Why is "The Old Dark Blue" the "Old Dark Blue" in "Old New England" - Part Two - "The Other Stuff is Phony."

Why is "The Old Dark Blue"

The "Old Dark Blue"

In "Old New England".

Part Two

"The OTHER Stuff is Phony."

            As I stated (Part One)... it was a decade before I found my own “Old Dark Blue”.  This was a perfectly “right” find...:  Absolutely perfectly right with all the trimmings of all that it is... to be... the absolute perfect portrayal of the... “all about anyway” of ‘The Old Dark Blue’.  Yes... it was a ‘that fine’

            A find.

            This was found within my ‘first estate’.  Contents.  NOT JUST ANY OLD estate contents of the antiquarian’s mind’s eye.  No...:  It was ‘old school’; when estates were... ah... different.

            “Back then”.

            Then... ‘back then’ an ‘estate contents’ was applied to ...BE... (mean)... an old New England house in an old New England village that was the historic family home of the owners who were one of the original settlers of the village and always ‘live there’ (in the home) for as long as the... village had ever been there including this home being ‘one of the first houses built’, et al.   And... that family finally ‘died out’ (Part One).  And that that house also looks ‘old’, ‘abandoned’, ‘haunted’, ‘overgrown’, ‘full’ (of stuff)... AND located in the middle of the village so “EVERYONE” “ALWAYS” went by and sees it “ALL THE TIME”

            Too.

            That kind of ‘estate contents’.

            I am not going to go on and on about this factor/feature.  These old houses used to be all over old New England.  THEY WERE OLD NEW ENGLAND.  They are gone now:  “CLEANED OUT”.  I did that:  “CLEAN” them “OUT”.

            I am writing about ‘the old dark blue’... in the ‘old New England home’.  That is just one small part of these old estate contents.  It is a very “telling” part.  VERY TELLING.  Most everyone knows nothing about that... at all.  It takes even the best student of these old New England homes a long time to discern that the old dark blue is TELLING that person about it (the old dark blue) being

            TELLING.

            And for most of that ‘telling’... it is an... ‘after the fact’ discernment.  Too.  THAT aspect is not well known or understood too... so... already I have to serve notice that all of this ‘the old dark blue’ in ‘old New England’... has a ‘sand slips through the fingers’ FEATURE too.

            The only way out of these combining... merging... enigmas... in my field tested opinion... is to have “done enough” of all “this” (old New England estate contents... hands on ...management...) that... SOME of this serves as some sort of short personal enlightenment that “there is something going on here” and one of the telling tellers is ‘the old dark blue’

            “In there”.

            Got it?  I don’t think so.  It took me decades and... I am still at it and... I am only now writing this “it” down.  From my personal vantage.

            Okay so ten years goes by from my dog door creep and I’m eighteen doing my first full bore “I BOUGHT IT” old New England estate clean out and I’m “IN THERE” “CLEANING IT OUT” for the three weeks working all day long these old estate clean outs “TOOK” to “DO”.

            Yeah, yeah, yeah: ‘grab and go’... I know.

            No... there is too much truly old ‘stuff’ in the ‘in there’ to do that (grab and go).  No.  One is forced to a very slow pace of ... cleaning EACH and every single THING ‘in there’ OUT.  SO... one day I “FIND” an Old Dark Blue ...sugar bowl... just as old and as busted up as that old sugar bowl I went through the dog door for... for my grandmother... ten years before (Part One).  It was all busted up but did have its original lid... with that being all chipped up too... “but there”.  It was a sugar bowl....:  I found an old dark blue busted sugar bowl....

            “In there”.

            That is point one.  Point two is ‘it’s a sugar bowl’.  Point three is ‘it is broken’; a fragment relic ‘in there’; a long ago no longer used or usable...  Point four... is... that this sugar bowl is the only... is the only... ‘piece’ of The Old Dark Blue... I find... in there (within the estate contents).  JUST THIS ONE BROKEN SUGAR BOWL.  No other ‘Old Dark Blue’.  “YEAH SO WHAT”.

