October 2019 – The Committed Collector

I’m so excited. I feel like one of the Sanderson Sisters, you know, from the Hocus Pocus film, run amok—amok, amok, amok.

You see, I’m hosting my not-quite annual Witches Party this evening.

Well, it’s not going to be a full meeting of the Sisterhood of the Black Pointy Hat, but it is going to include close friends, good food, and board games as well as a birthday celebration.

Among the guests is one of my friends who came to my very first Witches Party nearly 15 years ago. She and my other friends know how my husband and I go all out during the spooky season—and every season, for that matter—so I certainly don’t want to let them down.

Indeed, I might not be hosting a Monster Mash, but it will be a birthday bash fit for a witch, sorceress, or goddess—all set amid our collection of Halloween trappings.

For collectors like we are, what could be better than sharing our favorite collections with our beloved family and dear friends?

It should be pretty obvious that I’ve been looking forward to hosting my friends from the moment I sent out my invitation a few weeks ago, and I think my husband has too, even though he’s planning to head to a sports bar and watch some game.

Since my invitation went out, both my husband and I have been pretty busy getting ready for this gathering of the coven, so to speak.

We’ve been clearing and cleaning, dusting and decorating—all on top of working two full-time jobs and trying to open The Collectors museum—which is some of the good news I have to share with my friends tonight.

As collectors of holiday decorations, we naturally have plenty to trick out our abode for the Orange and Black Season, and I enjoy displaying and using our collectibles as much as acquiring them, so getting ready for guests is a true labor of love.

There’s a lot that goes into maintaining and using a collection. Likewise, there’s a great deal that goes into celebrating the holidays and important milestones, but all are well worth the effort.

To make room for this season’s accessories, I had to dust and put away dozens of our other collectibles, which took me on a pleasant journey down memory lane.

The things themselves are nice, but remembering when and where I bought them—and especially recalling people who were with me at the time—is an important part of the joy of collecting.

During the past few weeks, I cleaned the house—I mean I cleaned for company—I really cleaned. (Have you noticed how hard it is to make others feel at ease? How much goes into making it so others can make themselves at home in your home?)

Getting into the spirit of things, my husband offered to get an early start on raking leaves, so we wouldn’t have too much Halloween atmosphere outside, as he put it.

My husband also made the time to go to our mini-storage unit, so we could bedeck our front landing with his collection of blow-mold Halloween figures earlier than usual. He then helped me lug in eight cartons and tubs of decorations.

I washed and ironed four new autumnal tablecloths that I bought on clearance during last year’s Red and Green Season, which all of us committed collectors know is an economical way to pick up new pieces for our collections.

As for special touches and thoughtful gestures, my guy earned a vote for Husband of the Year since he thought to schedule our dog for a bath and grooming before the party, so my “familiar” wouldn’t look too shaggy tonight or smell too much like, well, the dog he is.

When hosting a party, something always goes wrong, but my guy came to the rescue again late yesterday afternoon.

I was horrified when I realized I was out of replacement bags for the vacuum. The choices I faced were grim: No final vacuuming up of the dog’s fur or a canine-scented house after running the vacuum with a full bag.

My good guy, when he could have been resting at the end of a long week, offered to race across town during rush hour to get to the only store that sells the style bags we need—before they closed.

He also offered to pick up a hot meal, so I’d have more time to set the table for this evening’s birthday dinner.

I had already hauled out my casual orange and black ceramic dishes for display on my kitchen shelves—and for our everyday use. (It just isn’t October in our house until we’re eating our cereal out of black bowls.) My set of sophisticated black Octime dishes and glassware to use in the dining room were next on my to-do list.

As a careful custodian of my collections, I hand-washed and dried all the dishes and glasses.

I was finally able to set the table with my black dishes, orange linen napkins, and a glowing glass pumpkin patch down the center. (As elegant as my mass-produced pumpkins are, I readily admit they don’t have the same quality as the handmade ones sold at the Corning Museum of Glass or at our own RIT’s Glass Pumpkin sale.)

