My parents' house is stuffed with three generations' worth of stuff. Possibly more. If I find the Magna Carta, I'll let you know.
Clearly, my mother held on to this for a couple of decades. That typeface is STRAIGHT out of 1975. (Like me.) Also? I don't know which marketing whiz thought 'Porkecue' was a clever take on the more traditional 'barbecue.' But, it made me giggle. This series of pork/barbecue recipes was nestled in a fusty old box of other recipes. Here's what's weird: my mother never made ANY of the things that were mapped out in the recipe clippings. Speaks of some hopes and dreams, I guess.
My favorite find from last weekend:
What you see there, my friends, is a vintage male enamel urinal. It was found among what I assume to be my Dad's parents' stuff. They were born in the 1900's, so, maybe this is circa 1950? Who knows. But, similar models go for about $20 on eBay.
I'm heading over there this weekend to put in a few hours of labor, like I do most weekends. Afterward, I'll attend my nephew's/godson's high school graduation party. Think he'll want one of these fine items as his graduation gift?
It's heartrending. But it's funny, too. I can't help it. Maybe it's the Irish in me? When things are all grim and gloom, I still look for the humor. There's always humor. Sometimes you have to dig for it like my mother went after crab meat, but it's THERE.
I'll probably post some other day about the heartrending. Like the fact that I found anniversary cards that nearly equaled the number of years my parents were married (47). Or that they kept our kindergarten report cards. And that my father really, really wanted to be a published writer, but never managed to make that happen. I'm guessing there are seven reasons for that...
But the funny! There are things I'm finding that I can't grok. To wit:
Yep, that's an 18" machete. Now, my parents didn't live in the Amazon. They lived in suburban Baltimore. There is much pavement, and approximately zero jungle. By the way? There were TWO of these. One in my parents' bedroom. I really, really can't figure that one out. (Also? The background is my Dad's workbench. Jesus H. Christ, that is just a sampling of what the basement looks like.)
There's also this treasure:
Clearly, my mother held on to this for a couple of decades. That typeface is STRAIGHT out of 1975. (Like me.) Also? I don't know which marketing whiz thought 'Porkecue' was a clever take on the more traditional 'barbecue.' But, it made me giggle. This series of pork/barbecue recipes was nestled in a fusty old box of other recipes. Here's what's weird: my mother never made ANY of the things that were mapped out in the recipe clippings. Speaks of some hopes and dreams, I guess.
My favorite find from last weekend:
What you see there, my friends, is a vintage male enamel urinal. It was found among what I assume to be my Dad's parents' stuff. They were born in the 1900's, so, maybe this is circa 1950? Who knows. But, similar models go for about $20 on eBay.
I'm heading over there this weekend to put in a few hours of labor, like I do most weekends. Afterward, I'll attend my nephew's/godson's high school graduation party. Think he'll want one of these fine items as his graduation gift?
