Old New England Glassware in the Home - Part Twenty-Nine - "Grave Digger"

Old New England Glassware in the Home

Part Twenty-Nine

"Grave Digger"

            Annie Pester (“Elizabeth Ann”) (“Mrs. Anabranch Pester”) lived with her husband at the Pester Farm when I first visited her there in the late nineteen sixties.  I was in high school.  I had repeatedly encountered Annie at local ‘yard’ and ‘tag’ sales.  From these encounters we had first ‘spoken’ and then ‘talked’ and then

            One Saturday morning as we were both leaving an unresponsive ‘SALE’ she invited me to come to the Pester farm to ‘see it’; the ‘broken’ ‘barn cupboard’ she’d “FOUND”.  The farm was less than a mile away... ‘at the top of the hill’

            From the top of this hill, in Sweden, Maine, one looked “back” toward ‘the (White) Mountains’.  That morning I paid no attention to this for I was ‘very used to’ a ‘that view’ from the ‘Lakes Region’ of southwestern Maine (southern Oxford County).  I did pay close attention to the Pester farm.  This was not the first time I had done that:

            Paid attention

            To the “Anabranch Pester Farm”.

            “Was Branch (Anabranch) there?” was my primary question.  “Branch Pester” was a local ‘reason with’ (avoid) for ...local teenage boys.  Anabranch and Annie had two ‘teenage’ daughters.

            “YOUR THAT YOUNG ANTIQUES MAN SHE TALKS ABOUT” he said to me... in the Pester farm’s yard while I stood next to my... mother’s... car.  Then he left us (Annie and I).  He walked over to his truck and then across the yard to the barn.  Then back to the truck.  He got in that and drove away.  That was all in about two minutes.

            We (Annie and I) then walked to the barn, went in the open-door front, turned to the left; the ‘far side’ of the barn and... came upon... there... the ‘broken barn cupboard' she’d 'found’.  I...

            Knew that what I “SEE” was not a “THAT”.  It was a ‘once’ ‘built in’ corner cupboard that had the bottom door ‘there’ but ‘off’.  The top of the cupboard was ‘always open’; it never ‘had a door’.  It had been ‘built in’ ...somewhere... once.  I was quick to configure that... and that

            “FOUND” means Annie FOUND this cupboard... pretty close to where it “IS NOW” at the far left ‘front’ of the ‘barn’.  She ‘drove around’ in a ‘car’ like my mother’s so... “she didn’t load this somewhere”.  I could figure.  Also... the cupboard was ‘too good’ to have been “FOUND” any other way... or place... than “IN” the “FAR BACK” of the

            Anabranch Pester Farm’s... “OLD”... barn

            Where, for some historic reason... IT

            “HAD BEEN PUT BACK THERE”

            After ‘being taken’ “OUT” of ...perfectly obvious to my sweet seventeen self... the “OLD HOUSE” that was the center of the Anabranch Pester

            Farm

            On the hillside top... looking west... at the White Mountains... near Sweden, Maine.

            I offered, as the minutes ticked by, ‘twenty-five dollars’.

            “IT’S BROKEN YOU SEE?” Annie said.

            “Yes.” I said

I sold the cupboard; the eighteenth century built-in corner cupboard from the original homestead house of the (Anabranch) Pester Farm... inclusive of I promoting that sale by lying the cupboard down in my family’s barn yard to “SHOW” the “FROM THE COAST” “antiques dealers” the... BURN MARKS
Underneath the shelves
In the top section of the cupboard
Where the candles... when set in the cupboard... “BURNED” the ‘underside’ of the shelf above it; ‘little burnt spots’ (“you can’t miss them:  They MUST be there” and ‘always are’).
“Oh aren’t those wonderful!” and... he and his wife ‘bought it’.
Do I look back on all of this right now and ‘wish’ that ‘no way’ did I sell that?
Of course.
But that “THAT” is ‘part of this’ TOO.
I sold ‘it’ for one hundred and twenty-five dollars.
I ‘made’, I figured, ‘one hundred dollars less twenty for hauling it around’.
I made ‘eighty bucks’ the first time I visited the Anabranch Pester farm
In the late nineteen sixties.

