Old White Ironstone.
The Holy Grail of pottery. I love it, and I bet you do, too.
I don't have what anyone could dignify with the name collection,
but I do have some neat old pieces, including three great big pitchers that I think of as . . .
Patty, Maxine, and Laverne.
These are Amazons, these gals, 12 inches or taller. All the other pitchers in That Old House are afraid of them. |
| Two were my Mom's, as she was loopy over ironstone and passed that on to me. The tall svelte number on the left, with the interesting panelled sides, was a gift from my in-laws. |
Almost as good as white is red.
Hint: Go to Macy's in the days after Christmas and you will find the most amazing bargains.
Really, go. Bring your wallet. Don't necessarily bring your husband unless he's the philosophical sort, like mine.
That's where I got this Fitz & Floyd tureen, and I hope my sister-in-law Doris doesn't read
the blog because I got one for her, too, and now she knows I'm cheap.
Doris, it was hideously expensive, and Howard and I couldn't afford to eat meat for 3 weeks afterward.
At last year's Visiting Nurse's Association Sale, I picked up a 30-year old piece of ruby flash glass.
Shopping alert: the Fall VNA Sale is the first weekend in October.
All the cool kids will be there.
Anyway, I loved this piece, but realized I wasn't using it.
So, I listed it on Etsy, and it now is living in splendor in the home of a ruby glass collector
who lives in Greece. Yes, this compote has flown really far from the nest!
I have to admit, I kind of miss it now it's gone. But I picture it basking on a
rocky Mediterranean beach, sipping Ouzo and eating grapes, and I am satisfied that it has found its bliss.
She's got the most darling Grant Wood portrait of a young boy featured today.
Her old white enamel ware pitcher is full of her garden flowers!
I have an identical pitcher with a matching bowl, but they're rusting outside. Oh dear.
Happy mid-week blogging to all -- Cass
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