Monday, April 28, 2008
When you look into your Mother's eyes do you see a reflection of yourself?
I'm not just speaking of resemblance, because features are passed from one generation to another. I am referring to one's inner self, habits, motivation and dedication.
As April draws to a close and the month of May lies ahead with it brings Mother's Day.
Remembering all the pain my own Mother has endured this past year, I am so thankful that I have been able to enjoy her presence and admire her devotion to family.
I only hope my daughter sees something equally good, when she gazes into her Mother's eyes.
* Picture of Mona Lisa's eyes by DaVinci.
Posted by Susan McShannon-Monteith at Monday, April 28, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Have you ever gazed upon a raindrop, a dewdrop, a teardrop...
Each one yielding a reflection of light, encapsulating a rainbow of possibilties. They capture a little world within; a promise, purity, an enlightenment.
Raindrops unite to become rainfall and bring moisture to the earth, bringing flowers, trees and crops to life. It is a fundamental necessity for without it we shall die.
Dewdrops that dance on the lawn, an accumulation from the evening coolness that lingered until dawn. A delectable treat to walk barefoot through in the early morning light, causing the tiny prisms of color to twinkle beneath one's toes.
And a teardrop encompassing the feeling of sadness or heartache. But these transparent drops that travel down the cheek may also reflect laughter, joy and overwhelming gaiety.
As you set about the week ahead may you be greeted by raindrops that bring flowers to your door. Kick off your shoes and walk barefoot through the morning dew. Shed a little tear for those less fortunate than yourself or laugh 'till it brings tears to your eyes.
Life is good, drink it in and enjoy.
Posted by Susan McShannon-Monteith at Monday, April 21, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
I am searching through dusty attics, peeking in wardrobes and armoires, looking and sorting for goodies to bring to the auction floor.
Each dresser drawer, cupboard and cubbyhole holds a fragment of a person's life.
Some pieces tattered but treasured, capturing a moment in time so special that it has been tucked away, forgotten. Others that were gazed upon, caressed and remembered, bringing a tear of joy or sadness to the cheek. I will be travelling in that fleeting moment almost evanescent.
I will have the pleasure of separating and categorizing these life long accumulations.
I'll be busy for awhile, perhaps unable to post but upon my return I shall share the treasures found.
It's Springtime and for those of us in the appraisal and auction business - let the show begin.
Posted by Susan McShannon-Monteith at Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
There once was a Scottish lass
Who ventured off to sea,
For she knew from an early age
A pirate she would be.
So she sailed on a ship named the 'Bonnie Lass'
Across the seven seas
Plundering treasure and capturing the hearts
Of many a pirate that be.
When alas one day on a wharf at Tortuga
Her eyes did meet and her breath did sigh
For the pirate Johnny stood he,
With his rum laden kiss and manly scent, he took her heart you see
And off they sailed on his ship together
Named, 'My Lass Come Away With Me'...
Posted by Susan McShannon-Monteith at Sunday, April 13, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
Along the eastern seaboard of the United States textile mills were built in abundance beginning in the early 1800's. Powered by water the spinning machines produced textiles.
They drew workers from surrounding areas and had an immense impact on their lives and communities.
While the mill girls (as they were called) are a fascinating story of lasses as young as ten, working six days a week, twelve to fourteen hour shifts for $2.00 - this is about a by-product of the production.
Many convents were also in these areas, most slightly north in Quebec. Relying on generosity, mill seconds and discontinued fabrics, bolts of milled cotton (usually shirting) arrived at these places the nuns called home.
No piece was wasted as the Sisters' nimble fingers cut, pieced and quilted or tied the fabric into warm, lofty covers.
Though utilitarian in purpose some allowed an individual to demonstrate her love of subtle color and careful patchwork.
Most were made for the less fortunate in the close-knit, surrounding towns and villages. Some did remain to warm the souls of the dedicated women who made them. Sewn together by blessed threads a few still survive for us to enjoy.
Picture: Inside a Convent
Convent Quilt: made of shirting and apron gingham - early 1900's
Posted by Susan McShannon-Monteith at Monday, April 07, 2008