Monday, June 22, 2009

perfectly imperfect

georgianna . a tiny pair of shoes . transfer ware & pewter .
old ironstone . walnut table . old lamb & humble
while I polished and scrubbed my little old farmhouse, I realized that nearly everything here, each little cupboard and table, the bookcase filled with dog-eared books, the candle sticks and the old crackled ironstone plates and cups that we have used for many years
are all a little worse for wear.
Edges that were once fine and new, now worn smooth and some nearly gone.
All of these things are dearly loved.
They are "perfectly imperfect" and that just makes them more dear to me.
I am comfortable in my crooked little old farmhouse,which I'm quite sure was built without a square or a plumb bob. She is filled with worn and tatter'd, beautiful and perfectly faded.
pewter & old paper

The old wood floors have a definite tilt to them and so does my favorite "tippy tea table"....and if you turn the table just right, the beautiful old pewter teapot, properly dented,of course, with a visible half moon hollow in her side, rests comfortably on top.


Like the old gilt mirrors, their silver now clouded & tarnished, the kitchen cupboard with the make-do knobs filled with chipped transfer ware and ironstone, I fit in here.

old doll

We're like old friends all together. all of us have a story of survival made even more beautiful with our imperfections and beautiful fading colors showing.


My favorite ironstone cup has an elegant curved handle, cracked and carefully glued and put back together again.

Our walnut dining table from the early 1800's has a small patch of veneer missing along the top edge of a beautifully curving leg. It also survived a fire. There on the very center of the only leaf it came with is the distinct outline of a large book. It was left by the family Bible that also survived the fire. The table and chairs weren't burned, but they do have some wonderful crazing in the old varnish...and we had to buy them because they are all exactly like the table and chairs that my great grandparents had in their farmhouse kitchen when I was small.

When we learned that the old table & chairs, along with the old family Bible,

had survived a terrible fire,

I knew that it should live with me in my little old house now.

There's the old oriental rug with it's lovely colors faded and worn.

The silver and pewter, dented and mellowed with years of loving use.

An old chalk lamb leans gingerly on 3 legs against an old iron urn on the mantle.

Everything here has a story.


and in the evenings, with the glow of candles being the only light, everything has a wonderful softness of the many years of being loved,

tenderly repaired and kept for many more years of use.

just like me, my things are a little worn around the edges.

Made graceful and more beautiful by candle light...

we all fit in here.

perfectly imperfect.