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I, Sharon, do not write holiday letters. Ennui, a busy life, a feeling that if I have to say something personal once a year to someone, perhaps the lesson is to keep in better touch throughout the year … reasons like that usually stop me in my snowshoe tracks, but this year … I couldn’t stop Jane Wheel from crafting a letter. She just had some things to say.
Hey everyone, Tough year, huh? I’ve had some marital setbacks — perhaps a bit of an understatement (Scary Stuff readers, you know what I’m talking about) and I have some new family members to add to the holiday card list (Scary Stuff readers, once again, you know what I’m talking about). No matter — I usually never get the cards sent at all and this year — no exception. Several years ago I found a box of unused vintage cards from the 50’s — modern green and red graphics with “Happy Holidays” spelled out in skis and ski poles. So cool. But I put them in a box somewhere with other holiday collectibles and this year, since I didn’t feel like much decorating, I didn’t look too hard for the box, and so — no cards. I just couldn’t bring myself to buy new ones — not when I had a box of perfectly good vintage cards — if I could find them. My decorations this year? I settled for the easy finds — the ones I never put into deep storage. A Heisy glass punch bowl filled with vintage ornaments and stacks of old Chritmas gift boxes from my beloved Marshall Field and Company placed in random piles around the living room. They look festive — even if they are empty. Okay — lost Christmas cards and empty boxes — sounds mopey, right? Not at all. Looking at those boxes makes me happy and provides great memories. And memories — objects that inspire those memories? Those are my essential joy. This year, I’ve decided to make it an essential Christmas. No gag gifts, no obligatory shopping for shopping’s sake. And by essentials, I don’t mean socks and underwear either. I mean, I have a friend whom I never see and she loves movies. We are going to movies together in 2010. I am making the plans and picking her up. And I have a friend who loves cocoa more than anything and instead of allowing him to continue drinking the awful little packets which he thinks are convenient, I splurged on an easy to use hot cocoa maker that would be an indulgence for most, but for him, who treasures real cocoa every night to get through a Midwestern winter, it’s an essential joy-bringing element. And for Nick? Some fun gifts, sure, but most important? I’m organizing the family photos — for real — so they don’t become a burden to him someday when he has to find something in my “deep storage” system. I am weighing my purchases — worthy … joy-giving … essential. It’s because I’m broke like everyone else, sure — but it’s also because this year, everything seems more weighted and heavy — and at the same time, more fragile than ever. Peace, love, family, friends — all of those are what we say we want, but how hard are we willing to work for them? I sense a fatigue in so many that I myself want to fight against. Tim Lowry always tells me I think more than I do — and this year, I’m going to try to do more — in my community and I hope, in the world. If we all just tried to act on our wishes for peace, for joy to the world — even if we just tried one day out of the year, things would be better. We would be better. So that’s my goal. And although I am late in saying it, Happy Holidays! And Nellie wants me to tell you that having a good time is all well and good, but don’t go overboard and make fools of yourselves on New Year’s Eve. Don usually closes the E Z Way Inn fairly early on the Eve — Don calls it amateur night and doesn’t ike to bother with the party hats and noisemakers. Nellie particularly hates streamers and confetti. When, as a child, I innocently asked her why, she barked, “Who the hell you think cleans it all up on New Year’s Day?” Point taken, Mom. Happy Holidays, Nellie and Don and Tim and Bruce Oh and oh yeah, Claire, too, I guess. And to all of you. Thank you for reading along — and please — just picture my Happy Holidays message spelled out in skis and ski poles. There — that’s better. Best of Stuff,
A is for Apothecary Jars ... Like Eeyore, who received an mpty pot and a broken balloon as birthday gifts from his friends Pooh and Piglet, I am never more delighted than when I find an attractive vessel and something with which to fill it. Make your own donkey joke. For that matter, classicists, make your own empty vessel joke. However, my love for apothecary jars has ceased to be amusing. It borders on my next obsession. What began as — oh, wouldn’t those great big empty canning jars be perfect for my knitting needles has turned into — ooh, there’s another lidded jar! Leapfrog that small child and grab it out of his mother’s hands! Anyone who collects anything is always looking for clever storage. And some collectors actually do store things. Me, I collect stuff, then collect things to put the stuff in, but end up liking the storage as much as the original collection Let me break that down. A lovely apothecary jar is pleasing to look at in its own right. I love the jars empty as much as I love them filled. And for every practical-minded person reading this (what practical-minded person could possibly reading this?) who thinks an apothecary jar is perfect for storing cotton swabs on a bathroom counter or individually wrapped coffee-flavored candies on your buffet, think again! Apothecary jars are never more attractive than when holding hand-knit felted olives (yes, reader, I made them!), bakelite gaming chips, dice, and embroidery floss. And thanks to a marvelous house sale last month, I also found out that at least in apothecary jars, size matters! These impressive behemoths are perfect for displaying my wool — keeping it in plain sight so my stash is both visible and moth-free. (posted July 30, 2009)
So here’s the thing about a rummage sale … You walk into St. Nick’s church basement with twenty dollars in your pocket (singles and fives only) and you see a little red pyrex bowl or a few old glassbake colored jars … maybe a funny old cookbook or a little pocket saint (a tiny metal statue in a tiny metal case) … and you snatch up these little things — maybe with a package or two of rickrack and a package of sewing needles made in England, and you spend five dollars on all this stuff and you go home happy. But what if, for no really good reason, you have seventy-five dollars in your pocket? You know better than to carry that much cash around on a Saturday morning, but maybe you had a free-lance editing job and someone paid you in cash and you just left those twenties in your jeans pocket from the day before. It was an accident. Then you walk into St. Nicks, pick up your little happy-making stuff, and on your way to check out and pay, you see a rug — a really great-looking rug. Wool, dark, mysterious and in great condition. Maybe 5 x 8 or so? It’s priced at $75, but you ask, on a whim, if you can have it for $50, and when the nice man says yes, it would be rude not to buy it, right?