            Ralph Waldo Emerson was never heard quoted at the Anabranch Pester Farm although ‘Branch’ verbally fumed ‘self reliance’.  ‘Branch’ never quoted Whitman either.  That I know of.  Nor Hawthorne.  Annie had a red letter “A” on a blanket... she kept neatly folded on the porch swing on the front porch of the front addition, circa 1830, of the farm.  I am confident that I am the only person who ever connected that “A” with Hawthorne and that connection was for no other reason than it being a big red “A” before my eyes and that following on an eight grade English class forced reading of ‘that book’.

            At this point-in-time... of the blanket on the porch swing, I did not notice then (age seventeen) but did shortly discern (by age twenty-two?) that a ‘center’ Greek Revival ‘pillar’ of this porch attached to the front of the ‘front addition’ ‘circa 1830’ of the Anabranch Pester Farm was ‘gone’.  Not therefore ‘missing’.  I discerned.  IT was TOO ‘in the barn’; down the far left side to the rear ‘leaning up’.  That’s the way it always was for every one of my visits to the

            Anabranch Pester Farm

            Until

            Branch and Annie’s granddaughter ‘sold it’; the ‘missing’ pillar.

One of Branch and Annie’s daughters... eventually... ‘took over’ “the farm”.  SHE had two daughters ‘there’ ‘too’.  One of those daughters... eventually... ‘took over’ “the farm... TOO.  She has two sons.  And lives there (the Anabranch Pester Farm) NOW.  When her mother sold the pillar ‘missing’ from the front porch, she and her mother had no connection that this ‘thing’ ‘went to the farm’.  By the time anyone else who ‘would know that’ discovered this had happened, it was ‘too late’.  The pillar was sold, and resold, first in Maine.  Then in Connecticut.  Then on 26^th Street in New York City where it was ‘carried off’ to be ‘displayed’ by ‘collectors’ in their ‘loft’.  It is still known to ‘have come from a farm in Maine’.  I have been told.  By the picker who ‘picked it’.  And sold it.

            Annie was “one hundred an one” it is said when she died in 1986.  She ‘got the antiques bug’ as early as 1955 she claimed.  To me.  She had two kinds of antiques... at her home... of the Anabranch Pester Farm.  Kind one was the “THINGS” she “FOUND” in her travels locally to “EVERY SALE”.  Kind two was the “THINGS” she “FOUND” in the Anabranch Pester Farm.  This second group was divided by things “I LIKE” and things “I DON’T LIKE”.  That was the ‘schooling’ that went into her ‘antiques business’.  The ‘kind one’ ‘things’ were always... and only... “things I like”.

            She was ‘inclined’ to ‘keep’ most all of the ‘things I like’.  And she would sell ‘most all’ of the things she ‘I don’t like’.  Therefore... and to my careful notice, ‘things’ Annie ‘found’ in the farm that she ‘does not like’ were the best antiques ‘she got’ ‘ever’ and ‘does not know’...this.  I was not the only one who ‘knew this’.

            Although other... at first usually older... men... who were ‘of antiques’; ‘antiquarians’ (pickers)... ‘went there’ (“picked”) (the Anabranch Pester Farm) AND even ‘knew Branch’ well enough to... stand by his pig pen with him and, too, ‘scratch the hog’s back’ with ‘a stick’... TOO... I... became a regular ‘stop by’... TOO.  Branch avoided me and... I avoided his daughters.  Annie... in her antique bug... gathered.  And gathered.  This gather... for the most part... did NOT appeal to ‘other’.  I... on the other hand... and persistently “doing” the coastal flea market(s) “NOW”... ‘could use’ ‘stuff like that’ soooo... “You two get along fine in your trades don’t you”.  Said Branch.  To me.  That was good for twenty years.  By that time Branch had died and... Annie was ‘moved out of the farm’ and died.  Too.

            The ‘one of her daughters’ ‘moved in.  And ‘cleaned up’ and ‘cleaned out’ and ‘throw out’.  This last was ‘sort of’:  She... for the most part... ‘put it (this throw out) in the barn’.  The ‘farm’ no longer ‘farmed’.  The barn no longer ‘barned’?  WELL... its DOOR became the ‘where you park your truck’ if you ‘are a picker’ “JUST GOING BY”.  The ‘piles’ in the barn were an unstated ‘permanent yard sale’... at the

            Anabranch Pester Farm.

