Miriam Haskell Earrings: The Family Theatrics

I finally sold the Miriam Haskell earrings, and I am truly pleased. It turns out they are gift for some one's daughter, how lovely. I could not resist adding this "family tale" in the package. Spectacular stories such as this one, really should be passed on with them. :-)

"Dear C,
I wanted to share this small bit of flamboyant history about the earrings, just in case it might interest you.

The Miriam Haskell earrings were a gift to my very elegant grandmother from her very handsome, but sly & swarthy 2nd husband, a “tycoon” of sorts from Los Angeles. They met in Hawaii in the late 50s and dazzled her off her after she had fled her forlorn life, a mere year after losing her first husband.

He was incredibly handsome, but a terrible cad. My grandmother, years later, told me a story that as a young man in high school, he was friends with the famous writer Lillian Hellman. The two of them, each with their own vehicle--one a Rolls-Royce, the other a fire truck raced each other to school.

I have no idea if the story is true or not, but I have always remembered it, and it is quite a tale to remember.

Enjoy the earrings. They have been tucked away in my jewelry box for over 25 years. ;-)

D. xo

Family Contraptions: The Toas-Tite Maker

Thank you John E. Strietelmeier. Toas-Tite "Sandwich Grill" inventor, 1945

Three generations of women in my family have owned Toas-Tite makers. I grew up making the delectable Toasted sandwiches dripping with melted cheese. When it snowed and I had to shovel the entire frozen deck that wrapped half way around our house I made them with  tomato soup. I swear it saved my frost bitten little life.

There is no trick to it; even a kid can do it. Insert two slices of bread slathered in butter or mayonnaise and filled with cheese in the clam-like grips, tighten it, trim off the excess and put it on the stove. Flip it once, check it for bubbles. Eat!

Dinner on the burner. I had to demonstrate!

Toasty, a bit black, how I like it.

Wa-la! Insta' drippy cheese. Here: oatmeal bread and Irish cheddar cheese, but Rainbow bread and cheese slices will work in a 1960's minute.

Recently, I found this one at an estate sale and nearly squealed. They're rather rare and this one not only has the original instructions, but is pre-patent, dating it to the early 40s. Plus, it has a RED handle! (Ladies, it's the little things.)

I called mom to share. She double checked to make sure she still had hers.

"Does the cabin have one?" she asked. I thought so.

"Does Aunt G have one?" I asked. She thought so.

We double checked our mental family lists. Everyone had one. SO, if I can ungrip my toasty fingers from this lovely specimen I will actually sell it in the shop. (Don't rush me! I'm letting go.) If this ever truly happens, you can join the ranks of kitchy owners of comfort food contraptions. The Toas-tite maker. It rocks.

It doubles as a Xena Warrior breast plate. Halloween surprise?

d. xxoo

P. S. You can go nuts with homemade, but I'm afraid the tomato rice soup was Campbell's. ;-)

Rescuing the Family Jewels

My mother called. She was up to her elbows in the sacred moth balled closet that protects the family heirlooms--hat boxes, satin coverlets, a plethora of cocktail jewelry--Monet, Trifari, Marvella--kid gloves, evening wear, Vera, pearls, and a 1970s, hand tailored, virgin wool men's suit, from Hollywood, with the pimpiest lining a straight man ever wore.

She sounded nearly in tears.

I want it all gone! she cried. She had obviously been attacked by Spring Cleaning Fever, a deadly virus, when one more necklace, lace hat, cocktail dress, unworn stilettos, were going to break down her closet and her nerves. I know this feeling. I have it at least once a week. I pleaded, "Just hold on! I'll drive up today." I dropped everything, grabbed the Vintage Bible, my camera, the dog and headed out.

Luckily, my step-father coaxed my mother away and took her to lunch. A wise maneuver. When all is overwhelming, walk away from it all, is a my favorite motto--at least for coffee, cake, or a shot of Jack Daniels, if necessary.

Upon arrival, "The Albertson Ladies"--present and past, in body and spirit, strewn the closet content onto the carpet, played dress-up, strolled down memory lane and told stories of my great-grandmother, nanny, granny and a gaggle of eccentric aunties who had left this all behind. It was terribly fun. My mother looked much calmer. A weight had been lifted and she--and her closet--could breath once more.

The next day, I took away a car load of goods, all--I promised--to be sold in my shop. (You know I will keep some pieces, but only in the name of "I love it; I want it," and not for "familial obligation." I swear--(repeat this mantra as need be.)
Now, it is all in my little home. And please, don't tell, but I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed now too. Though, please don't worry! I have a plan--organize, photograph, edit, price, post. It's just going to take some time. There is only one of me.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have so much to do and a fabulous estate sale to attend. It's crazy, I know, but it's all part of my job. ;-)

P.S. If you see anything that makes your heart flutter, please let me know. A fabulous follower like yourself, deserves first dibs. ;-)