This afternoon I met Fun Sink over at Aunt Irene's condo to pick over the final dregs of what no one else in the family wanted of her last worldly possessions. I don't consider it at all insulting that I wasn't invited over sooner--Aunt Irene has children and grandchildren who certainly have a legitimate claim to her belongings, and I would never want to take away what was rightly someone else's if they really wanted it. It's only fair and right that they should choose what they want first; I was glad for the chance to pick over what was left.
And the amazing thing about marrying into a family of tasteless cretins is that they looked over some truly charming treasures. I walked away today with some pretty silver trays, some cordial glasses with silver overlay, some julep cups, a lovely little glass carafe with silver overlay, a silver sugar basket, and two ornate gold frames (the art can be easily replaced--I just wanted the frames). I also claimed a nice lamp, two mirrors with ornate frames (I cannot resist an ornate frame), a Queen Anne-style wingback chair, a Chippendale-style desk, a pembroke table, a brushed gold bar cart, and an oriental rug. (I'm getting them delivered later). I cannot believe these people didn't want any of it--it's really nice.
It was hilarious, too, going through everything with Fun Sink, because it was painfully apparent that she had absolutely NO idea what I was going to go for and what I was going to leave behind. She wanted us to take a four-piece French provincial bedroom suite, which, she pointed out, had lots of storage. I like my bedroom furniture, and I'm not in the market to replace all of it now or ever (I'm more of a piece-by-piece collector, anyway). I think she was surprised that, instead of taking her up on the offer for the entire bedroom set, I was like, "No thanks, but this is a charming little picture on the wall," or "What about this lamp? Can I have this?" She really had no idea what I was going to go for--she had sent me pictures previously of stuff she thought I'd be interested in, and none of it was what I ended up taking.
Anyway, it was nice of her to let me choose some of it and I'm happy with what I inherited.
After that we went to supper with Mr. and Mrs. Fun Sink, where they told us all about their upcoming Mediterranean cruise with their friends. And let me tell you all--this is the last group of people you would ever want to go to Europe with. One of their friends is learning Spanish, not to enrich her experiences in the beautiful city of Barcelona, or to interact more meaningfully with its citizens, but for the express purpose of saying she and her friends don't want pork or shellfish in anything. Talk about a fun sink.
I asked my father-in-law what he was most excited about seeing, and was happy and impressed when he said he wanted to see Michelangelo's David. Fun Sink rolled her eyes and explained that, unlike the rest of their party, he's not content just seeing the reproduction statue in the public square in Florence--he wants to go inside a museum and possibly wait in line to see the real thing. Mr. Twinks and I both defended him and said he was totally right to want to see the actual statue (especially since there's a reproduction of it right here on Main Street in our hometown--I actually love that cheap-looking gold reproduction, and affectionately refer to it as the "five dollar footlong.") Fun Sink said, "Well--you all will change your minds when you hear THIS: there's really good shopping in Florence including lots of nice leather goods, and I'd rather spend my time doing that." So my FIL, to his credit, will stand in line to see one of the world's great Renaissance masterpieces, while Fun Sink shops for tchotchkies.
No comments:
Post a Comment