            That’s the way I was about it.  Except, of course, that I... ah... LIKED (‘smitten with’ Part One) the Old Dark Blue busted sugar bowl... even though it had “ONLY” an English landscape scene of “GILEAD HOUSE”... and was ‘so busted’.  Yeah... I ...LIKED ...IT.  So... did not sell it for, like, the two bucks it was worth.  NO I ACTULLY ‘kept it around’... so to ‘keep around’.  And... I even, amongst others... went to hunt down my grandmother’s old dog door sugar bowl... and “LOOKED” (studied) that.  TOO.

            “Amongst  others” (above) included... TWO local old men antiques dealers who came around and I already knew ‘LIKED’ “The Old Dark Blue” so ... “LOOKED” (studied) the sugar bowl “ALL OVER”.  TOO.  And

            Stuff like that.

            I liked it.  I kept it.  Around; the THIS Old Dark Blue Sugar Bowl.  With the “English” “Scene” “on it”.

            Going back into the this estate contents and the this old sugar bowl being the ‘only dark blue in there’; this may be... tweaked.  There was ‘a lot’ of ‘old china’ in the estate contents.  MOST ALL OF “IT” dated from the popular ‘romantic’ ‘aesthetic’ 1835-1865-1880 English transferware eras... pumping along the design timeline to garner Victorian ‘china’ (Ironstone and European ‘hand painted porcelain’)... and pumping on to... “worse”, newer “cereal box” grade china to ... tacky... World War One... ish... “CHINA” dinner “SETS”... et al... with ONE OTHER TIME ZONE... included too... but

            THAT was THE... “OLDER” “CHINA”;  the broken fragment china ‘survivors’ from... and used by... this family “in the eighteenth century”.  “You missed that stuff?”  The unknowing clean outers always do... “miss that” unless the ‘they’ ‘know’ ‘early’.  I do... and did then... know.  So... for  example, I found an English polychrome Delft plate (c. 1760) (tin glazed earthenware hand paint decorated... but) long ago broken in half and brass ‘staple’ repaired... a long time ago TOO... and a second one... ‘staple repaired’ too.  AND a thing or two more of “THAT EARLY” “OLD CHINA”.

            What does that this mean?  It means that ...within the estate... when the estate was active... SOMEONE ‘in there’ “KNEW” and “CARED” about that family’s surviving “EARLY CHINA” and... ‘collected’ if only to “preserve” that “IT”.  The short answer?

            The sugar bowl... I found... ‘in there’

            Was a “THAT TOO”.  But... ah... I was a little... new to ‘this’... then.  And so are you now?

            Yes.  Perhaps though... the subliminal message is seeking you?  The Old (broken) (single inclusion) Dark Blue (sugar bowl) is messaging.  Sort of faintly somehow... in Old New England?  YOUR Old New England... of the inner old New England you... you feel:  “THINK” you “FEEL”? through an old broken sugar bowl.

            What?

            Why?

            Why is what-why and what and a why

            About all of this ‘any of this’ anyway?

            Why?  Because... the OTHER stuff is phony and the ‘this’ is not phony.  It; The Old Dark Blue busted sugar bowls “IN THERE” (the Old New England Homes) tell a (the) real story of Old New England.  I already told you this is ‘telling’.  That story IS Old New England.  To this day.  It is a ‘now’ story too... and the old broken sugar bowls are here, in abundance... to prove it.  NOW...

            In abundance.  I just said that there are Old New England estate found relic condition The Old Dark Blue broken sugar bowls... in abundance now.  I... have been ‘finding them’; retrieving survivors from their castaway preservation within the old New England homes for... fifty years.  Yep... Me... THAT; a ‘rescue’.  All the time.  For decades.  I have plenty around right now.  I like them.  And their ‘around’.  It keeps my head clear... of all “the OTHER stuff is phony”.  They remind me... always... of ‘what is this all about

            Anyway.

