Sure, kittens and hugs ARE a few of my favorite things. But this post is about our possessions and what they say about who we are. In the March issue of O magazine, Nate Berkus talks about his design for living. He says he likes beautiful things in his home, but more than that "...I like things that remind me of where I've been. Who I've loved. Who I love. And where I want to go". As I look around my eclectic collection of objects I look at every day, I feel the meanings I've associated with each of them. They tell me stories about the past, a certain place and time that makes up the patchwork of my life.
This original oil painting is by Ruth Browning, matriarch of the most amazing, loving family I was blessed to marry into. She created this scene to remind me of the years early in our marriage when we lived in France. When she presented it to me at the Christmas gathering, I knew I was loved like another daughter. I miss you every day, Aunt Ruth.
The blue glass teapot with artisan's metalwork was brought from a market in Turkey by my daughter Becca. She was on a Semester at Sea voyage to nine countries, learning about the vast world.
The small heart shaped dish belonged to my mother-in-law, Virginia Browning. She intrepidly travelled alone to France and toured with our young family several times. The dish is from Quimper in Brittany. We collected many pieces of this faience and treasure it still. The small round box is by Villeroy and Boch. Gin was with us when we vacationed in Luxembourg and visited where the china is made. We filled the trunk. Jim expertly packed it with all our luggage - three adults and two children in a Citroen. How did he do that?
The marble-topped washstand is an heirloom from my grandmother Elizabeth Long. I see it in my mind's eye in her 1920's craftman house in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. My earliest memories are of her strong yet gentle example of a life well-lived.
An antique Hendryx birdcage that has been with me since my early 20's, brought from Deposit, New York, where my parents lived once. It is a pagoda style made in 1930, and is complete with the original glass feeder and water dish.
There is a sign over the window that says "The most important things in life aren't things". It seems so obvious that we shouldn't need a sign to remind us. My Best Book Club Ever had a discussion about what things are essential, what we would have to rescue from a blazing house. Most of us thought we could fit it all into a small box. As I look around my living spaces, I'm not so sure I could.
What about you? Tell me in comments - what are your favorite things and why?
