Old Stuff, New Stuff, More Old Stuff

Just a couple of miles from That Old House,
on a well-traveled local road, is this:

 A barn --

empty, its boards gray and weathered, in the manner of old barn wood.

The barn grew with its farm, form following function,

addition tacked onto addtion.

The whole thing, barn and setting, ragged and raw, looks right.

I think the vines and scrub trees are helping it stand up.

The barn is part of the landscape now; it looks at home.

Across the street, on this barn's old farm land, are these:

Some people call these McMansions.

Unless you live in one, in which case you call it home.

Time.  It sure can change the crop that's springs up on farmland.

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On Sunday, Howard and I bought a really sweet little kidney-shaped

ladies' desk, and managed to squeeze it into my tiny antiques booth:

It is in such perfect 1930s original shape, the mahogany with great patina,

and even the leather top is intact and gorgeous:

Anyway -- I thought I had already done a post
on the things my friend Emily and I chased around all over New Jersey 
to pick up a week ago, and bring to the booth.

But it turns out, I had not.
Doh.
So, here it is -- the stuff we got last Tuesday.

From an elderly gentleman moving into assisted living, a little carved corner cabinet:

It's just so danged cute and small -- dainty, really.  It would look wonderful painted creamy white.

Or pink.  Yes, pink -- for a little girl's room.  Can't you see dolls on it?

At one of my favorite thrift shops, a nicely scaled open cupboard.
Old antiqued green, red, gold paint.
Chipped from use, not from "hey, let's make this chippy" efforts.
At the thrift shop:

Here it is, held hostage in my mini-van.
I thought I could fit both this cupboard AND the washstand I'd bought into the van, together.
But . . . no.  Reminder: measure first.
Two trips.  It was a long Tuesday, last week.  Thank goodness Emily is a good sport!

 At the booth.

Next . . . an old lift-top washstand.
Here it is, at the thrift shop:

This is also sometimes called a "commode," but it is not what some people think of when they
hear the word "commode," which is my long and euphemistic way of saying, "This is not a potty."

At the booth:

I put a small, subtle sign on it, by way of explanation.
When the top is lifted, there's space inside for a bowl-and-pitcher.
The little drawer on the left would have held toiletries -- razor, soap, etc.
The door underneath hid a slop jar, for used wash water.

I love the pine in this wash stand.

These were the en suite bathrooms of their day.

And speaking of old things . . . 
here's a picture of my favorite antique, posing with the wash stand, lifting its top, at the booth on Sunday:

He is not for sale.
I had to hang a "for display only" sign on him.
The ladies were just linin' up.

Have a lovely Tuesday, my friends -- Cass

Link Parties!

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