            So NOW that we have discerned the ‘relic’ of The Old Dark Blue in The Old New England... including finding ‘one of these’ at local thrift stores for a dollar ...unless that same thrift store threw it out because they “too broken” and... “don’t know”.  Oddly... those old girls at the church thrifts DO KNOW and DO CARE and do “price high” for JUST THE REASONS I’ve written down; they DO KNOW what this is all about

            Anyway.

            So I am going to have to expand on the ‘back there’ of the ‘do know’.

            This is about sophistication of taste.  Good taste... bad taste... old New England taste.

            If anyone has this right... and are not phony... it is the old girls at the ...Old New England ...thrift stores.

Why Is "The Old Dark Blue" The "Old Dark Blue" in Old New England - Part One - "All About Anyway"

Why Is "The Old Dark Blue"

The

"Old Dark Blue"

in

Old New England

Part One

"All About Anyway"

            If you have read the title of this note (blog post) then... you know more of... and about... this topic than the vast... “rest of them” including the ‘in New England’.  And... from reading the title... you now know ‘something’ about old New England “china” too.  It is a ‘JUST a LITTLE’... ‘know something’.

            But that’s enough for a ‘your start’.

            I know all about it (‘The Old Dark Blue’ in ‘The Old New England’).  I had an early start so let me start you back there and... come along from back there... and then too... you may come along.  Again: the subject is “The Old Dark Blue” in “The Old New England”.  Don’t worry:  Some people already know EXACTLY what I am writing about.

            When I was six... or five... but probably not four... I would walk up to the end of a street... that was “up past” The Common... in my (Maine, New England) village.  I walked with my Grandmother... every day, at early evening... all year round including the winter season.  It was not a ‘long’ walk or a ‘hard’ walk.  We, together, would just walk... “up and back”.  That was it.  Sometimes we’d talk.  Sometimes we wouldn’t.  We didn’t have any dog on a leash or something like that.  I suppose I was the ‘dog’ on the ‘leash’.  I’m not sure because I never ran off; the ‘a leash’ never ‘got tight’.

            After about two or three years of this walk; one day... ‘starting back’ at the end of the street where we always ‘turned around’... we were walking back

            Past a house that was then (late fall) “closed up” and “IS BEING SOLD”.  Too.  The former happened to all houses that were ‘summer places’ of the owners (the house’s “PEOPLE”).  The latter is what happened to these houses after the ‘people’ (owners) “died off”.  So what was happening at this house right then was “NOT” unusual; the house was ‘closed up’ and ‘being sold’.  So we would ‘walk by” that house during all this ...too.  My grandmother would call all of this a “we walked by the **** place”.

            “Oh.  They’re selling that you know.”

            “Yes.  I wonder what will happen to it.”  My grandmother would say.

            Well... she knew damn well what was going to happen “to the place” but never told me any of that.  She knew “the **** place” was going to be ‘cleaned out’ and SHE would be the one doing that cleaning out if SHE had anything to... well... very few ever ‘beat her’ on this; cleaning out... old houses.  But she never told me that.  Either.  I just walked up and down the sidewalk beside the street with her.  Then... the one late fall afternoon... when this place was closed up and being sold... and we were walking by... my grandmother left our usual sidewalk trail and skirted (literally in her skirt) across the front yard of the ‘closed up’ and ‘being sold’ ‘place’ to the ...front screened-in porch surrounding the front door.  She peered through the screening for a few minutes adjusting her view ever toward the left side where ‘the door to the porch’ was (on the left side).  I didn’t care what she was doing and saw nothing of interest to me at all... but ...trailed along behind her.  She was looking IN the screened-in porch but I was too small to do that.  Too.