            This daughter spawned two daughters.  They became ‘teenage’ while I ‘JUST GOING BY’ the “BARN”.  Then they, too, ‘grew up’ and... their mother, too, “getting old”.  Too.  Soon one of these daughters ‘moved in too’ ‘with her husband (“HE’S A NICE GUY YOU KNOW”):

            Farm truck

            Ball cap

            Camo pants

            “Bow hunting”

            “Black powder deer”

            Church:

            “ONE OF THOSE CHURCHES”.

            School?

            “HOME SCHOOL”

            Boat

            Summer

            Camp

            “UP TO”.

            He... always watched me.. in my dealings... of my backed up truck... with ‘her mother’... ‘at the barn’... until she died.  Can’t say that I’ve been back since then.

            I bought the EAPG from the ‘house cupboards’ starting with Annie who I doubt ever drank from an EAPG goblet in her life.  The ‘glassware’ ‘come out’ of ‘the house’ “pretty right along” as Annie ‘cleaned out’ the “I don’t” from the “I do” (“like”):  The old New England glassware... in the home.  She didn’t get ‘all of it’ out ...in her lifetime.  IT TOOK A TASTE for ‘plastic’ and (“CONWAY” [NH]) box store design innovation too:  Yeah... we all remember when ‘North Conway’ was NOT and ‘outlet’ destination... do we not?  WELL ANYWAY, they’d go over there and ‘get’

            “FOR THE HOUSE”.

            That “HOUSE?” (Part Twenty-Five) was now... becoming “ONCE WAS” the ‘Anabranch Pester Farm’.  “THE BOYS ARE GROWING UP AREN’T THEY.  GONNA GO OVER TO Meredith (NH) TO SEE THE GRAVE DIGGER”.

            Then they showed me “THE PICTURE” (photograph) of ‘the boys’ and the ‘Grave Digger’.

            They’re ‘keeping that’.

            It’s ‘not for sale’.

            And...

In the Anabranch Pester Farm

There ain’t much else left ‘you’d call antique’ ‘in there’ ‘anyway’.

            I do

            Still have some of

            The old New England glassware (EAPG)

            I purchased

            In the (that) home

            It’s “out in the barn somewhere... I’m pretty sure”.

Old New England Glassware in the Home - Part Twenty-Eight - "Catch and Release"

Old New England Glassware in the Home

Part Twenty-Eight

"Catch and Release"

            Collectors... of EAPG... actually... did (do) very little (scant) ‘carry off’ of... old New England glassware... in the (from their – the glassware’s) (old habitat of the old New England) home.  They; the collector of EAPG... had difficulty accessing ‘it’; the glassware in the home, and when they did ‘get that far’ often they ‘choked’, ‘stalled’, ‘screwed it up’, ‘fell short’ (“feel faint”), ‘lost out’ or... never even realized that there WAS ‘old glassware’ “THERE” (in the cupboards).  This still happens to this day and applies to all collectors endevoriung to ‘buy out of houses’ what they ‘collect’.  I am not writing about this.  But.

            It takes an antiquarian dealer...:  Picker... to do this “BUY... out of”... well. WHY could this be?  It is the common laws... of the decency... of the declaration... of access to the ...antiquarian... opulence ‘found in the (old New England) home.  One is NOT just gonna sashay in there and ‘clean out’ the ‘cupboards’.  One will most often ‘stall’ at the DOORWAY when ask “WHAT... DO YOU... WANT?” .

            The specific difference is that I, an antiquarian ‘dealer’; an antiquarian ‘picker’; the one who “GOES INTO THE HOUSES” and “BUY” (‘antiques’)... when at the doorway of the... opened door... the “THEY” opening the door know that “I” at the door am “THERE” to “DO THAT”; ‘buy antiques’.  “Ahhhh...” you say.

            Of course you do you idiot but that is because YOU have no historical context to ‘place’ this deceptively normal action... “IN”.  I... like the guy who “is here to clean the furnace’... et al... “AM” ...”SOMEONE”.  Collectors endeavoring to “SAME” are most often ‘one trick dog’ (“I COLLECT”) stammering... nincompoops who are ‘not known’; ‘not someone’.  It is... and there is... a historic tradition of the “I” doing this “THAT”.  Again... I am not writing about this ...rather lengthy... THAT other than to POINT OUT... that ...not very much ‘old New England glassware was (and is) carried off from ...old New England homes by “OTHERS” than the “I AM A PICKER”.  Old New England glassware DOES leave the home ...in abundance and by the ‘rampant’ but... it is not the hunter – gatherer collector of EAPG doing ‘take away’.  It is the older sibling... the professional ‘old house’ sleuth who, as I often say and do... ‘put that on the dashboard’ (of my truck).

