Welcome to My Red Cape. Long ago in another time my husband Jack and I lived in a little old red house. It was the stuff of dreams to us for the few years that we were there. I live there still a number of hours every day in imagination, with old dolls and paintings and fabrics and feather trees. I draw inspiration and happiness from the memories of that space in time and share some of it here with friends who remember how to step with Alice through the looking glass and take delight in whimsies and antiquities. ~Edyth O’Neill

Friday, May 6, 2011

What is so fair as a day in May...


May 8th marks six years since our farm home burned and our lives were changed so abruptly. So much I could say about that, but really I do not replay it again and again in my mind the way I did for the first few years. Over five years in our present house and yard have given me roots again. My favorite plants grow in this yard now and pleasant living grows nice memories in this house as we enjoy our family and our pass times. We think of the thousands of other victims of fires and floods and storms and know we are so lucky!

Jack has spent an unbelievable amount of time in his garage/work area, restoring so many things which firemen saved for us. Among the very last to be worked on is a rare and dear little table which stood in his bedroom at the farm house, and had the finish completely charred. This small 18th century New England piece was one of his pets, a graceful and unusual form with cabriole legs and a nice overhang and a small drawer. The blackened little table has been in his bedroom here these 5 1/2 years, waiting while we thought about what on earth to do to help it. Now the black surface has been painstakingly scraped away. Putting a coat of paint on something like this takes huge courage. Nothing can restore the old finish, it is gone forever, but the little table deserves to have another 250 years of existence.

We have chosen a strong turquoise blue, the blue green we remember on a spectacular small table once in the possession of our collector friends Austin and Virginia Smith of Kentucky. That one was a fabulous example of great original paint, in a day and time when so much furniture was being stripped by ignorant collectors. Virginia recounted how she asked a friend if she should strip off the paint and he replied with emphatic horror "my Gawd, I wouldn't even DUST it!" E

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