Life at № 42 by E.M. Coutinho
It’s a very conservative estimate, but there’s a chance someone will end up with an outstanding piece of furniture for a very reasonable price. I still find it baffling that pieces of this exceptional quality are being sold for so little. Mike’s mother told me (a long time ago) that that’s how things were right after the war. She got the Venetian blackamoor (now ours) and a giltwood Italian table with a tooled red leather top (now Mike’s sister’s) in what were essentially junk shops. Then the prices went up, then down, then up, and now down again. But whenever people ask me what to invest in, I stand firmly with this stuff. Sturdy, well built, classic pieces. If you want a fresher look, just upholster it in crisp white or beige linen. This sofa is at a very good auction coming up at Sotheby’s with many reasonably priced (under £1000) items. Look out for the circa 1775 marquetry dresser, lot 40, it’s a show stopper, but unfortunately not under 1000 🙂
Yesterday we watched Cracked Up, The Darrel Hammond Story. Engrossing, fascinating, heartbreaking. I highly recommend it – probably because I’m still (and increasingly) interested in the aftermath of childhood trauma. It’s amazing how long it can take us to come to terms with things, even basic things like the very meanings of words. What is abuse? What is trauma? What is the “normal” functioning of the mind in reaction to extreme circumstances, as opposed to the brain that misinterprets and then misfires?
It’s been raining and cloudy in the past few days. Ideal weather for the documentary and the conversations that ensued; Namely my disconnect to the outside world. After Mike’s cancer episode a few months ago, he says he worries that he is my only connection to the outside. I don’t think this is a surmountable mount. For the most part, I just don’t have the energy to deal with the things that go on out there.
Oh yes, you know how some people see Jesus on toast, well, let me introduce you to Rudy in Ivy.
In other news we’ve started cleaning up the house as we normally would for when Summer Girls come. The virus thing will probably mean they can’t come this year, but we decided that if that’s the case we’re going to make cardboard cutouts of them and pretend they’re here anyway.