Can you believe it's already March 1st?! I've been dreaming of Spring for months now, but I still can't believe that it really is right around the corner. It seems like just yesterday that I was wrapping Christmas presents or tromping through snow. When I was little, I would sit around and lament how slowly time passed and my mother would always say, just wait until you get older, time passes in the blink of an eye, and she was right!
Today, it was bright, sunny, and seasonably chilly, but the daffodils are peeking their little heads up through the soil, the birds are singing loudly, and the trees are all starting to bud out, so I'm happy as a clam. It was the perfect day to bid farewell to Roamy, The Roaming Gnome. After drawing a name he is headed down south, so he'll be experiencing springtime even before I do, lucky fella!
Now we all know that smoking is bad for you, though I see an alarming number of young people puffing away each time I visit our local college. But there was a time when it was considered the height of fashion. Elegant women with cigarette holders graced the covers of magazines, and handsome actors in television ads charmed us with their rugged good looks all with a burning cigarette in hand.
My grandfather was a pipe smoker, and I still have a fondness for the smell of a pipe. I also like the aroma of a good cigar. Neither of my parents smoked, and I've never smoked either, but we always had plenty of ashtrays scattered around our house.
I grew up in tobacco country and my mother was from Virginia, so smoking was pervasive among our extended family and friends. Whenever out of town guests or family visited the house was a veritable chimney with people laughing, smoking, and of course with an ashtray in hand.
These weren't just any ashtrays though, they were intricately cut crystal works of art that were heavy enough to injure someone with if you so chose to. Trust me, I dropped a few from time to time while dusting when I was a kid, and they could break your toe, or dent the floor!
My mother was an only child, so when her parents died she inherited all of her mother's cut crystal ashtrays, and later my siblings and I got them. I keep mine inside the big black glass display cabinet in my dining room. I honestly can say that we've never had anyone visit that needed an ashtray. We've had people visit who were smokers, but knowing we didn't smoke, they've all opted to go outside when the urge to have a cigarette hit them.
Along with the cut crystal ashtrays we had growing up, my mother and father also had a fondness for brass ones. They loved Virginia Metalcrafters, a brass manufacturing company that is synonymous with Colonial Williamsburg.
They made a series of ashtrays representing different leaves, like the mistletoe ashtray above, and I think my parents had nearly every single pattern they made.
As a child, we would make the pilgrimage to their sale and my parents would stock up on more ashtrays, candlesticks, and trivets. They also owned a pair of VM andirons and door knockers. Our house was like a mini showroom for the company, but my parents truly loved their wares and enjoyed having them around our house over the years.
The lotus leaf above was one that often got used by visiting smokers, as you can see by the wear and tear to the finish.
Others were strictly for display, like the tobacco leave pictured above. My parents gave each of us one to display in our own homes, and they often gave them as gifts as a reminder of our area's tobacco growing heritage.
I have about 10 of these brass ashtrays, all were gifts from my parents, or ones that I inherited and I love each of them. These, along with cut crystal ones I now own all bring back happy memories. Kind of ironic really when tobacco has ended the lives of so many over the years. But these ashtrays take me back to a time when my parents entertained and our home was full of family and friends enjoying one another's company.
I guess even a gray cloud can have a brass or crystal lining!
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