Fiction: Seeing Fit to Shop for Antiques

One of my hobbies is "collecting" and that is often best done at antique malls. Based on my long history of antiquing and collecting, I can tell if an antique mall will be worth the time, merely by looking in the windows or through the front door.

After that cursory evaluation, entering the shop and the potential success of the visit is confirmed based on the overall smell of the antiques, the visible number of dealers, and whether there is a balance between treasures being locked up in glass-front cabinets or freely displayed on shelves.

I have a technique for perusing such malls. Usually, I go clockwise in a room by running the first aisle, looking only at the booths on the left, and then returning down the same aisle visiting those on the right. Then I move clockwise to the second aisle and so on.

It is easy if the aisles back up to each other but sometimes it gets complicated if the cross aisles have booths on the cross-aisle itself. I make those decisions as necessary. Another logistics problem is when another room branches off the main one in no particular order. One can get disoriented in finding one's way back to the main room of the mall without having to visit any one booth more than once as well as making sure to not miss anything.

I can tell from standing in the aisle whether it will be worthwhile entering the booth itself. I stand at the head of the booth and scan the contents. If things catch my eye, I enter and spend some time looking around. If the items in the booth are mostly those which do not interest me, I do not even enter and move to the next booth.

If all of the items are locked up in neatly arranged in glass-front cabinets, I usually avoid that booth. I hate not being able to touch the items, especially if I am interested in them. It is a pain to have to call an employee over, tell them what you want to see, they go back to the front to get the cabinet keys, they return to unlock the cabinet. The rule of thumb is that you tell them what you want to look at and they get it out of the cabinet. Shoppers are not allowed to reach into the cabinet for fear of clumsily starting an avalanche.

If the booth is so loaded that it looks like it will be easy to knock things over or fall over myself, I avoid it. If the booth is already occupied by another shopper, I hold back. If it is being spruced up by the owner, I keep going as I do not like confrontation or after a lovely exchange feeling obligated to make a purchase.

On one Antique Mall adventure, the one over by the river which consists of "over 40 dealers," I came across a box of glass eyes somewhere in the middle of the shop. As I picked up the box, I assumed that they were for animal taxidermy purposes but on closer examination, I realized that they were replacement eyes, glass eyes, for people who had lost an eye and after medical examination would be fitted with an eye that they could "pop" into their empty eye socket so they would look more socially acceptable to others (and maybe to themselves.)

This particular booth was on the left middle of the third aisle. As I was coming back down the aisle, visiting the right booths, I notice an older man in the glass eye booth holding the box of glass eyes that I had just looked at. He was studying the box intently. Then he held it close to his face, mumbling to himself as he looked.

He put the box back on the shelf and proceed to touch each eye. There were large ones and smaller ones; brown, blue, green, and various shades in between. It was almost like he was having a conversation or a love affair with the box of glass eyes.

I continued my journey up and down the aisles, left and right, a brief stop at a cross-aisle booth then back to the up, down, left, and right. I found a few items to purchase and headed to the checkout counter towards the front of the mall. I paid for my items. They wrapped them carefully and handed me a small shopping bag with my purchased contents.

As I turned to go, I realized that the man I had observed earlier was behind me ready to make his purchase. Sure enough, he had the box of glass eyes, lid firmly in place, under his arm. What I had failed to notice the first time is that in his right hand he clutched a white cane. I will leave the rest to your imagination as it has been in mine.

A Few Foo Dogs

The other day I was shopping at the Heritage Trail Antique Mall in Wilmette (a suburb of Illinois for those of you who do not know.) After doing a circuit of the first and second floor I continued up to the third.

I enjoy visiting antique shops and do so not only locally but when out of town as well. I have gotten pretty good at "scanning" a mall booth and deciding if it is even worth moving in from the aisle for a closer look.

Some people might say, "Jaded," but somehow I can tell if it is worth spending time with a particular vendor by the way they display their items, if most items are locked up (I prefer them to be available to touch,) or if the items are even of interest to me.

