Creeeeaaaaak. Crack crack crack. Whoomph! Creeeeeaaak, creak, creak. Whoomph!
I have this antique Windsor chair in my living room (creeeeaaaakkkk) and it's one of my prize possessions. I remember going to an estate sale in Maplewood, it was late in the day and there wasn't much left. Clearly the elderly couple was tired from the long day of people traipsing in and out of their house. (Crack.....crack) They practically gave it to me and I paid the nominal fee they asked feeling so clever and so satisfied with my purchase. I love my Windsor chair.
No one really sits in it because the spindles sometimes become undone on the back seat of the chair; its old whaddya want? That's why I have an antique crocheted throw over the back of it. But it is still so beautiful to me. In fact, most old things are beautiful to me (Whoomph!) Antiquing is my favorite past time. There are so many wonderful stories behind a milk glass perfume bottle with its fragile, opalescent edges, a manual eggbeater, an old milk can, cigar boxes, or a worn rocking chair.
Syrup carafes remind me of going to the International House of Pancakes with my parents when I was a little girl. Bread boxes, antique quilts, rolltop writing desks, Martha Washington side tables and wrought iron headboards all spark the same nostalgia of the things I had grown up with in our house (crack...crack, crack, crick crack) or my grandma's summer house in Sag Harbor.
Percolators for example (Whoomph!) remind me of mornings in Sag Harbor during the summer. The adults walked about yawning and waiting for their coffee while the kids hurriedly put on our bathing suits ready to hit the beach. (Creakkkk) --
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY! What in the hell is all that damn creaking and cracking and shit? I get up an lean into the living room--God give me strength! My mother in law is sitting in the goddam Windsor chair and has been try to get out of it for the past 10 minutes! She is too lazy to move the fricken TV tray in front of her which is why no matter how she rocks and creaks and cracks she will never get out of that fucking chair!
Who does that? My poor Windsor chair is moaning in pain at the abuse this woman is putting it through, rocking and squatting and falling back down into with with a Whoomph! Part of me knows its not really her fault. But the other part of me wants her to get her ass out of my frickety frackin antique Windsor chair!!!
My coffee table was made by my Grandmother out of bed board when she was first married and couldn't afford to buy one. It's plain and isn't pretty. Not only is it rickety, but it's uneven. One side of it needs to be on the rug while the other side needs to be on the wood floor in order for it to stand straight. My child is getting constant reminders not to put heavy items or even feet on this thing. It has paint 'n unknown kid damage stuff all over it and the A anarchy sign etched in the side from some smartass while I was in college. I wish I could afford a new one but the fact it when I go looking for another, I never like them. I can't help being in love with this thing. It's a piece of my Grandma.
ReplyDeleteI totally get that. And my mother in law is also a huge pain in the ass.
ReplyDeleteMother in laws are like that. I had my mother in law staying with us when she was nearing the end. I was her caregiver and she... well, she was a monster. It probably doesn't say much for me, but I finally had to get her out of the house. The irony is that under my care, this terminally ill woman actually got better! And all the while, playing twisted, maniacal, destructive, pointless mind games and forcing me to see how very much like her my husband was. It scared the shit out of me. Seems like I'm saying this to you a lot, but I wish I could make it better for you. I do know a bit about how that feels...
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