Living With Antiques

March 30, 2012
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Kathy Miele

I walked into the kitchen and dropped my keys on the counter. “Well, that was depressing!” I said to Steven as I opened the fridge and reached for a bottle of water.

“What happened?”

“I wanted to find something unique for my sister Liz for her birthday, so I stopped by the antique center to see if anything caught my eye.”

“You couldn’t find anything?” Steven was standing at the stove, making himself an omelet for his lunch.

“Oh, I found a whole lot of things!” I shook my head in disgust. “Way too many things if you ask me!”

“I’m not following you,” Steven said as plated his omelet and went over to the table.

“Every time I turned a corner in that shop I saw something else I grew up with,” I complained. “They had the full punch bowl set my mom used whenever we had a party.” I took a sip of water. “It was pressed glass with a ruby red rim around the top of the bowl and around each of the cups.” I smiled as I remembered gently holding one of those cups when I was small filled with some strange punch made with ginger ale and sherbet. “It was so beautiful.”

“Whatever happened to that punch bowl set?” Steven asked.

“Who knows? No one serves punch anymore. I’m sure it got given away years ago.” I sat down at the table across from him. “But then in the next booth I saw my mom’s old cookie jar. It was this weird jar that had pictures of cookies all around the base with a big walnut for the handle on the lid.”

The Spirit of Shrewsbury

“We didn’t have a cookie jar when I was growing up,” Steven said.

“Well, it’s not like our cookie jar ever had cookies in it,” I reasoned. “I think mom kept the dog’s leash in it.” I could picture the exact spot on the countertop that the cookie jar sat while I was growing up. “That sure was one ugly cookie jar.”

“If you never liked it why do you care about seeing it now?” Steven asked as he got up to put his plate in the sink.

“You had to see how much money they wanted for that thing!” I complained. “Besides it’s a little unsettling to walk through an antique center and see so many things you grew up with!” I whined. “It makes me feel old!”

“We are old,” Steven said, but then he stopped himself and slowly turned to look at me.

I’m sure the look on my face said it all.

“That didn’t come out right,” Steven explained.

“Nothing a dinner out won’t fix.”


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