll go back.

Oh, it was gorgeous! And just the right size for a cottage that already has a lot of treasures hanging on its walls and very little available wall space.

For the second day in a row, we were treated to a simply spectacular sunset as we drove home. This one was amazing. Don stopped the car on the side of the road so I could take a photo.

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From the moving car.

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After we stopped. The sky looked like it was on fire. Incredible.

Here we are at the end of another year – years which seem to be slipping by all too quickly. We have no plans tonight other than to toast the New Year with some Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider. I seriously doubt whether I’ll be able to make it to midnight.

Be safe as you celebrate, my friends. See you in 2015.

Happy Wednesday.

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Scenes From The Cottage: The Bedroom

An Edgar Guest Treasure

Adventures, Day Two

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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