            And I don’t do this by sitting in my truck cab eating my lunch... although this is my preferred poise when the “THEY” of the “ESTATE” I am “IN” comes by to “CHECK” on “HOW ARE THINGS GOING”.  We go inside together to the dining room.’

            “It’s empty.” they... verbally after they... observe.  “You’ve cleaned it out?”

            “Yes.”

            “The cupboards too?”

            “Yes.”

            Often times they will go over and open a cupboard bottom door and... look... inside.

            But that... is that.... for the

            Old New England glassware in... THAT... home.

            Like I said; I destroy the habitat.  I know I do that. (Part Twenty-Six [B]).

            Left to the... ‘not me’... old New England glassware... in the cupboards... and attics... of the (old New England) home... has a much more basic extraction.  I suggested it at the very beginning of this composition (Part One “Cupboards Full ...Boxes in the Attic).  Most EAPG is ‘removed’ from its habitat by general and loosely conceptualized ‘household’ cleaning... up... that continues to cleaning... out... with this reaching the ‘throwing out’ and that; ‘throwing out’, being realized in a variety of ‘riddance’ options.  Mostly... I’m ‘not there for that’.

            But I catch up to the ‘throw out’ by ...subversive travel... in the circles... of the ‘riddance’ options.  I do, by occupation... do... ‘stare at table tops of old glassware’ ‘all day long’, everyday... and have for decades.  It’s my job.

            The stabilizing of this random recklessness and ...the creation (in the ‘secondary [“USED”] markets) of the remarkable repository of ‘old New England (EAPG) once... in the home... but now ‘thrown out’... that is ...floating... ‘out there’... is stabilized by no one ‘knowing what it is’ raised higher by

            No one cares.

            I catch.  I release?  Catching is easy and perpetual.  “Daily” “always” I find “some” (EAPG).  Releasing... (selling) my catch... is

            HOPELESS.

            It has been that way for decades and has, through those decades, cascaded down this waterfall of ‘hopeless’ to be ‘awash’ in the pool at the base of the cascade of hopeless...; to be.... IN ...A ...POOL of “DEEP” “DARK” “HOPELESS”.  No:  Your not there.  I never see you.  To get there is a ‘can be done’... but it is... a brutal truth... ‘not likely’.  No.  One is better off remaining with the plastic juice glass quenching one’s thirst after ...spraying ‘weed killer’ around the ‘problem spots’ at the ...edges... of the ‘old New England’ “PROPERTY” one... ‘manages’ commonly referred to as “I OWN”.

            What this means for me is that when I buy the pressed leaf pattern goblet set at the church fair (Part Fifteen)... ‘for nothing’... ‘years ago’... it is a ‘still around’ my ‘stock’ of ‘antiques’ because... no one... has ever... ‘bought it’.  On that particular set I may even say that ... no one... has ever... even... mentioned ... or touched... it... let alone “expressed any interest”.  Of course, inclusive with ALL my antiquarian acquisitions, I ‘don’t help them’ (anyone... ‘notice’ any... thing... ‘I have’).  A little unfair of me?  No:  It’s YOUR problem.  Not MY problem.  And certainly not the goblet set’s problem...

            That you ...don’t know... and ... don’t ...care.

            I accept the terms.  The absolute highlight for I has been the absolute delight of having this absolute persistent survey of ‘old New England glassware in the home’ be absolute-LEE ‘I live here.  Leave me alone.’ FOR BOTH the glassware and I... ‘in the (their natural) habitat’.  The rest of it (glassware intercourse) is just a sham of ‘old New England glassware “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

            I am taking about the purity of professional decorum that the “WHO CARES” has fabricated ...for me... in my lifetime.  This is a... very sheltered... golden halo of ‘they of the most’ taking themselves ‘out’ on this subject... by themselves... and staying ‘there’ (self taken out) for my whole lifetime.  What does one think?  That there is going to be a reading of essays such as this and the ‘they of the most’ will ...rise... in interest...:  Set down the plastic juice glass and ‘make over’ their (old New England) ‘glassware’ self?

