Some items were kept. The table the mister and I are currently using in our dining room, for example. We’re still using it because, well, that’s a long story, but we’re still using it because we cannot seem to get rid of it.
One of the other saved items was a camel saddle. The mister’s grandfather picked it up when he was in Algiers in 1979 (per the handwritten inscription on the bottom). The camel saddle hangs out in our living room. Since our house is furnished in “early dorm,” it goes with everything and nothing. It gets used as an ottoman, a stool, an end table and a step-stool when lightbulb changing time rolls around. It’s actually a remarkably useful piece of furniture and I get a kick out of having it around.
(Charlie included for scale.)
This weekend KVE and I were wandering around antique stores in Hopkins, enjoying the one semi-nice day in over a week, poking around for little treasures, good father’s day gifts and killing enough time that we could eat dinner. It was the perfect lazy Saturday and I loved every second of it.
In one of the antique shops KVE gasped from behind me. “Buster,” she said, gesturing. “It’s a camel saddle.”