“And she had this shelf of curios lining the opposite wall it kind of made like a half dividing wall between the parlor and the dining room and these curios were -they were odd; one was like this lobster serving plate which was shaped like a legit giant lobster and I would just stare at it, and another one were these she had like these beautiful little bird place settings and like card holders that would sit in front of your guest’s spot and you would write your guest’s name on the card and stick it in the holder and these beautiful little birds and they were all enameled and their beautiful little wire intricacies, she had some that looked like Wedgwood I don’t think they were but they were similar to Wedgwood they were little blue slabs with little cameo carvings and those were less interesting then the birds but I distinctly remember their presence and then a small variety of salt spoons and little salt holders and there were more spoons then salt holders though, and salt spoons were -it used to be that instead of salt and pepper shakers there would be just salt and it would sit in a little bitty bowl and in this little bowl you would have a little bitty bitty serving spoon to scoop out your salt and put it in and they were so tiny and cute I loved looking at those too but I always had this fear of touching them which I later learned was because apparently I started to touch the lobster as a kid and my Dad smacked my hand; he told me, “No,” and its amazing how something like that sticks with you even when you don’t remember why kind of like how memories work I suppose.”
I loved those little birds. They were like something out of a fairytale book with the delicate wires spiraling around their little metal bodies to form wings, tails, and feathers. The salt spoons were so tiny and approachable to a child. Almost like toy accessories. The white shelf they sat on was pristine from the lack of visitors capable of swirling up dust. It rose about waist high and served as a dividing wall between the dining room and parlor, topped with a bed of fake English Ivy. The strangeness of having such dainty objects so close to the floor and scooting chairs seemed odd. They did open up a new world to a child who may have never seen such beauty at such a young age if they weren’t on her level. It was a different place to stare at those antiques and imagine the tables they used to sit on. With the exception of the lobster. He became my warning, my source of revulsion among the trinkets. It was because of him I was scolded. It was because of him that I feared I would be caught just looking and held suspect. My fears were probably not valid, but they were tangible nonetheless. He now hangs on our dining room wall where he watches me eat.