The Old Man
Today we picked up all the tile for our backsplash, including all the supplies and a small saw for making cuts. Tomorrow we will start tiling. Today, however, we made a trip to Marine City for a special purchase for the new kitchen.
Well over a year ago, on one of our antiquing jaunts, we spotted this guy in an antique store:
After we left, we kept thinking about that picture, where we might put it, and how much we loved that enigmatic smile. An old man, enjoying his whiskey and cigar, living in the moment, whatever moment that was, probably a hundred years ago. Something about it just spoke to us, made us smile.
A year later, we visited the same antique store, and there he was, hanging on an old shutter with a couple of old hats and a moth eaten marionette. A paper price tag was stuck to the wavy glass. It had a price, and the obvious words, “very old.” We made a low offer, were refused, and left, feeling that somehow, we were leaving behind a friend.
When mr husband suggested we re-do the kitchen rather than leave Claymire, we started making a list of what would go in the new space, what we wanted it to look and feel like. We chose the cabinets, the countertops, and then, out of the blue, it came to me: the photo of that man drinking whiskey – we HAD to have him in our new kitchen.
So today we picked up our tile, and drove the 40 or so miles north to Marine City, to see if he was still there. He was there, smiling like he was waiting for us to join him in a drink, which we would gladly have done. I grabbed him off that weathered shutter, casually set aside the hats and the marionette. He still bore that price tag, “very old, $78.” We didn’t quibble this time, but got 10% off, anyway.
And here he is, smiling from his spot on the wall of our new kitchen, overlooking the table where the whiskey decanter sits (usually) full.