The table does look nice, even if I do say so myself, and so does the whole house. Ceramic pumpkin teapots, cookie jars, and candy bowls fill the kitchen. Black lace spider webs hang from the chandelier along with orange beaded garland and orange mercury glass ornaments.

Autumn leaves, of the silk variety, fill blue and white ginger jars. A vintage-looking Happy Halloween banner and two shades of orange tinsel garland preside over the living room, and every table has pumpkins, real or otherwise, sitting atop them.

My collection of humorous Halloween signs hangs everywhere. They encourage guests to “come in for a spell” and then “eat, drink, and be scary.” The whole house is aglow with fall colors; I’m ready to cue up “Love Potion No. 9,” and the only ghosts are outside.

Undeniably, showing off our collections is a matter of pride for most of us collectors. However, it is also an attempt to share with others and to give them an opportunity to learn something new or to enjoy something out of the ordinary, and my husband and I certainly hope decorating for the holidays does some of that for our guests.

Once the table was set, my husband helped me again: this time in rearranging the living room furniture a bit to make room around our parlor table, so the women and I can set up for Game Night. As aficionados of family-friendly board games, at least one of my guests will bring a game or two—or so I hope.

Although I have several choices, as you might expect, I’m less into playing contemporary board games than I am into collecting antique game boards. That means my selection of games is paltry compared to theirs. (What’s worse, for me, is that, even though I love the artwork of old game boards, we unfortunately don’t have any wall space for me to start that collection.)

Getting back to party prep, I tinkered with the rest of the decorations around the house last evening and made sure they were strategically placed and left plenty of space in the living room for my friends and on tabletops for their dishes and mugs.

This past week, I bought things for those dishes and mugs and glasses, too.

My friends are bringing homemade lasagna, fresh salad, and crusty bread tonight, and I thought we might want to nibble on a starter, so I bought the fixings for an antipasto platter—to be served on my Octime platter, of course.

(Of course, I also have ready a black baking dish, a black bread plate, and a black salad bowl with skeleton hand salad tongs, if needed.)

When I bought a jug of apple cider for the mugs and a bottle or two of red wine for the goblets, I was reminded of the reasons why bottles, labels, and crates are all popular collectibles. Many not only have artistic graphics; many also have the potential to remind us of good times with family and friends.

While grocery shopping, I also picked up three different kinds of chocolate, to be displayed in Depression Glass-era black glassware, and then divided up and sent home in cute little Halloween loot bags because it just isn’t Halloween without candy, no matter how old you are.

Speaking of birthdays, the Birthday Girl, as my mother would have called her on her special day, requested a seasonal favorite, an apple pie. Since dessert is my contribution to the dinner, my husband, once again, came through and suggested getting a pie from Leo’s Bakery in East Rochester.

Although that’s another drive for my guy, Leo’s is the place for collectors of culinary experiences. I’m pretty sure I could try a different dessert there each week and keep coming back for more.

In the meantime, it’s going to be a busy day for me—and a good one.

I still need to get out some candlesticks and vases, in black glass of course, and arrange some flowers, which I made a point of picking up because it’s a special occasion, yet lighting candles and arranging bouquets won’t take too much more time.

I’ve got just about everything else ready for my guests, so I actually have time this morning to go to the Antiquarian Book Fair and look for something I just can’t live without. I’ve been several times in the past, and I always look forward to the books, postcards, and other paper collectibles. Maybe today, I’ll find a vintage Halloween postcard or two that suit my style and that I can actually afford.

This afternoon is the local meting the Jane Austen society, when avid Janeites will tell of their experience at the recent annual convention. These women are admirable not simply for their collections of books or things related to Jane Austen, but also for their appreciation of learning and gathering knowledge—as our my friends.

Among the many things I appreciate are my treasured collections, my good-sport of a husband, and my close friends. I hope those friends who are coming to my party this evening enjoy themselves and appreciate my efforts.

Happy Halloween, Everyone.

Patti
The Committed Collector

Are you, too, a fan of Halloween trappings and the assorted things that make the holiday spooky, scary, or fun? If so, please leave a comment and describe the kind of trick-or-treat collectibles that fill your home.

