Great-Grandfather’s Spittoon

Perfectly imperfect piece on the mantel.

As we’ve been settling into our bungalow, my parents have been clearing some things out. They live in the house that my father and grandmother both grew in. Although many pieces have been handed off to other family members at my grandparents’ passing, there is still much family history in that old farmhouse. As my parents work through their stuff, we’ve been the beneficiaries of this decluttering. They’ve already given us an old worktable that will sit at the center of my workroom, and we’re picking up a hand-me-down dining room table and chairs tomorrow. When we popped by recently, in addition to a flat of gorgeous tomatoes, they gave me my father’s grandfather’s spittoon. I love the patina on it. It only got a good dusting before making its way onto our mantel, where it sits next to the tray on which we burn incense in the afternoon. It might hold a house plant in the future, if I find the right one. Right now, though, it’s perfect.