Sunday, August 30, 2009

A light unto my path...

Growing up, antiques were a natural part of our lives. As kids, we didn't really do much different because of having them in our home. What I have enjoyed is that everything has a story. There were the four chairs and settee that came from France with English tapestry covers. It first had a black horsehair surface when it got to America. It found it's way to the southern part of the country, where the owner was afraid the Yankees would get it, so it was hidden in their attic before it was inherited by someone and was moved to New York. Mom and Dad purchased it from a woman in LeMars, IA. I do remember they were our perch when we did something naughty and we were placed on them awaiting Dad to come into the house. (4 kids, 4 chairs) Sort of time out chairs before the expression ever came to be. (Mom was ahead of her time.)
I remember being so proud when my first grade class took a field trip to our farm to see the antiques. The bus pulling into our yard, Mom standing out on the sidewalk in a dress waving to us. It's a treasured vision I keep in my mind. I remember kids asking me how we could live with it all, it was natural to us, we didn't know anything different.
My sister and I have followed in Mom and Dad's love for antiques. Our homes are filled with treasures we've collected over the years.
Victorian hanging and table lamps are something the folks have hanging around the house. Some have been electrified, some not. Dad has restored many. He's polished much brass in his lifetime on his shopsmith out in the garage. I think jewelers rouge was something I've always known about as a polishing agent. Then there's the Brasso and rags we polished the brass on the old cars with.
I have collected some lamps myself. There's my collections of mini lamps which mostly started when I got a bunch at an auction. There have been gifts from Dad and more auction finds. I've searched for that illusive lamp shade too, finding the local Amish community stocks Aladdin lamp parts and shades, and like Dad, have a box of lamp parts and chimneys to fit that lamp that may find it's way to my house that is missing something.
Left: One of my finds a few years back was this hanging lamp, but my house doesn't have the 8 ft. ceilings I grew up with, it can't be hung here, so it found it's way to Mom and Dad's house.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. Psalms 119:105

1 comment:

Carol said...

Cool collections. Sounds just like us growing up. It just was how it was and you lived with it or lived without it. No problem. Have a wonderful long weekend!


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