Sunday, June 6, 2010

Treasure Hunts

My father had a love for junk. I've never seen so much passion, excitement and thrill over finding junk as he had. When I was little he would take me for rides on the back of his motorcycle and we would head out into remote areas where life no longer existed, but remnants of that life were left behind. We would find an abandoned house, my dad would be so thrilled, you would think we had just came across a pot of gold. We went into every old house, barn, shed, anything that was still standing (or not). He loved to find old bottles, that was his thing, old cans, door knobs, plates, anything left behind. He always pointed out the woodwork and told me about the craftmanship no longer used or appreciated, the carved doors, hardwood floors, etc. He had so much passion and a story for each item and detail we found. Our house was filled with his collections, old trunks, lighters, perfume bottles, medicine bottles, old cans, anything old.

I didn't think much of it when I was younger. I thought the exploration part of it was fun, but I didn't understand his passion.

In high school it hit me. I would find myself pulling over on the side of the road to explore an abandoned house. My friends thought I was crazy... "why on earth do you want to go in THERE"! I don't know why, I just HAVE to, and I came out of that house feeling fulfilled and happy.

I am a mom of six, living in Idaho now and I've dragged my kids in every empty house, barn and building I've found. I've filled my house with treasures rescued from these old houses, including beautiful glass doors, cystal knobs, architectural pieces, screen doors, built in bookcases, yep... all the "good stuff".

I lived in Kansas for a few years (lots of old farmhouses there), and always had a tool kit in my truck! I was a prepared treasure hunter! Boy the things I made my husband drag out of those houses!

My passion for anything antique and vintage, broken or not came from him. I love my pieces just as they were, as found... chipped paint, rusty and all. He taught me to appreciate the past... how things were made to last and with quality. "To hold hands with the past generations" he would say.

So this is for you dad... for the love of the past you instilled in me and in my son Drew who has the same desire for the good old stuff. I sure miss you and I miss those treasure hunts.

1 comment:

  1. How fortunate you are to have early lessons in junkin' and a father who appreciated it.