Often times I will do a round of "looking" and leave the shop empty-handed. Other times I will come away with one significant item and at yet other times with a handful of tiny items (I am known for my Curious Collection of Tiny Treasures, you know!)

In a previous blog, you saw the antique Christmas Tree miniature I recently purchased from the Heritage Trail Mall. On the same trip, when I arrived on the third floor, I was dumbstruck by a pair of items I saw. This does not happen too often. I think I even commented out loud as I admired the items and circled them; commenting, touching, and amazing!

The items were reasonably priced for their value and the dealer for that booth (also the owner of the mall and an acquaintance from my many visits) was willing to give me a steep discount. The price of the items was still not inexpensive, but they were even more reasonably priced with the discount.

Lisa, the vendor, offered to put the items on hold for me and even though I had some difficulty committing to the price I figured, "Why not!" That would give me a few days to think and decide.

I began the process of decision making. Did I NEED the items or did I WANT the items? Did I have room in the condo to properly DISPLAY the items? Did I want yet another THING to which I would become ATTACHED? Was purchasing the items a good use of my MONEY? Were they really WORTH the price, even with the discount? Would the dogs, who were so heavy, literally WEIGH me down?

I spoke with my niece Colleen, who often is my Mirror of Wisdom, and sent her a photograph. She instantly fell in love with them; using words like wonderful, unique, magical, amazing!

I went back to the antique shop, purchased them, and they are currently installed on the entrance table in the front hall of the condo. There is a possibility that they will move around before settling permanently.

But I'll tell you this, they won't be moving often and certainly not on their own!

As I was drifting off to sleep, I said my nightly "Good Night Gregory." I added, "Do you think my Foo Dog purchase was foolish?" His reply was, "Of course, but what difference does it make?" 

As I am writing this I realize the PUN: Foo Dog purchase foo lish? Maybe that is why Gregory chuckled.

Since the introduction of the lion symbolism from Indian culture especially through Buddhist symbolism, statues of guardian lions have traditionally stood in front of Chinese Imperial palaces, Imperial tombs, government offices, temples, and the homes of government officials and the wealthy, from the Han dynasty (206 BC – AD 220), and were believed to have powerful mythic protective benefits. They are also used in other artistic contexts, for example on door-knockers, and in pottery. Pairs of guardian lion statues are still common decorative and symbolic elements at the entrances to restaurants, hotels, supermarkets and other structures, with one sitting on each side of the entrance, in China and in other places around the world where the Chinese people have immigrated and settled, especially in local Chinatowns.

Photograh of Foo Dogs at the Antique Mall

Photographs of the Foo Dogs at home

as part of my "Leaving Shrine" in the front hall.

Nativity

I call this my "One Piece Jesus, Mary, & Joseph Nativity." All figures are crafted from one pour of plaster. Funny story is that many many years ago, I tired of this nativity and sold it to an antique store. The next year I saw it on a shelf in the store and bought it back, realizing that I missed it. I think the antique dealer made a bundle for storing it the year!

Musings on an old wooden fork

This post was inspired by and in response to a post by my friend Jan (I could not have said it better :•) Click here to see Jan's post: Musings on an old wooden spoon

The fork pictured here is at least 40  years old. Almost as old as my relationship with Gregory. I purchased it when I moved into my first apartment in Chicago. It is the utensil of choice when I am baking. 

The tines used to be straight, but because I am right-handed, the pressure from mixing cookie dough has gently curved the center tine toward a soft "crooked man with a crooked house" shape.

Just this Christmas season, as I was using it to mix dough for over 25 dozen cookies of six different types, I found myself admiring this forks heft, stains, history, and shifting grain.

This fork is, of course, a warm reminder of my life’s nurturing and baking — for friends, for family, for self. It is aging like I am and I am quite sure it will outlast me. 

One day it may find itself in an old cardboard box at a garage sale and when not purchased, which it certainly will not be, will be tossed into a garbage can where it will become part of a landfill somewhere.

If lucky, it will slowly decompose into the earth, still with so much function left to stir, blend, and agitate. I am sure that everyone can describe a spoon or fork of their own. 

Thanks Jan.