One of my favorite things to do on a chilly winter weekend is visit an antique store or, even better, an antique mall that houses rooms and rooms of old things. We drove to Ross, OH this afternoon and spent a couple of hours roaming through the Venice Antique Mall. It's an old building with several floors worth of antiques, collectibles and junk. We'd never been to this particular place before but we'll definitely visit again. It had quite of bit of Blue Ridge pottery scattered throughout the different rooms and booths - something I've begun to collect over the past couple of years - so I'll have to go back when I actually have some cash in hand so I can buy a couple of pieces. Here's some of the Blue Ridge that we saw today - don't know the names of the patterns but will be looking them up.
We saw all the predictable items - old kitchenware, tools, knick-knacks galore, jewelry, furniture, china and dishes of all sorts, books, toys and on and on. The things that I usually tune in to are books, stitchery pieces, pottery (McCoy, Blue Ridge, Fiesta) ... and anything else that catches my eye. Chris has his own style when we go to a place like this: he prefers to make a quick trip through all the rooms and booths looking for specific items, then he makes a second slower trip around, returning to the spots that were of interest to him. My style is just the opposite - I like to go very slowly so as not to miss a thing. I'll stand in one spot and survey everything in sight not wanting to overlook that one special treasure ... it drives Chris crazy.
As I wandered about the various rooms I noticed an elderly lady walking around very slowly, stooped over, peering into the display cases at all the old things. I couldn't help but wonder what her perspective was on these "antique" and "collectible" items - things she had most likely used, or seen, or owned.... at some point perhaps in the 1920's or 1930's ... it must have been quite a trip down Memory Lane for her. There was something sad - and odd - about seeing this woman examing the very things that were undoubtedly a part of her life when she was much younger. I know how old I feel sometimes when I see things that I had when I was little, like old metal roller skates or vinyl records or the old Nancy Drew books - things that are maybe 40 years old. But for her, the things that are 70 or 80 years old must take her way back into the past. I wish I could have known what she was thinking as she worked her way around the displays. I was tempted to photograph her but didn't.
Is this what life boils down to, in the end? Complete strangers examining our "stuff" in a flea market or antique mall? I always have to wonder about the really personal items that I see - old photographs, hand-embroidered linens, marriage certificates (I saw one today, could hardly read it, but could make out that it was certifying the marriage of 2 people who had evidently lived in an orphanage while they were growing up - it was validated by the Director of the orphanage). How do they make their way from someone's home onto a display in a store? Note to self: make sure the kids know they may never sell my personal belongings!! I'd rather they be thrown away than scruntinized by shoppers!
Well, it was a fun afternoon for me, though Chris didn't find much to look at except for the occasional container of old tools. I could have spent hundreds of dollars on other peoples old stuff but didn't - maybe next time!
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