            Not happening.

            And... not ‘in the (old New England) home’ either.

            And... “NO MONEY”.

            Too.

            This last is the key to my lifetime of peaceful co-existence with ‘old New England glassware’.  Sure I destroy a few habitats along the way but at least I don’t go around in flip-flops chewing gum and failing to notice that my toenail’s polish is... ah... ‘chipped’.   I am not the one with the tall waxed paper cup capped with its snap-on plastic lid and protruding-from-the-‘straw hole’ straw that “I SAT IT DOWN I CAN’T FIND IT”.  Failing to discern that one is not only no longer ‘sweet sixteen’ AND, is too, aging gracelessly (like all humanity) TOO...:  Would one think (feel?) one ‘could and should’ perhaps ‘square oneself’ with the (J. D. Salinger sense) ‘phony’ of the new New England ‘hot top’ of ...old New England... through introspective appreciation of that VERY WHOLE New England’s creation (design innovation) of “EAPG” ‘glassware’.  It does, should one ‘have some’ (EAPG) actually ‘touch the lips’.

            No:  It is just fine.  No money and ‘please go away’.  And you do:  “Good-bye”.  Once the collector’s ‘got tired of doing that’ (collecting EAPG) (decline started in the 1930’s, has continued onward and never faltered) there has been ‘nothing’.  At all.  There are a few resilient connoisseurs who ‘do that’; gather and hoard.  As no one ‘cares’, a ‘glass collection’ today is a... symptom of... ‘hoarder’.  This is especially blatant should ‘that one’ endeavor to account for and/or explain their ‘behavior’.  “Where DID I set my ICE COFFEE down?  OH IT’S STILL IN THE CAR!  Just a minute:  I’m going to get it.”

            “OK, ok, ok:  Where were we?”

            We were... and are...:  When it comes to ‘old New England glassware in the home’: “YOU” (‘they of the most’) are NOT a ‘comes to’.  The ‘they’ are ‘self-out’ and ‘no change in sight’ and

            That is fine; a fertile paradise.  “No one needs to do that.”  That is absolutely right.  “Designer” “outlet” “shopping” “bags” “I”... am in line with my credit card.  “Breeze through the security” “parking lot” “space” and having “to walk that far” you old Yankee with the sun on you and the sunglasses slipping down the nose while “I THINK” that “I WILL GET SOMETHING TO DRINK”.  In the last... three to five generations... living in the same ‘old house’?  “You say?”

Old New England Glassware in the Home - Part Twenty-Seven - "They of the Most"

Old New England Glassware in the Home

Part Twenty-Seven

"They of the Most"

            After the creation of EAPG and the... infiltration of that glassware into the New England home... and after the creation and infiltration of decadent design EAPG into that same New England home too... there came a pause; a rest period... a ‘nap’.  The “glassware”... was... in the home.  There was ‘a lot’ (ever more) ‘of it’.  The decadent design of glassware amplified at a direct ratio (one to one) with the decadent decline of the manufacturing qualities of ‘glassware’.  This ratio rode upon a marketing... development... that included access to ‘glassware’ ‘for the home’ through... ‘mail order’, ‘department stores’, ‘premium giveaway’ and the always ‘work-in-progress’ of... ‘fashion’.  This last carried ‘implied (good) taste’ too.  For example, a cereal boxed premium giveaway ‘spooner’ (a kitchen table pressed glass vessel for holding the (stamped brass and ‘silver’ [in name only] plated spoons to eat the cereal) was presented to the... developing and expanding... middle class domestic vision... of...  material opulence****... inclusive of this presentation offering NO design education or ‘history’ AND postulating that ‘this crud’ (the premium giveaway glassware) “IS GOOD TASTE SEE”....:  Lifeboats in the water; the Titanic of EAPG had hit an iceberg and

            Down it went

            ?

            Not quite... I explained...:  In its habitat (cupboard) it (EAPG) was ‘just’ moved back and to the sides (Part Twenty-Six [C]).  It stayed there... “undisturbed”.