I meant to write another post last weekend, but I was busy running from one local event to another–and I’ve been busy ever since thinking about things and what we do with them.

I began last Saturday by going to the Fall Harvest fest at the historic Streeter’s Inn. Hosted by The Chili Historical Society, it was a friendly, small-town event. The kids there enjoyed a variety of games; the adults took in the historic site and wood carving demonstration, and the bargain hunters scoured the antiques, baked goods, and produce.

The Inn’s furnishings and most of the merchandise were, indeed, antiques, and many of the them represented the way life was lived 100 years ago. Now, most of those things are going into collections–if not at the historic site, in someone’s private stash, hopefully displayed at home (rather than stored away). Some collectors, of course, actually use the items they collect, but many of us are in the display business, figuratively or literally.

I managed to leave the fall fest with only one new purchase: an adorable dog planter that won’t become a home to a houseplant, but will be housed in my home among a few other canine collectibles.

I showed much less restraint later that afternoon at the Fantastic Findings Sale. I had to make three trips to the car to make sure that nothing that was bagged up ended up broken up, too, as I continued to shop. (Oh, it was a weekend for antiquing in Western New York!)

The annual sale at The Rochester Museum & Science Center is always jam-packed with a great variety of items that are either useful or decorative, antique or contemporary, which gave me four reasons to do more than window shop.

With so much to see, I naturally made two or three trips around each sales room. There were beautiful decorative accessories, like china and crystal, as well as furniture from the past five decades, at least. There were real antiques there, too, that reflected the styles and interests of past generations.

Needless to say, as The Committed Collector, I was delighted that so many interesting treasures were up for grabs, but I was a little saddened, too, because the only reason those things were available was because whoever owned them no longer wanted them.

I realize that makes sense when things break or wear out, but things like that don’t end up in sales like this one.

Likewise, I recognize that in a consumer culture like ours it’s often tempting to say, “Out with the old, and in with the new”–the new color or style or variation that’s being marketed this decade–or even this season.

With such a variety always available and a national penchant for disposable goods, I also understand why downsizing is a trend these days, which, no doubt, helps send donations to sales like this.

Nonetheless, sometimes you can just tell that people don’t want what they have anymore–like the penguin collection at this sale. I admit I’m assuming the two dozen black and white figurines and gadgets at the sale came from a collection. Although it’s possible that 10 or 20 different people donated penguins, I’d bet most came from the same donor.

Maybe the collector was streamlining his or her collection; maybe the collector was forced to downsize, or maybe his or her children simply don’t want Mom or Dad’s knick-knacks.

While all of these situations are understandable, I always feel saddened when I see a collection being dismantled, broken up, and dispersed.

That simply can’t happen with a novel or a movie. (Yes, I know manuscripts and films have been lost, in part and in total). Once they’be been created and published or produced, however, they will always exist as a whole.

Collections, however, are more like buildings. Collections, like buildings, are built from innumerable pieces, but only the very best one constructions are likely to be preserved intact.

Sometimes, building get old, sold off, stripped bare, and knocked down. Some of the parts might be salvaged and installed elsewhere or reused somehow, but the original building is gone forever, which is often a great cultural loss.

More often, that happens with the collections that people build. The collections remain whole only as long at the collectors have any say over their things, and that breaks my heart.

As much as I hate it, however, I’ve come to accept that I can’t save every collection that I come across. There certainly isn’t enough room at home, and I’ll never have enough money to pay for that much mini-storage (which would defeat the purpose of collecting, anyway).

And even if I get The Collectors museum up and running, that, too, will run out of space–sooner rather than later if all the local collectors I know put their things on display.

I suppose that’s the way of things, like the cycle of life, as this lovely autumn day reminds me.

Things are bought; a collection grows. A collection is built, but it must eventually be dismantled, piece by piece, so new collections can be built by the next generation of collectors.

In the meantime, enjoy the things that you already have.

Patti
The Committed Collector

Are you still collecting, trying to streamline, or ready to downsize? Please leave a comment and let us know where your collection stands.

The Committed Collector

Month: October 2019

Celebrating Halloween, Hosting Friends

For the Love of Things