Object of Affection: NC Pennant

I am a huge fan of kitschy travel memorabilia, but I didn't have to travel too far to find this vintage NC pennant. This little treasure came from one of my favorite Charlotte antique shops, Fifteen Ten Antiques on Central Avenue. As a NC native, this keepsake tugs at my heartstrings. I imagine someone picking it up on their vacation to Kitty Hawk or on a tour of college campuses around the state. I love it for its bright colors (that coral pink is one of my all-time favs) and its adorably retro illustrations of North Carolina landmarks and tourists. This pennant has a home on the wall by my sewing machine.

Top 30

Earlier this year, Paul and I were at our friends' house making dinner together. The meal included avocados, which I loooove. I scooped up a big mouthful of guacamole with a chip and exclaimed, "Mmmm, avocados! Definitely one of my top 30 things in the world." Everyone kind of stared, wide-mouthed, with responses ranging from, "What?! In the WORLD? to "Where in the top 30?" to "You have a top 30?" 


This is something I've always kind of thought about, but it definitely sparked a conversation that night and made us all seriously think about what our Top 30 would be.... to the point that some of us actually got out a pen and paper. I don't think anyone has finished their list yet, and I think it probably should be something that's in constant revision. But I think making a Top 30 is a wonderful exercise in gratitude; to recognize how much something means to you helps you to continually acknowledge it in your everyday life. You know that you're doing/eating/seeing something truly special and worth savoring when it's on your Top 30, and it makes you appreciate it a little bit more. So what's on your Top 30? Here's what I have on mine so far, in no particular order... avocados no longer included... Ha! (Click to enlarge.)

P.S. We have decided since then that anything that can reciprocate love doesn't count, so that means no friends or family or pets. That would just be way to easy...

Object of Affection: Granny's Pill Box

This pill box used to sit on one of the end tables in Aileen's formal living room, and I remember tiptoeing in there to rub my fingers over the flowers in the dark. I loved feeling the smoothness of each rounded petal, like the prettiest Braille. My imagination was taken with the beautiful, bright colors too, and I thought that it was one of the most special things that Aileen or Granny had in the house. It was the tiniest little trinket. To me, it was delicate and lovely, and I don't remember ever picking it up off the table to hold in my hands. I just ran my fingers across it in the secrecy of the dark.

I still hold the flowered pillbox near and dear, and it now sits on a small shelf in my sewing room. Every time I touch it, it reminds me of my Granny, and I remember being little again, peering over the edge of the end table in the dark.

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"Objects of Affection" is a series of blog posts that allows me to  share some of my favorite and most special things with you. I'll pick something different from around my home each time and tell you a bit about it. I think photographing and writing about these objects are a way to help me appreciate all the things around me and to reflect on the meaning they hold for me. It's nice to linger over these little things in our lives.

Object of Affection

I've decided that I'm going to start a new series on my blog, entitled "Object of Affection," so that I can share some of my favorite and most special things with you. Once each month, I'll pick something different from around my home and tell you a bit about it. I thought about doing this as we rearranged our house and set up my sewing room, and I had the chance to linger over all my little doo-dads and consider them as I decided where their new home would be. I think photographing and writing about these objects are a way to help me appreciate all the things around me and to reflect on the meaning they hold for me.

Object of Affection: Nature Bowl

I found this little bowl at the thrift store and, for a year and a half, have been filling it with things from my walks, hikes, travels, and time spent in the yard. I love the way the natural colors look against its burnished gold. Some of these things I've had longer than the past year and a half, but have just given them a cozy little home inside this bowl. I collected the fall leaves on campus my freshman year at college. And the shell that is scarred by scratches and tiny holes came from a trip with my friend, Shanna, to Charleston and Savannah that same year. I love how it looks decomposed, like an old bone.

There are some things I no longer can recall the origin of. I've collected countless acorns, picking them from the ground when they are ripe with their shocking chartreuse and contrasting cap. But they always darken to brown and lose their brightness. And, since I was a little girl, I have been able to spot four-leaf clovers as easily as a blade of grass. Sometimes I see one in a flash, out of the corner of my eye, while I'm walking and will retrace my steps to pick it. It's a strange ability to have.

Mostly, though, I like the collection of these objects, how they all look together - one tiny bowl full of nature, representing different landscapes and all of its seasons. I love the way their textures and colors combine and contrast and speak to one another. 

I use these little bits as inspiration for new animal creations; it helps their personalities come to life. It helps me imagine them in their habitats, and I can see them interacting with these acorns, rocks, and clovers, scampering over them, collecting them for their own homes. Sometimes, there is a whole other world alive inside my head.

finding Granny in the pin box

I just opened a box of straight pins to find that they smelled like my Granny. Even though my great-grandma (Granny), great-grandpa (Papa), and grandma (Aileen) lived together the entire time I was growing up, to me this smell brings back memories of her. It brought back days spent at their house - summers, afternoons after school - sitting at the sewing machine in Aileen's bedroom (I call her by her name, though when I was really little, it was "Ateen."), learning how to thread a bobbin or make a pillow or working on a project from my middle school home-ec class. Granny used to make a lot of what she wore, and as far back as my memory stretches, this was usually housecoats. Even during the winter, she would putter around the house in those cotton and polyester frocks, with nothing underneath but underwear and thin socks pulled over her ankles. I know, before me, she used to spend more time at the sewing machine. Photos seem to be proof of this.

Now, in my house about 45 minutes outside of where I grew up, I am surrounded by all of her sewing things - the old wooden Singer with the wrought iron peddle; her sewing box that's now filled with brooches, many of which were also hers; thimbles, needles, pincushions, seam rippers, and little boxes overflowing with all sorts of sewing treasures. Using these things makes me feel that I'm still connected to her, that I am carrying on a piece of her life, doing something she would understand and be proud of. This feeling - and that smell in the pin box - is such a comfort to me.

Next to the pin box are two flowers Granny crocheted. I have several more of these, and for a long time, I've been wanting to figure out how to make some like it. My friend Shanna and I went to Granny's house for a lesson one summer during high school, but she absolutely couldn't remember what she did to make them! There is still some hope, though - my friend and fellow fibers artist, Melissa Terry, is trying to decipher the stitch pattern. I have my fingers crossed!