I need to tell you about my friend Mary Margaret. I met her when we were both selling in a nearby antique mall. She was a down to Earth girl, but the things in her booth were amazing. Quality primitives, old children's items, and tons of gorgeous old Christmas stuff.
One day, she introduced herself and a friendship began. We came in together on days when the shop was closed and worked on our booths. She began to bring in things for me to look at when the shop was closed and we did some great deals this way.
I began to realize that her home must be the Taj Mahal of primitives and the Palace of Mid Century Christmas. Someday, I thought...
But Mary Margaret was clearly independent and also a bit, um, scatterbrained? There was the time when she promised to bring a bag of antique baby clothes by my house for me to see and purchase. I waited patiently, but she never came. Several hours later, she called and asked if I liked them. I haven't seen the bag, I replied. Turns out, she had left them on the wrong porch. My husband and I canvassed the neighborhood; I was so afraid that someone would throw them in the garbage. Finally Mary Margaret remember more details about the house where she had left them, and I finally found them after a stressful 24 hours.
We continued to do deals out of grocery bags in the parking lot. A child's wicker rocker, little girl's dresses, even a fabulous old papier mache jack o lantern.
But she always managed to find a reason why I couldn't come to her house and shop.
So I was pretty thrilled when she called last week and had changed her mind. I considered driving over right then, but thought that might appear a trifle pushy.
Yesterday, I spent a happy hour in her home and it was worth the wait. Her home was beautiful and as filled with treasures as I had hoped. She enjoyed telling me stories of where she had acquired many of her things, and shared family stories about others. With her dog Angie hanging on every word, she told me about driving home from North Carolina with a magnificent primitive corner cupboard on the top of her Datsun 240 Z, and showed me the tin belonging to her grandfather which had held her treasures as a girl, including her prized swimming medals.
I actually learned a great deal from her, and thoroughly enjoyed the time. And what do I have to show for it? Booty extraordinaire! Gurley Christmas candles, putz houses, an old Santa from Japan, Shiny Brites, Victorian postcards. Some are for me, some are gifts, and some will show up in my Etsy shops.
But more importantly, we have forged a friendship born of a love for old things which will continue to thrive.
The way to a friend's house is never long...
https://www.etsy.com/listing/256953325/vintage-rubber-face-santa-japan-12-fur?ref=shop_home_active_2
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