            When we reached the front end at the left, where the porch went ‘back to the house’ and ‘had the door’... my Grandmother... peeked along that screen work too until she came to the screen door... that was latched from the inside; ‘closed’.  She peeked... then peered... ‘in’ there too.  Then she looked down at me... loyally standing next to her.  I looked up at her.  Her right foot went forward and kicked the lower right rectangle of the screen door and... there was there... a screen section that was very loose... while the other sections of the door were not loose... because this section was used ‘by their dog’ to ‘go in and out’ from the porch to pursue and ‘bark at’ people walking by on the sidewalk... ‘during the summer’.  We both knew this because we, too, endured these ‘go in and out’ “all summer” “bark at” of the ‘their dog’.

            My grandmother, after looking at me and kicking the loose screen, turned her view back upon the inside of the screened porch.  She said to me... jabbing her finger at the upper screen to emphasize that she spoke about INSIDE the porch... “GO (crawl through the dog’s screen door hole) in there and fetch me that pot in there; that BLUE one.” Then she turned and walked off back to and ‘down’ the sidewalk along the street.

            I could see the blue pot she ‘wanted me to get’.  It was ‘in there’ (the porch)... on a table.  Dirty.  A dirty blue pot on a dirty old table with some dead and dirty old ‘plants in pots’ too.  I could see it.  NO PROBLEM.  So I went in the dog’s door and ‘fetched it’ like I was told too.  And came back out the dog’s door.  And followed rapidly after my grandmother who was ‘pretty far down’ the street ‘already’.  I scampered after her... clutching the blue pot.  As I caught up to her... I actually... and I remember this concisely... looked at the blue pot:  I remember this clearly... looking at it... as I scampered.  It... was the old blue pot that my Grandmother told me to ‘fetch’ for her.  I did that and am now remembering looking at it and, superficially, wondering ‘what is it?’.  Well... I know now what it was (is). This was the first time that I ‘know’ I ‘saw’ and ‘handled’... “The Old Dark Blue”.  My grandmother was no idiot when it came to ‘fetching’.

            Exactly what the ‘blue pot’ was (is)... IS... A...

            Sugar bowl bottom missing its top (lid).  An Old Dark Blue... sugar bowl bottom... with old chips at all edges, broken and ‘old glued’ handles, old wandering spider web darkened ‘hairline’ ‘cracks’ and actual holes letting light in and leaking a contents out...:  An Old Dark Blue American Historical Staffordshire (earthenware) (“soft paste”) transferware “china” sugar bowl with a decorative historic scene showing “General” Lafayette visiting Benjamin Franklin’s “tomb” and reclining there amid the foliage and self reflections of his... for his... old friend.  In 1824.  This is a well known (“common”) (American Historical) “SCENE” to “collectors”

            “OF THIS” (The Old Dark Blue).

            I do not remember caring a hoot about the ‘that’ of ‘WHAT” “IT” “IS”.  But... I handed “IT” off to my grandmother and

            NEVER, ever, have ‘forgotten’ “IT”.

            My Grandmother gave “IT” a courtesy look while gripping this old blue pot with one hand.  Then... the pot disappeared from my sight for, well... maybe as long as a decade.   Yes:  Ten years.  Oh... it was ‘around’ in my Grandmother’s “STUFF” but I did not... handle and examine... “IT”

            For ten years.  Probably.  Did she know ‘what it is’?

            SHE absolutely KNEW exactly... when she saw it through the screen at the porch.  She had, I know now, “spied it” well before I went in the dog door.  All that... was just a need to “act”.  What she did... and asked me to do... is ...calmly... referred to as ‘a rescue’.  It is a “done” when that is the best way to... rescue... an antique from ‘being lost or destroyed.  If that is new to you... I advise that after a half century of ‘doing them’ it becomes ‘a nothing’ and a ‘right thing to do’ with ‘everyone’ (antiquarians) knowing about “HAVING” to “DO THIS”.

            Yes... that’s a way of looking at old china... isn’t it.  And yes it is a ‘deeper than that’ ... as the reader may be sensing... TOO.  That’s why I’m writing this down for you:  IT IS a ‘deeper’; this Old Dark Blue... Staffordshire... china... in Old New England.

