Most of my life, like so many others, I've harbored a love for that which is OLDE. Old buildings, old ways, old worn things.. Things from another place and time have always fascinated. Holding an item of age is like holding a piece of history in your hands. Walking the halls and climbing the steps of centuries old structures can be akin to walking through another era. It is a connection to the past and links us to lives we can only imagine. And therefore- I imagine....
I found a little box of sewing trinkets.
Inside the box were lovely embroidery threads in pastel yellows and pinks and greens.
I imagine these beautiful threads being used to sew a Sampler, in a day when tiny stitches and sewing skills were an important part of growing into a well rounded young lady. Little girls learned their ABC's as well, when stitching their alphabet samplers.
And here are a dozen shoe buttons. High button shoes were all the rage in the 1870's.
Imagine taking at least 10 minutes to hook up your shoes with a button hook, And if you lost a button, well of course it would be nice to have a replacement.
This wooden spool was wound with delicate blue ribbon.
Ribbon was a valued commodity once upon a time. Perhaps the ribbon was used to enhance a hat, or adorn the long braids of a lucky little girl.... with enough left over to add some beauty to a dolly dress.
Little dolly heads could be purchased just like this, from a catalog.
Then, mother or child would sew the body and stuff it with whatever was available. Horsehair, excelsior,or old rags.
I refuse to clothe these little raggedy dolls, because the charm is in the construction. Sometimes the body parts are way off kilter and out of proportion. Look at the little bosom sewn on this doll and the number of times she has been repaired. These dolls must have been dearly loved by a little girl in a century when toys were scarce and much treasured.
.The olde door....
I bought this door from a local antiques dealer who brings a crate of goodies from Normandy, France twice a year. I could say I am attached to it because I have a tie to Normandy through a famous ancestor who invaded England in 1066... and I really do. But that is not what I love about this door. I imagine this door on an old stone farmhouse.. The inside of the door is painted green and yellow. I think about the farm wife, in her kitchen, morning sunlight pouring through the window as she kneads her bread. The sunlight hits the greens and yellows of the door, and mimics the colors of the corn growing right outside the door and down 3 slate steps. Back then, these colors may have been bright and cheerful. Perhaps she had checkered green curtains hung from twine across her window and Sunflowers reaching great heights on the other side of the window pane.
.Now, the colors are muted and mellow. Look at the wonderful latch!
The outside of same door is a pale blue, the color of the sky. When it was freshly painted, it may have been the color of the periwinkle crawling across her yard and up those slate steps.
A small porcelain knob, a tap on the door and a warm welcome to fresh bread in the little farm kitchen.
How I love old things! Whether they are simple things or magnificent things... 100 years old or ancient. Old things take me on a journey.
Do you love them too? Please tell me why.
