I have placed this vase amongst some of my precious objects: my moon gazing hare (a 50th birthday present from my family), a photograph of our late dog, Guinness who died in 2005 and a pair of hand crafted blue tits bought for me by MTM from a gallery in Cambridge.
At the other end of this window cill are two empty boxes which used to contain champagne. They were birthday presents from a previous boss, Graham (who I am very fond of). The mock Art Deco tin contains incense sticks which I burn from time to time to mask doggy farts from our current four legged friend, Missy. The carved wooden hands hold juggling balls which one day I am sworn to learn how .... they came with an instruction manual!
But anyway, I have known this orange glass vase for nearly as long as I can remember. My sister, Sandy is two years younger than myself. We lived in a house in a village called Buckden, there used to be a shop there which sold craft stuffs, confectionary and gift items called Knit Knax. We used to be sent there (with a permission note) to buy fags (ten Number 6, please) for my mum and we were sometimes allowed to spend the change on sweeties (on top of our pocket money) as a reward for going.
On a cold day in the winter of 1971/72. this vase in Knit Knax took our fancy. Sandy and I decided it would make a lovely Mothers Day present. It was seventy nine new pence; we didn't have anywhere near enough money to buy it. The lovely shop owner said she would "put it by for us" and we could pay it off bit by bit. Every week, we would put a few pennies towards it, it took weeks, nay MONTHS, for it to finally be paid off. Every penny of our pocket money and the fag money change was precious because paying for the vase meant fewer sweets for us ... but our mum was worth it.
The day we took it home and wrapped it up was very special. It has lived in the family home ever since and consequently, I have known it nearly all of my life. Even many years after I left the family home in Buckden, on every visit back to see mum and dad, it made me smile.
We lost dad earlier this year, mum is finding it very hard to live on her own in the old family home, she really misses having company. Her eyesight isn't good enough to occupy herself with reading or doing craft work so she spends the majority of time listening to the radio and trying to watch TV. She lives for phone calls and visits from us, neighbours and friends. Sometimes she has little holidays for a few days at a time at Sandy and Sharon (my other sister)'s houses and she goes out for meals and days out with my sisters and my brother as and when time and weather allow.
Mum has decided she would prefer to live somewhere smaller in sheltered accommodation, where there are shared facilities like a common room where she can go if she wants company. I am relieved about this as a smaller, more modern flat will have fewer hazards for a partially sighted lady of senior years. In preparation for downsizing, she's sorting out all the things she wants to take with her and giving away some of the others. I was delighted when she gave me the vase (with Sandy's permission) to look after for her.
As I gaze at it filled with chrysanthemums picked from my garden, I ponder the connections I can make to this vase, there are many.
It is made from glass very similar to that which I now use to make the glass beads I sell in my Etsy shop. Here's a recent set of my orange renegade beads (now sold).
It forms a bond with my sister Sandy, she is the sibling I am closest in age to. My brother, David is nine years older and my other sister Sharon is nine years younger so Sandy is the one I shared (and fought) with most.
It is the same colour as these darker orange pots which my mum also gave me (but some time earlier) which belonged to her mother, my maternal grandmother. My mum can remember these sitting on Big Gran's* dressing table when she was a little girl. These days, they live on my mantlepiece. A love of orange glass obviously runs in the family but Sandy and I had no idea of this when we purchased the vase all those years ago!
*We had two grans, one Big Gran and one Little Gran (our paternal grandmother).
The memory of Knit Knax takes me right back to my childhood and my teenage years, growing up travelling to school on the bus with my friends, Cathy Burton and Lauren Crow, going to their houses to play records, going to the Youth Club and school discos with and generally hanging out as friends do. Their parents are gone now but I remember them very fondly as surrogate aunties and uncles.
My dad used to hand out the pocket money, I used to get half a crown a week (or two and six). After decimalisation, some of the old coins were still in circulation, I still got half a crown a week but instead of being worth 2 shillings and 6d, it was now twelve a half new pence.
So this vase embodies a huge chunk of my growing up and also foretells of my future in glass. Is it odd that I think it's a little big magic?