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| Detail from: Between Heaven and Hell,1989, Jacek Yerka |
Coffee grinders, rusty scales,
early pewter, crocks, and tins--
never knowing where they’ve come from,
never knowing where they’ve been.
One man’s trash, another’s treasure…
butter churns and samplers sewn;
I collect these wondrous pieces,
and cherish each as though my own.
Passing down through generations
simple treasures from the past,
created by a craftsman’s hands--
built for use and built to last.
I am just the current keeper,
one of many in the chain,
the history of each runs deeper;
when I’m gone they will remain.
© Ginny Brannan 2013
Written for The Mag #162. Image provided by Tess Kincaid.
She provides the image, and we the story!!
And yes, I love country primitives, and really do collect such things...
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| My kitchen counter |
What lovely, verse - was it written in your also lovely kitchen? I like the idea of old things as well, other times and lives they have touched... and will touch after mine too.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mary! My collecting started many years ago with some small pewter pieces.Then husband got me an antique wooden trunk (actually an old carpenter's wood tool chest) to use as a coffee table. Over years collection evolved to include a wooden butter churn, some old scales, an old coffee grinder, and most recently a c.1800 yarn weasel (looks sort of like a spinning wheel, but used to wind the yarn once it was made). No really big pieces several small ones make me feel like I've stepped back in time. Fits my New England life style!!
Deletesmiles. i am all about simple treasures...esp those that are passed down generation to generation...we have a few around...and others will never really understand their value...
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful reflection on these storage jars and tins. They hold so much history. It reminds me of the Antique Rodeo Show. You never know what something is worth.
ReplyDeleteI have many treasures that belonged to my mother and to my grandmother ... proudly displayed, cherished forever, happy to pass along the the next generation. Loved your poem, Ginny.
ReplyDeleteThis was like a breath of fresh air after some of the tortured magpies this week. I like how you concentrate on the kitchen objects. Your fondness for them shone through.
ReplyDeleteah, the keeper of this kitchen, and then each keeper adds more, but no one subtracts
ReplyDeletewhere is the food when mother is not?
Yours looks like a cozy kitchen!
ReplyDeleteOne of many in the chain...oh me too...
ReplyDelete... I think you should photograph each one and write a poem. (and then publish it) This poem is so tender, so caring.
ReplyDelete