Not For a Million Dollars

The saying is, "I wouldn't take a million dollars for it." That is how I feel about this small handmade table. I think my Mother's daddy made it. As I am now an orphan with only younger siblings, I have no way to authenticate this sweet table's history.  But just in case, it is not for sale.

Although this pretty print in an original frame is not the same one Grandma had at the farm, it is still precious to me. I must have been the age my little Sierra is now when Grandma gently explained the meaning of the picture. She said Jesus sent a beautiful angel to watch over the two children as they crossed the broken bridge over the dangerous waters. I think she wanted me to also notice how the older sister was helping her little brother and hoping I would be kinder to my own brother. Anyway, I am comforted to think of the angel's protection.                                                                                     

                

Now this little metal footstool was made by my Grandpa. My Mother's daddy was a big as life, John Wayne looking, rough around the edges man and a welder by trade. I never saw much of him since he lived in Texas. When I was growing up, Texas was a lot farther away than it is now. Mama took me and my brother on a train there once though. We drank a lot of water out of little cone-shaped paper cups. I have this stool and another taller one I am saving for my kids.

Mama's lamp. She kept a philodendron growing in this lamp base as well. Her plants were never as wilted-looking as mine are. The lamp probably had just as much dust on it then as it does now though. She is such a pretty little redbird. I'm keeping this too.

I bought these rubber squeaky dolls at a flea  market about ten years ago just because I thought they were cute. Then someone told me my beloved nine days younger cousin had one like this boy doll when he was little. He probably used it as a teether. They said I called him Shimmy. His name was Jimmy and he died when we were fifteen. I will never part with these either.

Christmas at my Oklahoma City grandma's house always included these mischievous-looking bookend elves. They were always on a shelf above her picture window. I longed to play with them but was never allowed to touch them. I loved looking at them and they are displayed year-round at my house.

Check out the following link to see how Dena (otherwise known as the fabulous Girl Next Door) incorporated these cherished items in with my newly purchased ones.
http://www.decorating-ideas-galore.com/home-decorating-help.html

I have a houseful of other odds and ends that I intend to sell. They have more monetary value than any of the things I plan to keep but they are certainly less valuable.

If I could only talk hubby into parting with some of his keepsakes. When questioned about his large collection his response is, "I didn't buy it to sell it." And no matter how rusted it is or how long it has been non-running in the field, do not call it junk. He will just reply, "It is merchandise." Personally, I thought merchandise was supposed to be sold. But it is all good. He obviously likes vintage so surely I am here to stay.