I picked up a friend and we headed down winding roads to a red barn in the middle of nowhere. This structure was not filled with hay and straw, animals, pigeons or machinery. It was brimming with antiques … wood bowls, crocks of every shade, wool samplers, quilts, Colonial-style chairs, old rockers, sandstone water troughs and rustic miscellany.
Aaahhh. Heaven.
My enthusiasm was contained by the funds in my wallet, but I did come home with a few treasures like this delightful egg basket. A look-alike for the one owned by Ma Ingalls. My girls were thrilled. I loved this unique crock with a cork in the bottom and the small round one will clean up with a good scrubbing.
The $10 quilt is not a collector’s piece. I doubt it’s 50 years old. I don’t care. It is free of rips and tears. It has bright and cheery colors with a soft, washed-many-times feel. Someone used it … enjoyed sweet dreams under it. I can’t wait to curl up in it with a good book—or my blog—or my Pride & Prejudice DVD. Hello, Mr. Darcy, you tall, dark and complex man. I digress.
The other day, an acquaintance said to me: “I know you think antiques are fabulous, but I just don’t like old, cruddy stuff.”
Obviously she has never wrapped up in a time-worn quilt, molded her hands around a graniteware mug of hot cocoa and savored a sweet slice of banana nut bread on one of these …
Had she experienced such bliss, she could never have made that statement.
You don’t have to rid your home of modern creature comforts. You don’t have to like the “old, cruddy look”—but I encourage everyone to take a moment to enjoy something from yesteryear.
After you’re done daydreaming, fold up that quilt and stash it in the back of the closet if you like. I’m guessing you won’t, though. Soft, old quilts tend to become best friends. They absorb tears. They wrap you in fuzzy hugs. They’re sturdy.
Best of all … they age with you but never lose their warmth.