            I... when I creeped out the dog’s door... had become... smitten... forever “WITH” The Old Dark Blue.  I did not know this for ‘at least’ ten years.  But when I found out I had “NO PROBLEM” being that; an Old Dark Blue Smitten.  My grandmother was a ‘long ago before you were born’ smitten.  She told me that... probably twenty-five years after the dog’s door creep.  My mother was smitten too.

            With the Old Dark Blue.

            What I have said (through my years at this) to the... any party’s inquiry... is that, simply, if one starts out with the old dark blue the way I did (creeping through a dog’s door)... you never forget ‘IT’ at all... ever... every time you see it anywhere ever no matter what and

            One tends to be around other people who know all about this too.  All about WHAT?

            All about ‘broken’ ‘old’ ‘china’ from the New England Federal settlement era; especially the Old... Dark... Blue

;            And its heritage in Old New England.  Heritage?  That is, for example, how my grandmother gripped the old sugar bowl bottom with her one hand when she... took it away from me.  And any behavior like that silent gripping.  She never told me any of this.  I had to find out for myself.  And I did.  IF... THEN... you want the ‘you will too’... you will too... have to do it... that way.  You will also... once you start on the ...Old Dark Blue... in Old New England... gather fellow travelers about you... soon enough.  

            I did not “start” or ‘know’ anything about this for ten years after my ‘first piece’ of Old Dark Blue.  And that was not even ‘my piece’.  It was my grandmother’s:  SHE FOUND IT.  It was over ten years before I “FOUND” my “FIRST PIECE”.  And started to learn and understand what this (the old dark blue heritage) is

            All about

            Anyway.

The Eggnog

The Eggnog

            “I was worried about getting either run through or

            Run over.  It’s always that way for me at Christmas holidays.

            Days they are.  Not just one day and sidestep that.  No.  Days of it.

            Punctual.

            Sensible.

            Days of it.

            Then it’s over.

            And I suppose I can get back to it.  All the antiques, of course, are still right there.  They have the Patience of Job you know.  Nothing changes them during the holidays.  Their timeline is complete.  And they sit in the big shadow.  No one notices.  After a while one of them comes along and picks one off; an antique.  And then it starts again; the antiques business.  A collector comes by and won’t shut up.  Doesn’t buy anything.  Just won’t shut up.  Another one brings by some cookies his wife made.  Christmas cookies.  Late.  Already stale.  I’m suppose to put a tree up with lights on it for that?  Some old fashion eggnog.  Real eggnog?  ‘MADE eggnog’?  Wouldn’t they like me to say that.  Of course they’d rather just drink (the whiskey) from the bottle.  No one wants raw egg in their whiskey these days.

            I’m punctual.  During the holidays.  Not early.  Not late.  Sort of around.  But maybe not.  If your looking for me I may not

            Look back.

            Who cares?  Your not doing anything worthy any way.  NOT LOOKING at the spine ends and noticing the head of the spines are NOT frayed.  Torn off.  From finger pulling... imbeciles.

            That is it you know:  Go find them:  Perfect firsts (first editions) with the spine heads NOT frayed.  Only collectors know what I’m talking about:  ‘Spine heads’.  ‘Frayed’.  From your fingers.  You’d think you’d LEARN something over the DECADES you’ve ‘miscellany’ pulled the ‘old books’ you call them OFF the shelves by their

            Spine heads.  That’s WHY they are always frayed.  Because of you.  And the whiskey in your eggnog that you... didn’t MAKE.

            See?

            It is all linked BACK to spine ends.  And your fingers that you have NO SENSE

            Of control

            Of.

