Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

Old Glass

Literally speaking, Anita Shreve wrote Sea Glass; I have old glass, literally…all over the house.

Something about glass enchants me. Maybe it is because glass is liquid originally and maybe as a kid, I watched a bottlemaker blow into the hot liquid to turn it into a vase.

But I am not talking about fancy antique glass like Steuben glass or old lead and flint glass. The few pieces I have of those are tucked into the dining room hutch, and since I am afraid of the lead in them, they just stand there like wallflowers in a dance. The real partiers in my house are cups and saucers and bowls and plates that will be crude antiques give or take another decade.

Tucked in the back of each cupboard and drawer, I find an old piece. Just a while ago, I found a large green bowl I used to use as a secondary punch bowl. This is from the time when anything indoors was in fashionable avocado. That is sixties for the youngsters.

Come to think of it, does anyone serve punch anymore? Anyhow, I think we gave away my real punchbowl with the tiny handled cups hanging from its side when we moved south. Still I sneaked this green oldie, just a sidekick of the real punchbowl, to Florida on the backseat of my car wrapped in tee-shirts.

For old times' sake I gave it a little tap and it answered me with a little thud. Most of the other glass items ring when tapped; this bowl thuds.

Some of the other pieces, mostly see-through glass cups with handles have developed a foggy frost; I call it glass dementia, since it has happened in time probably because of the composition. The Antiques Roadshow people call it sick glass and they say the culprit is calcium. They recommend leaving the glass in a water and vinegar mix. I don’t know if I have the nerve to go that far for commonplace things I have too many of.

My favorite glass pieces are plates and the bone-china mugs. I don't like chipped anything, but I refuse to throw away a mug with the picture of a purple iris on its side and a tiny chip on its lip.

Maybe I have difficulty letting go of old glass because, when I pick up an old piece, I may be looking through the glass to the years past and I may think I see something of a prize.