---

**** :  I up-ante that ‘material opulence’, particularly... when viewed from an antiquarian eye resting upon ‘good taste’... was here (late Victorian ‘gay nineties’) introduced and... continues to this day... to be THE guiding light of ‘good taste’ for... ‘the they’ of... ‘the most’.  That means, for example, that the pair of sneakers that a ‘you like’... is used as a derivative directive of what ‘is’ ‘good taste’... particularly since there are ... ‘so many (pairs of sneakers) to choose from’.  It is that bad and comes from that ‘long ago’ too.  Again, for example... take the design heritage of ‘towels’:  “No one knows that” yet... ‘foist’ of ‘their taste’ in and of towels... is rampant.  As the woman said:  “Bathrooms!  Don’t talk to me about bathrooms!” (Part Twenty-Six [C])

            By the era of perfected killing of humans with mechanized war (Civil War-1863-ish to the end of World War One)... old New England glassware... in the home... stayed out of sight.  One could not fly over enemy trenches and drop an... EAPG compote as ‘a bomb’.  This compote... developed its peculiar domestic state:  It ‘floated’ in the (old New England) home while... ‘all Hell broke loose’ right around it.

            At the Louisa May Alcott homestead museum in Concord, MA., one may see an example of this.  There is a ‘diamond point’ pattern EAPG compote ‘in there’; inside the museum... that is still... part of the ‘original Alcott home estate contents’.  I’ve... seen it... and watched it... ‘float’ ‘in there’ for years.  This is easy for it is the most prominent object of ‘old New England glassware’ (EAPG) in THAT home.  Sometimes it’s ‘there’, sometimes it’s ‘over there’ or... sometimes ‘right there’ or... sometimes NO WHERE IN SIGHT.  But when I go back again... “Oh... there it is”.  Nothing, no one, anything, ever... is ever... about it.  It just floats.  One, now, after study of EAPG through this essay... WILL be able to ‘do this too’:  Locate and track an ‘EAPG... FLOAT’ ‘in the home’... and like I... ‘watch it for years’.

            I do that.

            So can you.

            Meanwhile back at the cupboard bottom the rest of the EAPG stayed... literally... ‘out of sight’ AND ‘out of mind’.  Until after the (WWI) war.  Then... there... within the grail of ‘colonial revival’... FASHIION... having this fashion... rosed, rised, risen and “OF THAT” beginning in the ...1850’s... and before... to peak, plateau, ‘fall back’ and become thereafter a ‘known’ ‘fashion’... caused... for reasons having nothing to do with me.  Or you.  To... TOO.... “FIND” “OLD” “GLASS”

            And then find that finding ‘interesting’.

            And then a ‘study’ of ‘that’ (old glass).  Sort of.

            And then a ‘gather’ of (some of) that.  Sort of.

            And then... came to be heard... “I collect”

            “Old Glass” (capitalized title of subject).

            This ‘I collect’ is NOT what I’ve have been expostulating about as ‘old New England glassware in the home.

            No.

            The “I collect” imperative is the first direct assault of the habitats of old New England glassware... in the home:  THEY (collectors of ...EAPG...) opened the cupboard doors and ‘carried off’... the innocent earliest of the glassware that ‘I live here.  Leave me alone’ (Part Twenty-Six [B]).

            You know what those; this select collector group from the ‘they of the most’, did with their carry off?  They washed it.  And put it on a cupboard shelf too, to, as they titled it, “display”.  And discoursed amongst themselves regarding pattern, form, glass metal qualities, “I have”, “I’ve seen”, “did you know” and, of course... “I’m keeping that”.  THESE CRUDE collector ‘they of the most’... removed old New England glassware from it’s original habitat and then displayed it in captured ‘collector’s prisoner’ state on their own cupboard and... would not let go of it (their captured... ‘collected’ ‘old’ ‘glassware’.

            That practice lasted until ‘they of the most’... got sick of ‘doing that’ and ‘doing that’ ‘fell out of fashion’ (peaked, plateaued, fell back and is.. still around... nearly one hundred years later).  Sort of.  What does ‘sort of’ mean?  It means... check your smart phone... after taking the cupboards out of the dining room and leaning them up in the barn to put in a window “I don’t know yet” (if these cupboards will, too... be sold into collector slavery).

            Isn’t this nice?  NOT quite as nice as PLASTIC... is it.  THAT is nice when your lips

Touch that;

When your sips

Are plastic.

            I believe we all know now of the extent of the petroleum foot print and it’s influences on design... on glassware... in the home.  Even juice glasses are plastic “now”.