Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Another find from the shed purge:

I think I bought this when I was living in Cambridge. I collected vintage Fiesta back then and I was drawn to all things with art deco lines. (I still am, that hasn’t changed.) I believe I found this at a shop in Somerville, which is right next door to Cambridge. That little shop was run by two women – I can’t remember how I found it as there was no internet back then – and they often carried vintage Fiesta – the original Fiesta – and I would save my pennies and buy a piece. Slowly but surely, my collection grew bigger. They would often call me to tell me something had come in that they thought I’d like. They had a lot of vintage everything and I found this pitcher, which was made by Universal, there. It’s in great condition, even after being packed away for years. Interestingly, Don is crazy about it. Now, to find a place for it.

We’re going to buy some gray metal shelves, the industrial looking kind you can get at a hardware store. We actually have a set in the shed now, but something corrosive spilled on the shelves and half of the shelves are now rusted and falling apart.

It’s sunny today and wee bit warmer. I think we’re going to hit 58 degrees today. It’s all relative, but that seems positively balmy considering what it’s been like around here for the past two days.

I’m pretty sure we’re going to get our Christmas tree early this year – just as we did last year. That’s not our norm, Last year’s decision to buy one early was spontaneous; due, I think, to a big winter storm coming in. This year, however, I notice more and more people decorating early. I think it’s because we’re desperately in need of some cheer and sparkly lights and ornaments. I know we are.

First, though, Thanksgiving.

Stay safe.

Happy Friday.

 

 

Another two hours or so in the shed yesterday – it was very cold out there! We’ll do more tomorrow and I think that will do it, except for swabbing the floor. The dumpster is nearly full, in fact, we may have to do some additional dumping ourselves after the dumpster is taken away on Monday. I’m not sure everything will fit.

That shed was packed – much of it stuff that we couldn’t fit in our house and didn’t really need. That much is obvious. I did part with a couple of boxes of photos from earlier parts of my life – it was tempting to go through them but I already have way too many photos stashed in this house and the thought of more? No. Plus, they smelled musty. So I had to turn on the “Shirley” part of me – Shirley being my mom. My mom could be ruthless about these things. I know. Where did my Tiny Tears go? How about my Beatles albums? Or my Barbies? Or the piano that is now in my house but almost was sold out from under me (it was mine) because Mom and Dad were going to move and I was living in a studio apartment in Philadelphia and Mom didn’t want to take it with them to their new house? As sentimental as I am about many things, when it’s time to be ruthless with dumping stuff, I can do it.

Don, on the other hand, found lots of musty old souvenirs that he wants to keep but now that he’s smelled them, he’s not sure what to do.

I did find my glass paperweights. I remember chatting to one of you about them a while back – I was pretty sure they were in the shed, but had no idea where. Well, I dug them out of a big box.

Aren’t they pretty? I can’t remember who gave each one to me, but I know some of them were from my mom and dad. My favorite – and I panicked because I couldn’t find it, it ended up being in a different box – is this one:

It’s very, very heavy and the design is etched in the base. It was given to me by a family friend when I was a teenager who knew I was interested in them. That paperweight started my collection. It’s a modest collection, of course, but it means a lot to me and I’ve thought a lot about it over the years.

When we were in Chicago a few years back (during the Margaritaville  tour) I saw some beautiful glass paperweights in The Art Institute of Chicago gift shop. I felt that little prick of  “I want one of these” after so many years of them being off my radar, but I didn’t buy one. Then a couple years ago in Paris, I bought one from one of the museums.

I’d like some more, but only if they really capture me. For now, this little grouping is lovely. I’ll probably add the one I got in Paris.

They’re mesmerizing.

Come to think of it, this might be classified as my very first collection, other than the books and records I always purchased with my babysitting money. I was definitely around 14 or 15 when I started collecting them. I remember buying a book about paperweights. Same MO as now. I always buy a book – if there’s one available – to learn more about what I’m collecting.

There’s little available display space here, so I think they’re going to live right where you see them, on the tiger oak sideboard in the living room.

It went down to 18 degrees last night. Yikes. It will get warmer today and tonight, but we really felt the cold this morning. Too soon!

Stay safe.

Happy Thursday.

Also found in the shed, this piece of pottery. It’s handmade and I have no idea where we got it. An art fair? I used to frequent a yearly fair in Balboa Park in San Diego. Was it a gift? It reminds me of something I would have purchased in my twenties when I was into earth tones. But, though this photo doesn’t show it at its best, it’s got a lovely glaze. Don likes it. Right now, it’s providing some height on the kitchen table.

It’s very cold here today so we are limiting our time outside working in the shed. It will be warmer tomorrow. It’s also windy. (What else is new?)

I was remembering the clothes chute in my childhood home yesterday. Did any of you have a clothes chute in your home? It was a feature of our little bungalow. A little door in the hall, which opened to a chute that went all the way down to the basement. We’d shove our clothes in, they’d fall down the chute and land in a laundry basket. The only place for a washer and dryer in our house was down in the basement.

We also had a milk chute. Same size as the clothes chute. It had an outside door that was easily accessed by our milkman. He would pull up in the driveway, open the door to the chute and place the milk bottles (glass, of course) inside. My mom, or one of us kids, would open the inside door, which was in the kitchen, and get the milk. When we were locked out, one of us kids would be lifted up by my dad, go head first through the chute, and then unlock the door.

Memories of another time when things were delivered to your door by people you knew by their first name. Our milkman happened to be our neighbor, who drove a truck for Twin Pines Dairy. We also had an eggman, a guy who had a farm where he raised chickens. He wore a leather jacket and a leather pouch on his belt, where he kept change. We’d yell out “The eggman is here!” and we’d let him in the house. He’d sit in my dad’s chair and count out how ever many dozens of eggs we wanted, placing them carefully in a bowl. Then he’d count out the change. He was a quiet man of few words and I can see him vividly to this day. I liked him.

We also had an occasional knife grinder and a guy who had a speaker in his truck who would drive slowly down the street saying (with an Italian accent) “Strawberries…nice, juicy strawberries!” We’d occasionally buy fresh fruit from him.

Very strong childhood memories. I miss the seeming simplicity of that era. I’m not idealizing it, of course, because there was much that was troubling, but a neighborhood with small business sellers coming right to your door is something we don’t see any longer.

Ah, well.

Stay safe.

Happy Wednesday.