Saturday, October 30, 2010

filling the house up with junk, or collections, you decide

I like stuff a lot.  
I think I have stated here a number of times how I am far from a minimalist.  I am perhaps a maxamalist, if such a thing exists.  I sometimes feel a little defensive about my love of stuff, of collecting- living in a progressive town like Portland, with a zenned out hippie around every corner, one sometimes grows weary and even a little cranky at the whole minimalist aesthetic you find.    I also work in a setting where there is a very rigid notion of what is beautiful and what is not. 
When I come home, I want to luxuriate in my packed little domain, in my piles of old stuff.  It makes me happy and secure.   I am a happy packrat.

Thank goodness I have a whole host of enablers all around me providing me with fuel for my fire!

Rolf is a chemist, so we have a lot of scientific glassware lying around, so recently I started putting little decorative things into the various  glass containers sitting in the  he basement

I have no idea what their real purpose is. 

The ones with the funny little horns are some kind of vacuum, I know that much. 

I have chosen to fill  one it with an old school Deutsche Mark and the other with a Lira, because the artwork on these bills is beautiful and I have nothing better to do with them, now that the Euro is king.  

I also have a little ceramic bust of my dearly departed poodle Teddy Braun, inside what I believe is some other type of vacuum. 
The columns and flasks are filled with colored water.
The Frigidaire Flair!
1968 Japanese mug

In addition to liking random cool stuff, like scientific glassware, there is my well documented love of mid century pottery and ceramics, not to mention vintage appliances. 
I found this fabulous little mug, in my color scheme at Goodwill last week, for $00.99 and it made me deliriously happy for days.  I am working hard to find a replacement for our "Flair" stove, but if I can't find a good one, I now know there is a man in his late 80's in St. Helens that could repair mine.  Transporting a 350# stove to St. Helens in my station wagon might pose a problem though...


  1. I TOLD you there was someone selling a Flair for $150 and you ignored me - presumably because your brilliantly parsimonious nature wouldn't allow you to pay such an outrageous price for something you already have. But I did *tell* you.

  2. Hallie! it was the wrong kind of flair, it was the smaller version, and it wouldn't fit in our built in space. We have the double oven one, that is harder to find. I called that woman in hopes that is might be wider, but alas it was wayyyy too narrow.