“Excessively prone to feelings of tenderness, sadness, or nostalgia.” Describes me to a tee. Although the “sadness” part of the definition really doesn’t fit. Yes, I tend to have an emotional side, but sad is not a defining word in my character. I am generally a joyful soul. But I think anyone who truly knows me would say I am a wee bit over the top when it comes to the tenderness and nostalgia part of the definition of a sentimental person. To me, being sentimental and nostalgic go hand in hand.
Someone once said “Nostalgia is the whiff of a past that can only be recalled, never returned to; so bittersweet.” It reminds me of days gone by and the events and people in my life who made me the person I am today. It somehow connects my past to the present and future.
That being said . . . If you have read the About Us page on this website you already know that our little venture is built on family and how the little things matter a great deal. The other day, a huge piece of nostalgia made its way to our display table. The purpose of this blog post is to tell you about it. . .
Quite recently, we were figuring out our display for a local craft fair, which would be the biggest one we have ever participated in. Since we were limited to one 6-foot table and wanted to make the most of our display, we agreed we needed another shelf to show more of our soaps without crowding them. (Side note – we already have one picket-fence type shelf on our display. It was in Sarah’s room when she was a little girl and displayed her favorite things. There’s that nostalgia again!). We decided we would round up some lumber, distress it so that it had that rustic/vintage look like the rest of our display, and David would design and build the shelf.
Someone once said “Nostalgia is the whiff of a past that can only be recalled, never returned to; so bittersweet.” It reminds me of days gone by and the events and people in my life who made me the person I am today. It somehow connects my past to the present and future.
That being said . . . If you have read the About Us page on this website you already know that our little venture is built on family and how the little things matter a great deal. The other day, a huge piece of nostalgia made its way to our display table. The purpose of this blog post is to tell you about it. . .
Quite recently, we were figuring out our display for a local craft fair, which would be the biggest one we have ever participated in. Since we were limited to one 6-foot table and wanted to make the most of our display, we agreed we needed another shelf to show more of our soaps without crowding them. (Side note – we already have one picket-fence type shelf on our display. It was in Sarah’s room when she was a little girl and displayed her favorite things. There’s that nostalgia again!). We decided we would round up some lumber, distress it so that it had that rustic/vintage look like the rest of our display, and David would design and build the shelf.
The board as it looked right off the shelf. My mom and I were visiting about this after the last farmers’ market of the season and she agreed it was a good idea. Our conversation travelled from one thing to another as it usually does, then completely off-topic and out of the blue she said “You know, the boards from the old fence are downstairs on the shelf. Maybe they would work for your shelf. “ Wow. Angels sang.
We had forgotten that Dad had saved the boards from the fence that once edged the front of our property! What made her think of those old boards that had long sense been forgotten? They were meticulously stacked on the lumber shelf; saved for some unknown future use. My dad had a true knack for reusing things and creating something quite useful and unique from them. The fence boards were no different.
I hurried myself down the stairs and pulled down one of the boards. It was exactly what I had pictured in my mind for the shelf! The years of harsh Kansas winters and scorching summer sun and heat echoed in the worn paint. I just sat there for a moment, mesmerized by the memories that spilled in to my mind and heart. It was like a slideshow running through my mind . . . sleigh riding and trying not to run in to the fence (especially when we dog piled on the sled so that we would go faster!). Giving directions to our friends and telling them ours was the white house with the white fence in the front. Mom’s rosebush that set adjacent to the fence (it once stopped my sister Shell from crashing in to the fence during her maiden voyage on her bike without training wheels. Thorns. Ouch!). And I can’t leave out watching Dad and my brother Mike tediously scrape and paint every board and post in the fence. They painted it quite often; I don’t ever remember it looking the least bit shabby. I wasn’t allowed to help. Although, I never asked. It was simply something that Mike and Dad tackled together; it was kind of an unspoken rule that this was their thing, much like mowing the yard. This is where I need to mention that Dad took the fence down shortly after Mike left for college and a career in the Marine Corps. Dad would jokingly say “I lost my painter”. To this day, Mike still chuckles about that!
