Antiquing

17 June, 2024.

Antique shops. Flea markets. Swap meets. There’s always a sense of discovery for me. I feel a bit like an archaeologist, especially when encountering one of those really great shops that are filled to capacity with all sorts of dusty treasures. Some of the best shops can be found outside the city, often in those small towns with some sort of history. For us, those might be towns situated along the Missouri River, communities that share both a river history as well as a civil war history. Lexington, Missouri is one such place, with an ancient military academy, quaint 19th century downtown, and sensitively restored Victorian homes.

Main Street offers several proper antique shops, the kind of place where once you get the proprietor talking one discovers that leaving is only done with great difficulty. Conversations are almost never about the stuff in the shop – oh, sure, that’s how it starts. “Do you have any more old fly reels?” I might ask. The reply is a thoughtful, “No, I think that’s all we have” followed by “So, you’re a fisherman.” Innocent conversation that leads to the weather, and where are you from, gosh I’m from near there sorts of dialogue. It’s possible to eventually get a recommendation on a local diner, or another antique spot we should visit. Nevertheless, I find myself with one hand gripping the door knob, poised to exit the establishment, and yet still engaged in conversation fifteen minutes later.

We talk about peaches and apples. There are orchards in abundance hereabouts – but it’s been a bad year for peaches. The proprietor tells us helicopters were seen flying over one orchard, and he fears they’ve flown in peaches from someplace else, likely from somewhere outside the country. His suspicion is fraught with disapproval, and we eventually part ways with a final invitation to come back soon. We probably will

On the way home, our route traces the edge of the Missouri River. Highway 224 is low and probably floods easily when the river swells, and it meanders. This is the original road, largely rendered irrelevant by a straighter replacement to the route that runs parallel several miles south. But that road, while in better repair, bypasses the tiny river hamlets of Lafayette County like Napoleon and Wellington and Myrick. The main road no longer goes through these places, so one must purposely turn in their direction to know any more about them than the directional sign indicating their presence. Taking that main road also means driver and passenger get very few glimpses of the river other than an occasional glimpse of a miles away horizontal line of trees marking the river’s edge.

It turns out that antiquing is a means of discovery in many more ways than simply exploring the contents of a dusty shelf. It’s a way to rediscover what’s around us – hidden, and yet not so hidden at all.

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I was asked about sketchbooks after yesterday’s post. This is one of my two favorite sketchbooks, a Moleskin Cahiers that measures 3.5 x 5.5 inches. The paper is thin and smooth, and I really like how it takes a soft pencil like a Blackwing, or 6B lead in the Koh-i-noor Technigraph 5611 lead holder I’ve used since drafting class back in 1976. It’s a very good, simple combination that works for me. The other favorite sketchbook is a slightly larger one at around 5 x 7 inches or so – maybe slightly larger. It’s a Canson 180, and also has smooth, relatively thin paper. I like it for ink, and very occasionally for a few dabs of watercolor over the inked lines. It’s far and away not a watercolor paper, but I do like it for quick splashes of color.