So you go home with a rug. Your good friend Adar looks at the rug and tells you it’s worth a lot more than you paid and even though the market is pretty flat right now for an old Afghani rug in excellent condition, you have made a terrific deal and could resell it for a handsome profit! What do you do? You smile at it every time you see it in a special spot next to the fireplace, that’s what you do. And you say a little thank you to the pocket money saints of rummage, that’s what you do.
(posted July 22, 2009)
I’ve always avoided the jewelry cases at an estate sale. I say it because Jane Wheel and I don’t collect jewelry – but the truth is I love jewelry, always have. So why do I steer clear? What if I browse and what if I fall in love with something? A $100 price tag and my avocation becomes one more unaffordable luxury. Even a $25 purchase means that I’m finished for the day. Yes, I go over that $25 budget when I fall in love with a piece of furniture or stumble across a fabulous lamp – but that’s household stuff and for the edification of the entire family. Jewelry? That just seems self-indulgent, narcissistic, vain. Right? Right??? So let me tell you about the bracelet I found this weekend. Mexican silver with black, probably Bakelite,cabochons. It was sitting in a box of costume jewelry on a dining room table, late morning, at a very picked-over sale. I carried it, along with a Marshall Field’s box over to the aproned owner and asked how much. $1 for the bracelet – quite tarnished and dirty and the box – in perfect condition. (My first job after college? Writing advertising copy for Marshall Field’s and now that the magnificent store is gone for good, I never pass up a box or bag that proclaims its name)
Oh and the book I’m reading? A battered copy of McElligot’s Pool that I picked up for fifty cents at the same sale as my lovely bracelet. It’s not a first edition – if it were, the fish on the cover would have his mouth open. I just happen to love the storyline? A boy believes he just might catch something wonderful in McElligot’s Pool despite the farmer who says: “The pool is too small, You might catch a boot Or a bracelet and Marshall Field’s box and a book that’s for reading – (posted July 15, 2009)
Attention stuff lovers everywhere! Here's a quiz to see how you rank as a collector -- You're at a house sale, going through a box of tins that someone saved -- you know, Band-Aid boxes, Sucrets tins, Bayer aspirin, etc. Do you buy the largest band aid tins to hold your small collectibles like tiny buttons or do you buy the Sucrets tins to use for crafty notions or do you buy the aspirin tins because they are tiny and cute and you could put stamps in them?
-- If you buy the large band aid box, you're a practical collector. -- If you buy the Sucrets tins, you're a creative collector. -- If you buy the Bayer aspirin tins, you're a nostalgic, romantic collector. -- If you buy the Curad Bandaid box to hold the Sucrets tin in which you've already placed the Bayer tins, you're Jane Wheel.
Gosh, I had fun at a sale this weekend. Scary Stuff will be in stores September 29! In preparation for that happy event, I have begun to sing like a bird -- well, maybe not, but I am trying my hand at twittering. Please click here to become my follower (or follow my tweets on this site by clicking the icon at right) as I try to tweet my way through the summer garage sales, and the preparation for the book launch! I will also be posting here on the website with more frequency -- I mean after all -- if I can't confide here about my "finds" where can I go? And how about you mystery readers and stuff lovers? What are you finding out there? Sharon (posted July 5, 2009)
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