I wonder what it is about some vintage objects that speak to us on such a personal level? When it comes to vintage fans, I know exactly why I am drawn to them. As a young boy, there were many sleepovers at my grandparent's house. It was my favorite place to be. I spent many afternoons in my grandmother's kitchen, helping her prepare dinner or just chatting while she did all the work. During the warmer months, we'd take a break and go sit on the porch swing together. Her porch was the best. It wrapped around the house and was filled with just about every flower you could think of. Night would come and I would change into my pajamas to watch TV with my grandfather. Granny didn't enjoy TV as much. The evening news would come on and I would be ready for bed. Granny would pull out a "summer quilt" for me to sleep with. Beside my little twin bed she placed a small fan — much like the one in the photograph. The lights would go out, the fan would hum, and I would sleep like a baby.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
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