...duh... or Depression glass. When the ABC-Along began, I wrote all the letters of the alphabet in the spaces for every other Sunday of a pocket calendar. I also wrote in an idea or two for a particular letter, if something struck me right off the bat. Well, I checked my calendar yesterday and written right there in black and white: Depression glass. How could I have forgotten?
Depression glass reminds me a lot of my grandmothers. I haven't added to my collection much in recent years, but happily remember the years of building -- the flush of excitement at scoring a particular piece, quite probably unnoticed by anyone else, in a box lot at an auction, or saving up for a certain item, or finding even one piece of an elusive pattern that I liked. I especially like angles, I guess -- Sierra Pinwheel (I have plates, platters, bowls and a butter dish all with those cute, chip-prone, jagged rims), chunky Tea Room, geometric Colonial Block -- though I do have pieces with names like Swirl, too, and some with floral designs. Most Depression glass isn't marked, but the "A" inside an "H" is fairly common. People think it's an Anchor Hocking mark, but it really stands for Hazel Atlas, the name of an old glass company; it's sometimes found on the bottom of clear, utilitarian glass, too, such as jelly glasses or measuring cups.
I've photographed, posted and written about this cabinet before -- it is framed by the kitchen doorway, visible from my front door, and behind it is the sink and an ever-present assortment of dishes that haven't yet made it into the dishwasher. I knew, when we remodeled the kitchen, that the Depression glass would be "shown" -- I'd originally intended overhead, lighted cabinets with glass on all sides above the sink, but the space wouldn't allow it in the manner that I wished. We happened upon a pair of these cabinets and the rest, as they say, is history. There's a little cubby behind and to the left, between a heat vent and the countertop, that also houses some green (and always dusty) glass, and there are mixing bowls and various storage or refrigerator dishes in the other cabinets. At one time, this cabinet held unadulterated Depression glass, but you can see that there's a jolly assortment of other oddments these days -- things that make me smile. That rather Seuss-like leaning tower of sherbet glasses makes me smile, too. That's what it's all about, eh?