Collecting Things: Watering Cans and Baskets

“One woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure.”


journal entry:

I have long wondered why people collect the things they do.  Wouldn’t it be interesting to know?  If you collect pigs, what does that mean?  If you collect books?  Shoes?  China?

I don’t know why I am drawn to the things that I am.  But, I am.  Two of my weaknesses are on display in my kitchen above the counter.  Watering cans and wire baskets.  Not all watering cans call to me.  I like silver and bronze and brown.  I like shapes.  Different shapes.  The bird is a watering can.  The frog is too. Some of the cans are very small.  Some middle sized and some big.  I never use them to water anything.  They are just to look at.  I guess  that is what collections are.  Similar things to look at.

Next I admit to a fascination with wire baskets.  Yes, I know.  They are everywhere.  But not every basket catches my eye.  These do.  Hung together with the watering cans, the baskets are interesting.  Since they are baskets . . . you can see right through them.  Nothing blocks out the light.

The homemade baker’s rack is one of my favorite things.  I couldn’t find anything I could afford that looked the way I wanted it to.  So, I did some thinking and prowling around.  I found this wonderful piece of wrought iron in a garden shop.  It stretches the entire length of my kitchen counter.  It is about thirty inches wide.  Since the ceiling is pitched, Grandpa had to use his mathematical hat to figure out the chains.  He put the hooks into studs for strength.  When I first put it together, I hung a long, rectangular piece of stained glass underneath.  It let the light through.  It contained hummingbirds.  One day we came home and it had fallen.  Broken.   I bought it for $35 thirty-five years ago and carted it around from house to house.   Then, one day, we were walking through an outdoor market where I spotted the piece with the stems and leaves.  It was the exact color and texture and length to replace the glass.  Ahhhhh.  Better.

I didn’t start out saying “oh, I am going to collect that”.  Collections just happen. One piece at a time over years.  As it turns out, I have other collections which I didn’t know were really collections until I looked back.  Bookplates.  Little clocks.  Paper punches.  Art.  Broaches.

“Heaven is overhead.”


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to Top