... while going through a life-time of accumulated belongings in my auntie's house. It's not that they have no value to me, but I don't have the sentiment attached and cannot appreciate the personal significance of articles like she could. Sad too that her memory is gone, and she cannot recall those connections, stories from the past that caused her to keep items that belonged to her parents or previous generations.
There are so many treasures, things that she has continued to hold on to over the years, that would have sentimental meaning, if only she could remember and share that history. Furniture that belonged to her parents, things that were hand made by her dad nearly a hundred years ago. Back in the era of self-sufficiency, when people would put the time and effort into creating storage units, or building cabinets on site, with the available materials and hand tools. All made using physical labor for each saw-cut, nail pounded and hole drilled, well before any time-and-energy-saving tool that had a cord!
Beautifully planned and assembled, very utilitarian with spare clean lines, made as a result of considerable thought when nothing was wasted: a cabinet for a huge radio, when that luxury item was finally bought, affordable after months of careful saving and setting aside pinched pennies to purchase. Bookshelves meticulously assembled at the request of a freshly minted teacher, beginning a long career of sharing her knowledge. Cabinets built for a industrious wife, needing storage space for her many jars of jellies and jams, home-grown vegetables and pickles tediously canned in a hot steamy kitchen.
Beautiful pieces of handwork, yards and yards of handmade lace, created inch by inch by gnarled arthritic hands. Neat, precise stitching on monogrammed bed sheets, still in good condition, preserved rather than used and laundered a hundred times. Colorful designs of crewel work perfectly finished, completed one stitch at a time, done on needlepoint canvas with wool threads, now covering seats on straight-back chairs and rockers that are nearly a century old.
And snowflakes! A blizzard of handmade snowflakes! Beautiful decorations on family Christmas trees spread from south Georgia to Virginia and the Rockies in Colorado when family members celebrate the season. Tiny hand wrought designs of crochet or tatting, that appear each year when seasonal decorations come out of attics. Angels for tree toppers, tiny baskets carefully wrought of the size to hold one wrapped peppermint candy, butterflies, candles, with wee yellow flames. Made with miles and miles of white crochet string and thread, untold hours of industrious fingers producing handmade works of art.
Snowflakes: there are a half dozen framed here, hung on a wall, so I see them every single day. Admire the time, effort, devotion that those talented fingers invested in such a mundane occupation. From that woman whose hands could not be idle, she always with a basket of handwork by her chair, darning or needlework to pick up. When she would sit, producing hundreds and hundreds of neat, tidy, starched snowflakes made of fine white thread.
The auction company has already begun to look at items, one by one, starting to put tags on pieces of furniture and write descriptions. all will go on line (professionalauctioneer.com) with photos of each, along with a brief description. To a new owner, that anonymous person who most desires to own it. Making you feel low yet? Yeah, I know. Like looking a photos of sad-eyed rescued pets online: we can't save 'em all.....
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