Antique Shovels

This room by Vicente Wolf has always inspired me.   It has that amazing combination of clean and modern, yet warm and inviting, that Vicente does so well.  I absolutely love the collection of spades around the room.

Well, then I spotted these antique shovels on Joss and Main a few weeks ago, and I couldn’t resist purchasing them!

{mid-1800s grain press}

{mid 1800s grain shovel}

{mid 1800s shovel – this one was especially cute with a curved handle, which you can’t see in this picture}

Now, I don’t exactly have a room to rest these shovels, let alone that many.  So what’s a girl to do with 3 random, antique shovels?

They found a home next to my fireplace.  When you come in our front door (which isn’t possible at the moment because our front deck is ripped off), this is what you see.

We will be replacing the handrail someday, and the rock in this area was the one thing we will leave untouched.  At first I was torn about it….it has a seventies vibe I don’t necessarily love (although it was build in 1992).  Yet, painting over it would look bad (works for brick…not this type of rock).  Replacing the rock with an insert-type fireplace would cost way more than it was worth, so the flat, natural rocks stayed.  We’ve embraced it, and even worked around it.  In the end, if we stay here long enough, I feel like there’s some charm in a home that doesn’t look like it was built in (you fill in the blank), but it looks like it’s been loved for decades.  If you look a bit to the right, you’ll see my kitchen…..

The antique shovels feel like they were meant to be here.

Now, everything is the same color around the fireplace.  I think it works because of all the texture, and going up the stairs (just above it) is a gallery wall of paintings.  It allows your eyes to wander to the paintings, and that’s a good thing.  However, there is one more thing we are going to add.

This is a picture of Dave’s Grandpa.

He’s quite the man!  He and his young bride started out living in a chicken coop when they were a young family, and he ended up having one of the largest farms in Taber, Alberta, Canada by the end of his life.  I’m going to blow up this picture and hang it by the antique shovels (getting rid of those words, of course).  Isn’t it so precious and fitting?

Happy Monday,


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