I love lamps. The glow they give is so homey. In the evenings during the week when I pull up in the driveway, Harleigh will have turned lamps on. The house looks like a little cottage with everything golden with warm light. My Nana left me many of her lamps; many are vanity lamps, like this one, white hobnail with ball-fringed shades. They remind me of my sister and I as children spending nights at Nana and PapPap's, eating peanuts in bed at night after we had brushed our teeth and smelling of baby powder and clean hair. We'd lean out of our beds and watch our grandparents playing Pinnochle at the kitchen table with friends, laughing and eating. And we'd always yell out that we shouldn't be eating peanuts after our teeth were brushed. And Nana would tell us that it was OK because peanuts clean your teeth. I wish I could tell her now how much that memory means to me.
I love lamps. The glow they give is so homey. In the evenings during the week when I pull up in the driveway, Harleigh will have turned lamps on. The house looks like a little cottage with everything golden with warm light. My Nana left me many of her lamps; many are vanity lamps, like this one, white hobnail with ball-fringed shades. They remind me of my sister and I as children spending nights at Nana and PapPap's, eating peanuts in bed at night after we had brushed our teeth and smelling of baby powder and clean hair. We'd lean out of our beds and watch our grandparents playing Pinnochle at the kitchen table with friends, laughing and eating. And we'd always yell out that we shouldn't be eating peanuts after our teeth were brushed. And Nana would tell us that it was OK because peanuts clean your teeth. I wish I could tell her now how much that memory means to me.
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