My Mother and Aunt Marie used to go to the antique auctions when I was little.
After dinner dishes were done, she would race off with a smile, high hopes written all over her face.
A 1920s blue glass beaded evening bag-
An oak dresser with a swivel mirror for $35-
Grey freckled tinware-
And a trumpet was one of the won bids I can recall.
Especially the trumpet.
My Mother used it as our alarm clock…
“da da ta a ta dum da ta da da ta dum!” She would toot to wake up my four brothers and me. The sound was too raw for the morning light- sleep was out of the question.
It was not the blast of the trumpet that struck my heart because I loved to find old things. It was the joy I saw on my Mother’s face when she came home late at night with her arms carrying her latest acquisition.
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SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS earliest memory
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photo: An 18th century engraving, that I bought in an antique shop, in Aix en Provence. Where does cupid point his arrow in your life?
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