Minnesota Prairie Roots

MENTION THE WORD “vintage” and I’m all in. Perhaps it’s my age. But probably not. I’ve always preferred the stuff of yesteryear to the stuff of today. For that reason, I am drawn to shops, garage sales and other places selling antiques, primitives, collectibles, second hand and vintage.

This time of year, especially, “old” is out there, including in Cannon City, where Debbie Glende, aka The Crabby Wren, opens her outbuildings for occasional seasonal sales. Her holiday market, “Vintage Christmas in the Barn,” is no longer open. But it got me thinking about how much I appreciate the goods of yesteryear. And how this old stuff can make an ideal Christmas gift. It’s even a bit trendy now, especially with the younger generation, to shop thrift stores. Repurpose, reuse and keep stuff out of the landfill.

I’ve been doing this for a long time. Buying used, using goods passed down to me from family, even gifting second hand. And, yes, I save and reuse gift bags, tissue paper, ribbons and bows and recycle greeting cards as gift tags, all to the ridicule of my siblings. Let ’em laugh. Mom would be proud that I’m following her thrifty example.

If you were to step into my home, you would find lots of vintage. I have collections of vintage glassware, which I use daily; vintage tablecloths, pulled out whenever I have dinner guests; and vintage art (including paint-by-number), displayed throughout my home.

And then there’s my vinyl collection including a recording of a young Michael Jackson of The Jackson 5 singing “I’ll Be There” in a high-pitched voice. I got that record as a Christmas gift in 1970. Likewise my vinyl of heartthrob David Cassidy making his case in “I Think I Love You” with The Partridge Family. I can still belt out the words as that love song blasts on a garage sale turntable. And not to be forgotten, Minnesota native Bob Dylan with his ballad “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” That’s especially timely with the Christmas release of “A Complete Unknown,” a movie about Dylan. Yes, I like vintage.

My dining room table, of unknown vintage, came from George and Clara’s home, purchased at George’s farm auction after he passed. The couple lived a few sections over from my childhood home near Vesta. For the past four decades plus, my family has gathered around that large oval wooden table with the graceful, curved legs. We’ve shared thousands of meals, talked and laughed and, yes, even cried. Kids did their homework there. Grandkids drew. Tabletop dings mark memories.

Perhaps that’s the appeal of vintage. The memories. Vintage connects me to my past or to loved ones. When I drink from textured amber glasses, I think of my mom. The glasses were purchased at Marquardt’s Hardware Store in Vesta as a Mother’s Day gift for her sometime in the 1960s. They are a tactile reminder of Mom, who died in January 2022.

The handcrafted pinecone Christmas tree, which my beloved Aunt Rachel made for my mom in the 1960s, now hangs in my home each December. In the dining room, within view when dining at George and Clara’s table.

Atop a vintage chest of drawers (one my dad and his older brother used as children) in my living room, six plastic angels gather as part of the Shiny Brite Christmas Angel Band. My brother Doug and I bought the tiny figurines for Mom at a hardware store in Echo. A Christmas gift sometime in the 1960s.

Vintage. Whether viewed inside or outside a barn in Cannon City, in my home or in a local shop, these goods of bygone days spark memories, ignite joy, remind me of the passage of time. Will my adult children or grandkids care about any of this after I’m gone? Maybe. But I expect they will wonder why Mom/Grandma kept all this old stuff. Perhaps they will choose a piece or two to keep as a memory of me. And then they will box up the rest, wondering who the heck David Cassidy is and why I needed all those vintage tablecloths and drinking glasses and what’s with this pinecone Christmas tree?

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling