The first antique I purchased at an auction sale was what the auctioneer called a "farm lamp," which for all intents and purposes was a plain, but tall oil lamp, will a little coal oil still in the reservoir. It cost me twenty bucks and even then I had borrow it off a friend to complete the purchase. I was enormously excited by this modest auction acquisition, which would become the first of many hundreds over the coming thirty years. I haven't attended many auctions in the past decade because, as a business, we have found other more efficient ways of building an inventory at the shop. The problem with auctions is that they are time consuming and we don't have too much of that these days, returning to our six days a week open schedule.
I loved that wonderful old lamp and I would light it every night and benefit very much from the antique glow of historic lighting. It would be the first of hundreds of oil lamps, in all shapes, sizes and ages, that I bought as both a collector and dealer of such antiquities. I alway hated selling off my lamps but such is the profession I'm a part of; and it's hard to be both a collector and then needing to profit from what you acquire. I will confess that those oil lamps in quantity, have got me out of financial trouble a half dozen times, and on at least two of those occasions in a long career, I was left with only several of my best lamps and a lot of open space on my home display case where so many others used to be housed for safe keeping. At the time I needed to sell them to raise a few bucks to pay the rent and buy food, the market for these historic lighting appliances was solid. That was the period from the late 1970's to the early 1990's, when it became obvious there was a seriously decreasing interest in oil fuelled lighting. At this point I had several hundred left over, which has been reduced most recently, as there have been a few more lamp buyers popping up at our shop. Which is pleasing of course, because we need to unload some of the lamps we have stored at Birch Hollow, where there is a premium of space for other family heirlooms we continue to receive.
A spin-off from the old oil lamps, came quite accidentally one day, when I was writing a short historical feature series for the former Herald-Gazette, in Bracebridge, where I worked as a news and feature editor. I just couldn't seem to get started on the piece at my apartment in the former home of Bracebridge doctor, Peter McGibbon, overlooking Manitoba Street's Memorial Park. From the moment I arrived at the house, rented for our newly established antique shop, known then as Old Mill Antiques, I had never once been thwarted from a writing assignment, simply because the very haunted atmosphere of that wonderful old house, had a most fertile affect on the writer's imagination. At that time I was a fledgling writer with high hopes, and I took any advantage from my environs to satisfy my creative passions. But this one time, shortly after beginning my employment with Muskoka Publications, I just froze at the keyboard of my Underwood manual typewriter. I couldn't get past the first paragraph. I don't know why I decided to light my then, one and only oil lamp, with a bit of fuel left in the font, and spent about fifteen minutes adjusting the wick to the right height for the illumination I desired, and it wasn't long before I had settled back in front of the Underwood, and found reason to commence typing. Conditions just seemed to be perfect to the heritage theme I was pursuing at that moment. It would be the commencement of a long and enthusiastic relationship, so much so, that I added greatly to my collection of oil lamps, and reserve of coal oil, and found myself requiring oil illumination to write anything while I was at home. At work during the day, at our newspaper office at 27 Dominion Street, I didn't need the stimulus of oil smoke and gentle light to work on stories. These were news stories, not feature articles and local histories, which were my specialty through the 1980's and 90's.
I suppose it is the case I did become moderately addicted to the ambiance of these charmingly inspirational old lamps, and the light cast down on the paper tucked into the carriage of the Underwood. I seemed to be able to take advantage of the historical aura, as if I could actually time travel back to the time when this was a necessary lighting requirement. The lamp lighting and the scent of the spent oil was a sort of adrenalin booster, and I actually found it next to impossible to create much of anything in those home sessions without igniting one or two at my side. And yes, I did have to gradually reduce my dependence on them, as the oil was getting expensive and I was being forced locally to replace the fuel I enjoyed with kerosene which to me has a harsher aroma that I was used to for so many years.
I still have a soft spot for those lovely plain farm lamps that used to don so many harvest tables and fireplace mantles in the good old days. I can resist picking up a few of these oldtimers when I come upon them at flea markets and yard sales if the price is right, and I know there are a few bits and bobs in my collection of lamp parts at home, in order to fix them up to working order once again. I still ignite them through the winter season, on those bitterly cold nights of January and February, and the soft light over the seasoned one hundred and fifty year old pine table-top, and the old portraits hung above, is elegantly historic and soothing to the time-travelling soul with a keen imagination, to re-invent times past in the most comfortable way possible; such that we never have to anything more than curl up with a good book, and pass the time in the romantic nostalgia of historic lighting.
And yes, we always have some of our collection available here at Birch Hollow Antiques, here at our Gravenhurst shop, situated across from the Gravenhurst Opera House on Muskoka Road.
No comments:
Post a Comment