We had forgotten that Dad had saved the boards from the fence that once edged the front of our property! What made her think of those old boards that had long sense been forgotten? They were meticulously stacked on the lumber shelf; saved for some unknown future use. My dad had a true knack for reusing things and creating something quite useful and unique from them. The fence boards were no different.
I hurried myself down the stairs and pulled down one of the boards. It was exactly what I had pictured in my mind for the shelf! The years of harsh Kansas winters and scorching summer sun and heat echoed in the worn paint. I just sat there for a moment, mesmerized by the memories that spilled in to my mind and heart. It was like a slideshow running through my mind . . . sleigh riding and trying not to run in to the fence (especially when we dog piled on the sled so that we would go faster!). Giving directions to our friends and telling them ours was the white house with the white fence in the front. Mom’s rosebush that set adjacent to the fence (it once stopped my sister Shell from crashing in to the fence during her maiden voyage on her bike without training wheels. Thorns. Ouch!). And I can’t leave out watching Dad and my brother Mike tediously scrape and paint every board and post in the fence. They painted it quite often; I don’t ever remember it looking the least bit shabby. I wasn’t allowed to help. Although, I never asked. It was simply something that Mike and Dad tackled together; it was kind of an unspoken rule that this was their thing, much like mowing the yard. This is where I need to mention that Dad took the fence down shortly after Mike left for college and a career in the Marine Corps. Dad would jokingly say “I lost my painter”. To this day, Mike still chuckles about that!
You can see the fence in the background. Dad and Mike took a break from some snow shoveling to build a snowman. Mike must have been 5 or 6 when this picture was taken. No doubt they were warmed up afterwards with a mug of Dad's special hot chocolate.
Now that you understand the past bit of nostalgia, we’ll move on to the present. David drew up plans for a shelf and began to piece the weathered boards in to a new display for our table. He didn’t have a pattern; just sketched out an image in his mind, wrote down some measurements and took to sawing! I think he inherited that ability from his dad. David and I think so much alike; we finish each others’ sentences. I didn’t have to tell him what I wanted. He knew exactly what I wanted and I knew he would turn out the shelf I had pictured in my mind. And he did just that.
I think this would look great hanging on my wall with some of my other nostalgic treasures on it! But he didn’t stop there, nor does the nostalgia that is attached to this shelf. To further fuel my sentimental side, he ventured to Dad’s tool shed and found license plates from the year each of us was born. (I am not sure why Dad kept all those license plates, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time I’m sure.) No need to tell you what years the plates were from. I will just say that those too were weathered with age like the fence board. David added them to the back wall of the shelf.
Proudly displaying our soap slices and decorated with a bit of greenery, the new shelf was exactly what we needed to add height and character to our display! Nostalgia. It is ever-present for me and I am thrilled when the physical pieces connect and I can bring a piece of it home. Home where it is visible to the human eye and not just a place in my heart. Home where I can share it with others. The shelf is a true example. It is a part of my past. A childhood that I so lovingly recall. It reminds me of the importance of home and family. That there truly is no place like home and the loved ones that gather there as well as in our hearts. It is a sentimental place.
We’ve talked about the past and present. Now the future. From this point forward, this shelf – an important piece of nostalgia for me – will be an integral part of our table display at the market and other events. It will quietly adorn our table as we visit with customers and friends. They won’t know the nostalgia that it secretly whispers to me, or the sentimental attachment that I have to the weathered and worn boards that make up this rustic looking display. They won’t understand that this shelf connects wonderful memories of the past to the present and future for me. But I will understand, and for this I am thankful.
We’ve talked about the past and present. Now the future. From this point forward, this shelf – an important piece of nostalgia for me – will be an integral part of our table display at the market and other events. It will quietly adorn our table as we visit with customers and friends. They won’t know the nostalgia that it secretly whispers to me, or the sentimental attachment that I have to the weathered and worn boards that make up this rustic looking display. They won’t understand that this shelf connects wonderful memories of the past to the present and future for me. But I will understand, and for this I am thankful.
Our table (complete with nostalgic accents) all set up and ready for the craft fair. You can see the picket fence shelf I mentioned, and the enamelware bowls that hold our soaps and add a touch of days gone by to our theme.
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