            I went to the Bronte exhibit at the Morgan (library NYC).  JUST went there.  Really a lot of people there too.  Didn’t expect that.  Women viewing.  Some men too but a lot of women.  Securitizing it; the exhibit.  Don’t want to touch that too much.  It was all fine and well; the exhibit.  Looked like they’d gone up in Charlotte’s attic and gathered up the old books and papers scattered on the floor.  Put them in glass cases and

            Explained them.  Nice enough at that.  You know.  But the spine ends.  No one was noticing those.  Absolutely perfect copies.  No rebacking.  No spines laid down.  NO CHIPS at the spine head.  NO FINGERS PULLING

            Ever.

            What a relief.

            And NOT an accident.  Morgan knew all about this.  And collector ‘best’ copies.  That’s how you know its all NOT from an attic FLOOR.  It’s all collector grade.  REAL collector grade... where it is just THERE... PERFECT and... nothing is said about THAT.              Only an imbecile pulls those books off the shelf by their spine head.  Only IDIOTS don’t know that; notice THAT... too.

            Oh I’m sorry about all that.  Lost you.  Right?  You don’t need to worry about all that.  It’s still the holidays.  Have some of my eggnog.  I made it myself.  REAL bourbon.  The bottles in that chair.  Under the throw.  It’s Christmas

            You know.

            When you get back from your holidays... don’t just poke along this year.  I mean really.  Do something about; your poking.  I know:  Poking.  Your good at it.  Really try though.  I mean think of it;  having something that actually IS something... this year.  Not just a fudge that you show off to me.  A ‘something I bought’ that you want your forehead patted and me to say ‘good dog’.  You did that last year.  Let’s not do it again this year.  Come back this year WITH something.  An actual something.  I realize that’s asking a lot.  But maybe you’ll lift the tedium of

            Your birth

            That’s not very nice to say is it.  It must be the eggnog.  Too many SIPS of THAT.

            Right?

            What if I showed you something good this year and you actually bought it.  Not necessarily a rare book but... maybe... a good ‘real antique’.  One where people who know say ‘Oh look at THAT’... to themselves.  And are surprised that you did that.  So surprised that they ‘don’t know’.  Could have been something THEY’D buy.  That kind of antiques.  A ‘stopper’.  Of course an old book would be even MORE.  No one... but a someone would...

            Ever know

            THAT; you’d bought a rare book

            Collector grade.

            Of course you’d have to know what one of those is.

            Right?

            And then come back on that like a grownup:  How to

            Solve that problem.

            That’s easy to do.  Actually.  Just BUY a real rare book from someone who knows and

            Handle that book

            Everyday

            Until it begins to seem to make some sort of sense to you.  And then do that again.           

            A few times over and over.  And see how it goes for you.  See if you ‘make friends’ with the old books

            In ‘collector grade’ condition.  Yes:  Spine ends.  You know all about them NOW.  Makes complete sense.  And they are rare too... on a true rare book.  Perfect spine ends on an old book does not mean that that book

            Is a rare book.

            It has to be a rare book; a desirable book... with perfect spine ends.  NOT just any old book.  With perfect spine ends.  Plenty of THOSE around; not rare books no one reads with... therefore... perfect spine ends.  Never pulled from a shelf.  And read.

            No:  Bring me something really truly rare with perfect... spine ends

            Or don’t bother.

            I didn’t bother to make eggnog for you either.

            Your wife’s Christmas cookies are stale.

            And your out poking around again.  Don’t know what it’s gonna be THIS YEAR.

            Do you.

            But ‘give it a good poke’ won’t you.

            OH come on right in and SIT DOWN and TELL how it’s STARTED FOR YOU.              Right off, you say, you found a poke and want me to LOOK at it do you?  Oh go get it.  IN THE CAR you say.  So shrewd of you; keeping it SAFE there.  Good.  Go get it.  Show me.

            Yes.  There we go:  The year begins.  It’s ‘after’ the holidays NOW.  So much easier; the regular crowd.  The regular GRIND.  OH look what

            Did you find!

            Oh that is a FIND.

            Quite a FIND.

            INDEED.”