Thanksgiving - It's not about the bird!

     As our yearly Thanksgiving Day traditions begin to take shape, and plans are made to celebrate the Holiday with family and friends, it's natural for us to  focus on what we are thankful for and consider ways that we might be able to reach out to those less fortunate than ourselves.

Life is But a Dream....

  I know that sometimes life can seem more like a nightmare than a dream....we all have those days, weeks, and sometimes longer when daily life becomes a real challenge.  As the saying goes... 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger', and I know some folks that must be extremely strong by now. 

Once Upon A Decanter

My dad was a bartender. That wasn't his primary job, as he worked for Phillips Petroleum for over 30 years on the pipeline; but he would be more apt to tell you he was a bartender...it was kinda in his blood. Growing up we didn't get to see him a lot, because he was always working, so it would be a real treat when on a snowy winter afternoon
he might pick us up after school because he got off work early due to the weather. It wouldn't be uncommon for him to go home on a day like that and bake two or three fruit pies before mom got home from work. He was an amazing cook .....among other things. Growing up in a large family of nine kids, he could cook, sew, or build anything...and do it well!

Dad started collecting liquor decanters back in the mid sixties, when the distilleries thought they weren't selling enough alcohol, so started producing the decanters as a way to sell more.. The idea was proliferated that the bottles would become more valuable if the seal was not broke, which just even increased sales of liquor even more.  The decanters were fairly expensive new, but considered somewhat of an investment since they were expected to at least double or triple in value over the next 20 years.  The distilleries would continually come out with new series's of decanters or celebrity decanters where they would advertise that they would break the mold after so many were produced to increase the value even more.  What they didn't tell the collectors was that the liquor inside would not be good after about 12 to 18 months as ceramic isn't a good container for alcohol... So what you ended up with was a lot of collectors with a lot of decanters that were sealed full of undrinkable alcohol....while the distilleries and companies producing the decanters raked in the dough. What a hoax!

My dad's collection created quite a fire hazard in our house, but of course that wasn't given alot of thought back then. One spark and we could have had a heck of a bond fire! Funny, but I can look at almost any one of his decanters and recall when he brought it home. It was always fun to see what the latest addition to the collection would be. Now that dad is gone, it's time to distribute the collection to other collectors across the country, which would be more difficult if it weren't for Ebay and Etsy. Selling the decanters seems like a reverse of the initial collection process as I wait eagerly to see which decanter will sell next and pack it up to send to it's new home. If dad were still here I think he would enjoy this redistribution process. Now the decanters are sold empty...and to a different sort of collector. Not so much as an investment these days, but as an addition to personal collections of every variety. There are those that may buy football decanters to add to their sports collection; or someone may collect only the decanters that represent the states, or whatever their interest may be. There are so many different interests represented by decanters that the reason why one might sell over another can be difficult to determine. All I know if that for me, this process of researching and selling my dad's collection has instilled in me a lot of the same passion he had when he was collecting them, and has brought back many good memories of those days with him.

My Ebay Store
My Etsy Store

The Bee-Gals

A Family of Collectors

   

When I was a kid growing up in a small town in central Illinois in the 60's, there wasn't a lot of choices for things to do on Friday and Saturday night. I don't remember being bored though, because in those days it wasn't necessary to be constantly entertained. Most Friday nights were spent at the skating rink, and for me that was a world I could get lost in. I was a skinny, homely little girl and quite aware of it....so for me skating became somewhat of an escape; something I could do well enough and at times fast enough that I could almost leave that skinny, awkward little ugly girl behind...at least for a little while...at least in my mind.
    On Saturday night, we would often